The Valkyrie Option

by Markus Reichardt

  Claus’ eyes briefly came alight when he told her that the cabinet, at Goerdeler’s insistence had accepted a British proposal that Czechoslovakia be recreated. “Not surprisingly von Witzleben had a near fit, started sputtering about the loss of frontlines, tens of Slovak divisions, the contribution of the Slovak war economy.” He gripped Nina’s hand with his damaged one, unaware of the pressure he was exerting. “Even Goerdeler was looking a bit unsure. But that’s when Adam stepped in again and pointed out to these old sacks that a Czechoslovakia recreated at the allies request would be like an insurance policy against the Soviets right on our eastern doorstep. A Czechoslovakia that had Churchill and possibly Roosevelt as god parents would be too busy establishing its own identity and sovereignty for a few years to allow any Soviet domination or physical threat. In effect he told them that it would mark the boundary of Soviet influence in central Europe.

  Nina smiled quietly. Claus needed to communicate his excitement, his sense that the world was changing in their favour; a world he had helped shape. She did not care much for the nuances but knew enough to grasp that what he was saying did signal a change, even if she felt less confident about it that he. But right now Claus did not need a debating partner. Right now he needed to convey his excitement and then he needed sleep. As his partner and friend she would ensure that the man who had given her nation a chance at survival would get both in that order.

  30th November

  Paris

  Another person looking at the map of Europe and its implications was Charles de Gaulle. Ever since the humiliation of Paris and France he had remained obstinately removed from events. Even going as far as almost snubbing Churchill when the British leader came calling on Europe’s SHAEF forward HQ in an effort to improve relations with Eisenhower. De Gaulle knew that most of the commanders at SHAEF were deeply anti-French which just added insult to injury. In the end the two leaders had had a two hour meeting during which Churchill chatted uninhibitedly and fairly intelligibly in French. ‘He speaks remarkably well but understands very little’ de Gaulle recorded afterwards in his diary. Neither side made concessions but managed to avoid any sharp exchange. One area they agreed to co-operate on was co-ordinated military police efforts to curtail the theft and sale of jerry cans and gasoline which was reaching such proportions that it was affecting allied progress into Germany. [99]

  What had really pre-occupied De Gaulle that day was Russia. He knew that the tensions between the Americans and British would make it difficult to discuss a post-war settlement with the Russians and he recognized that this was France’s chance to regain a seat at the table of the major powers. On December … 1944 He and three senior officials flew to Moscow to discuss relations with Marshall Stalin.

  The visit was not a success; first of all the French had organised the trip just too hastily, had not set a proper agenda and had had to spend too much time explaining to the British and Americans why France would seek a separate audience with Russia about Europe’s future. Things were made worse when de Gaulle and Stalin did not get on except at a superficial level. At the main banquet in the Kremlin de Gaulle was livid to discover that both the British and American ambassadors had been included in the dinner, and even less pleased to have Stalin taunt members of his delegation with Polish-sounding names about the failure of the French Government to recognize the Lublin Poles. Once a Pole, always a Pole, was something even de Gaulle found hard to bite his tongue about when a rather drunken Beria repeated Stalin’s taunt for the third time to his senior naval man. De Gaulle had come seeking some reassurance that the French communists would not stage a revolution and was also hoping to rekindle some form of Franco-Russian alliance to counterbalance the AngloAmericans. But for all of De Gaulle’s sense of history Stalin’s anger at the speedy French collapse in 1940 which had left him alone to face the might of the German land forces remained. De Gaulle, blindsided by his need to be France and gloss over her failings in public, could not accept any such criticisms.

  Stalin, had no faith in French significance or power for the foreseeable future, had only agreed to the meeting in the first place as a tool to further stimulate the wild card among the western powers. However, he knew that De Gaulle was ultimately anti-communist and neither militarily or economically strong enough to truly offer the possibility of a counter-balance to Churchill or the Americans. On his return De Gaulle privately accepted the vulgar reality that without enough guns or money he could not be a major power. He knew that both the French and British empires were under siege from the forces unleashed by the war and the Atlantic Charter. He blamed Roosevelt for this. Without them British and French greatness would wilt before the might of Russia and the USA, the two new superpowers would carve up Europe. He hated to admit it but Churchill’s rapprochement with the Germans made sense. Only a united Europe would be able to hold its own in the new world. Only a united capitalist Europe could muster the resources to threaten the progressive nations of the Soviet Bloc. Yes he was already thinking in those terms. So it was with great resentment that De Gaulle turned to the legacy of the Vichy Government and its policy of collaboration and anti-Semitic deportations to consolidate his position. More than 120 000 Jews had been handed over by Vichy. In addition nearly 750 000 French had become forced labourers for the Germans at some stage. There were scores to settle and an economy to build. The Moscow visit became the last major foray de Gaulle made onto the international stage for more than two years. And for the moment the tall Frenchman retreated into himself. There was a European nation to rebuild and he was prepared to do almost anything to speed that process. By the end of 1944 France had received 2 billion US dollar credits for coal, food and raw materials purchases just to survive. She barely managed even that. [100] But by the end of that winter De Gaulle had chosen, France would stand with Britain to defend her empire against American and Russian influence.

  Aachen

  December 24th 1944

  It was bitterly cold even though the mighty wall of the Aachen cathedral kept out the fierce wind. Furtively Montgomery tugged at his scarf, seeking in vain to gain greater warmth and protection of his desperately guarded health. He glanced around. No-one in the cathedral, military or civilian, English, American or German looked particularly comfortable. Some however seemed to have come slightly better insulated that the Field Marshall. Gratefully even the priests conducting mass were not immune to the temperature. However symbolic, this multi-national Christmas service would not be a protracted event.

  It had been the idea of the German church leaders – apparently someone with a great sense of humour, who had proposed to the Allies that in the hope of speeding up the ceasefire negotiations leaders from both sides attend Christmas church services on the other side of the front. For their part the German delegation was at this moment in Metz cathedral sitting among the worshippers who included the members of Bradley’s headquarters staff. To make their point Stauffenberg and von Trott had attended as leaders of a 30 strong German delegation. As in Metz the Aachen service was held by army chaplains from both sides. Both delegations had crossed each other’s lines under a white flag of truce.

  With great dignity both took turns reading from the familiar text that united all the attendants in their faith - Christianity. When it came to signing the songs – Monty found that even though the words were different their meaning carried across the language barrier; he like many others knew his version of Silent Night.

  Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht!

  Alles schläft, einsam wacht

  Nur das traute, hochheilige Paar.

  Holder Knabe im lockigem Haar,

  Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh,

  Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh

  It had been agreed at the end of the service the visitors would exit first, filing past the congregation. Officially explained as a courtesy, it turned out to be one of the most moving moments in the lives of the allied officers. Monty like others would later write in their memoirs that there was no hate in the e
yes of the German civilians, nor among the uniformed men. Only a solemn sentiment common to all people wishing to live in peace. At that moment it dawned on them that their Christianity was a uniting factor overriding all other earthly differences. They were acutely aware that Stalin had pointedly refused renewed requests for negotiations from the Germans and publicly ordered that special attacks be launched to coincide with the time of the services.

  Montgomery was barely ten meters from the massive doors when from among the rows of German worshippers a young boy stepped out into the aisle. He was barely 16 years old, his thin body wrapped into a worn dark coat. In one hand he held a wrinkled newspaper copy of the famous Rommel-Monty photograph. Without hesitation he offered Monty the other.

  ‘Merry Christmas and Peace to you ! Herr Montgomery.’ He said in heavily accented English.

  ‘And to you … ‘ Monty gripped the offered hand and shook it after some hesitation. The boy could have been his son.

  ‘ I am Georg Meyer’ In one fluid movement the boy reached out and hugged the British officer. For a moment their eyes met. ‘My father is prisoner of your army. Please bring us peace’ he said loud enough for most in the congregation to hear.

  ‘Merry Christmas Georg Meyer.’ As always when he was unprepared Monty was tongue-tied. The boy could have been …his son…. It was then that he noticed that apart from a thin, torn shirt Georg had no clothes underneath the rough worn army coat he was wearing. The condition of the coat and his footwear suggested that Georg also had little else.

  He would never be able to explain it afterwards except that in that moment Monty did not see a German boy, he saw a boy desperately cold. Without thinking he unwrapped his scarf and placed it around Georg’s neck.

  The wide-eyed but grateful look was all he needed. ‘Merry Christmas Georg’ Monty had always kept his emotions under control but at that moment he could not help himself. He reached out and returned Georg’s embrace. ‘Peace to us all’. Whispered Britain’s greatest war hero desperately fighting back tears.

  And with that the ice was broken, the allied officers found themselves surrounded by German civilians who in the best high-school English wished them them a Merry Christmas and shook their hands or hugged them.

  Near the altar of the cathedral Rommel, himself rather emotional, put a hand on Helmuth Lang’s arm. “Leave the camera, Helmuth. This moment belongs to God. It is not for us to take. Besides, the Feldmarschall may not have yet forgiven you the last picture.”

  Al Irzyk, sat shivering in his Sherman tank turret. He and his crew had drawn guard duty, as it always happened when unpleasant duties needed to be performed. No-one would let him live down the disgrace of being part of the defeat that Patton’s column had suffered. No-one would let him forget that he had been taken prisoner. Ever since returning to active duty Al had asked himself what madness had possessed him and the men of his unit. They had followed the Wehrmacht steadily eastward towards the German border and had lost only one man to a vehicle accident. The battalion commander readily admitted that the pace of the advance was almost as fast as the American forces could go in any case; fighting or not, so what had been the point. He shook his head, best to forget the whole business. His ears pricked up, the sound coming from the German lines, it sounded like singing. Then he recognized the tune Silent Night, Holy Night. The age-old carol gained in strength as it floated across the winter landscape. The first verse ended. And after a short silence the second verse began but from the allied side. On both sides soldiers listened to the voices alternating the verses back and forth across the thin strip of no-man’s land. At the end faint greetings were heard intermingling : ‘Happy Christmas, Fröhliche Weihnacht” And from the German side came a repeated message “The war is over we fight no more.”[101] Many a soldier would record this as one of the most moving moments in his life and comparisons to the 1914 Christmas truce were made by war correspondents. In his tank Al cried with joy. It was Christmas and he would live to see the end of the war.

  In Metz Stauffenberg knelt before the altar after the service alone the congregation forgotten as people filed out of the cathedral. The service had ended but despite been chilled to the bone he felt the urge to stay. He prayed silently as he looked up at the cross, which was far more ornate than the one he had knelt before on the night of July 19th when he had set out on his quest. How long ago all that seemed; how much had happened. ‘Dear Father, ‘ he mumbled’ you have granted me the chance to purge the evil from my people. They still have much to atone for, so much evil has been done in their name. I ask that you judge them in accordance with thy merciful will. I kneel before you tonight o Lord, on this your night, to say thank you for allowing me to strike down the evil, even though killing is a sin. I thank thee from the bottom of my heart for protecting my family. I have done what needed to be done and for that I thank you. Judge me as you will but spare my people. Give them a future. Give them and all the world peace. Into thy hand I commend them and my soul. Amen’

  He stood and slowly walked out past the congregation. Around him the other members of the German delegation had already begun to file out. No-one could overlook the tears that had run down his face. Few understood that they were tears of joy, joy of a faith reassured; a task fulfilled

  That Christmas night Field Marshall Bernard Law Montgomery renewed his faith and for the first time since the death of his wife more than a decade ago felt truly at peace.

  When Helmuth James von Molkte opened his door three days later, a British nobleman announced that London had a new long list of issues to discuss but that they were willing to consider these discussions formal talks aimed at setting dates for peace negotiations.

  25 December

  Warsaw Airfield

  Warsaw

  Bor and Okulicki walked in silence between the smoking buildings of Warsaw airfield perimeter. The damage of the Soviet airstrike against the airfield was limited but still it had cost lives. There were now no British planes left from the original force that had come over. Amid the devastation he barely noticed the German airport commander kneeling outside the shattered control barracks which had been servicing as the control tower for the past few weeks. The man, himself slightly wounded was bandaging one of the Polish pilots who had received a very nasty gash in his side from a metal bomb fragment. Next to him the barracks wall had been ripped open and equipment lay scattered in pieces some of its smoking among it rather prominently lay a five foot Christmas tree, the tinsel on it made from the inside of cigarette boxes the pinecones and candles attached to it scattered. The Polish commander shook his head and walked on. He did not notice the war correspondent who snapped a series of photos of his surveying the scene.

  28 December

  10:20am

  The White House

  Washington D.C.

  What is this crap? Who let this through the censors? Roosevelt’s voice was ice, the assistant who had the misfortune of being on duty when the newspapers were brought, retreated involuntarily. “Mr President I do not know, I..” he got no further, a wave from Roosevelt’s hand silencing him. He was new to the job and had not yet grown accustomed to being in the big man’s presence.

  “Never mind, “ Roosevelt hissed, just get me General Marshall on the phone, or even better get him to come over RIGHT NOW!”

  As the aide scurried out of the bedroom almost slamming the door, Roosevelt stared at the newspapers in front of him. He had rested the day before, ignoring much of the incoming mail and information from his subordinates. Now, before him, lay four of the main East Coast American dailies, three of them carrying a headline ‘Stalin’s Christmas Gift to European Peace’ or a version thereof. The picture underneath was the image of Bor standing in front of the damaged Warsaw airport barracks, the smouldering, toppled Christmas tree all too clearly in view. The Washington Post had picked up another image: that of a poorly bandaged infant screaming under the agony of the burn wounds inflicted by the phosphorous bombs that had fallen on Warsaw
that day. Russian bombs supplied, it was claimed, by lend-lease. The article cited Stalin’s order which had timed the attack to coincide with Christmas mass and left no doubt that it thought the Soviet leader’s actions were way beyond what civilized people could or should stomach.

  Clutching his chest, the American President was in no doubt what this would do to his approval ratings and the United Nations project. The pain, came and went but he did not black out. He knew that within days the blasted Polish-Americans would be at his door again. He had to be strong, no-one would be there to make his dream survive if he did not.

  The Government of the United States of America cannot agree to be party to the formation of a Polish Government which is not representative of all Polish democratic elements.

  President Truman on April 23rd 1945 in a

  telegram to Molotov (Churchill Papers)

  4pm, 30 December 1944

  The White House,

  Washington D.C.

  Admiral Leahy leaned back at his desk, tired and frustrated. In front of him an aide had provided a summary note of the fat file below but that made it no more palatable. There were reports dozens of them by credible, impartial sources showing the mass brutality that Joseph Stalin was using to crush any democratic political movement that stood in the way of his the people’s republic’s that were being imposed on Bulgaria, Romania, parts of Poland. There were pictures, affidavits. And they all said the same – mass murder to accommodate the new Soviet regimes. In Greece, now under the sway of the local Communists, if not directly occupied by the Red Army, the estimate was 11 000 dead in a civil war. Everywhere in the Balkans, even Yugoslavia where the British apparently were seeking some accommodation with Tito, there were reports of widespread detention, murder and massacres.