by Danny Orbach
At nightfall, the squads went out and the arrests began. Major General Brehmer, deputy commandant of Greater Paris, led the occupation of the Gestapo headquarters in Boulevard Lannes. The soldiers stormed into the building brandishing their weapons and overpowered the guards. Brehmer himself arrested Lt. Gen. Carl Oberg, the commander of the SS in France. Oberg was frightened and did not resist. Brehmer locked him in his room and told him he was under arrest until further notice.45 Meanwhile, Boineburg-Lengsfeld was standing on the corner of Avenue Foch and Boulevard Lannes to orchestrate the operation.
Soldiers from the security regiment took control of the SD headquarters at Avenue Foch. Boineburg-Lengsfeld spoke with them personally, and, according to some testimonies (which, perhaps, have to be taken with a grain of salt), they received the mission with enthusiasm. The SD commander in France, Col. Helmut Knochen, was recalled from a nightclub and arrested as well. The officers were detained in a hotel, while the soldiers were loaded into trucks and confined in a Wehrmacht prison, evacuated especially for the purpose. The operation was not without its faults and loopholes. Some SS soldiers, for example, were able to escape and notify the SS division Hitlerjugend about the insurgency. The troops also missed one SS communication facility, which meant the Reich main security office was also informed about the uprising. Still, the central authorities were very slow to react. Until midnight, twelve hundred of Hitler’s supporters in France were under lock and key. Under Stülpnagel’s directive, courts-martial were organized, and sandbags were piled in the yard of the École Militaire for the convenience of the firing squads. The “guilty”—presumably Oberg, Knochen, and their like—were set to be shot as quickly as possible. Indeed, jurists in Boineburg-Lengsfeld’s office had already begun to collect material on the SS commanders, incriminating them for deporting Jews, burning synagogues, and plundering abandoned property.46
After the war, one of Stülpnagel’s men related that in the summer of 1944, secret negotiations were conducted between the military governor’s bureau and Free France, in order to reach an understanding with the French resistance and maybe even mediate between the Allies and the new regime in Berlin. Gen. Henri Navarre, a senior French intelligence officer, confirmed this in his memoirs. According to Navarre, he met several times with a German general, “a very moral man, staunch German patriot but anti-Hitler.” The Wehrmacht general asked him whether he could guarantee that the Allies would permit the Germans to withdraw from France in good order and concentrate their efforts on checking the Russian advance in the east. Navarre passed the request on to Gen. Marie-Pierre Koenig, the commander of Free France on the Normandy front and de Gaulle’s senior military adviser. Koenig briskly refused, without really saying why. Yet his response was predictable, considering the deep suspicion of both French and Americans toward the German resistance and de Gaulle’s own hatred of “Prussian militarism.” The fact is that the French resistance did not respond to the arrest of the SS men in Paris.47 The operation itself was conducted smoothly and bloodlessly, and after its conclusion most soldiers were released to head back to their barracks.
For a while, it seemed as though the conspirators were making some headway in Berlin, too. Major Remer, the commander of the Guard Battalion, was fulfilling his duty with great energy. Until 5:00 p.m., the government quarter in Wilhelmstrasse was sealed. Remer asked for and received reinforcements from Major Hayessen and Lieutenant General Hase to block the entrance to the Reich main security office. At around 5:30 p.m., the putsch had reached its zenith, with Berlin partially controlled by Stauffenberg and his men. In Bendlerstrasse, the conspirators kept on trying to summon more troops. Colonel Mertz dispatched urgent orders to the armored school at Krampnitz, and won at first a favorable response. “Orderly, a bottle of Champagne! The pig’s dead!” exclaimed Col. Harald Momm, commander of the Riding and Driving School, at first hearing the news. Momm sent one of his officers, Lieutenant Colonel Glaesemer, to Berlin with an armored unit, which advanced up to the golden Victory Column in the center of the Reich capital.48
Major Remer now turned to the most important task at hand: arresting Goebbels. The propaganda minister asked according to whose commands he was being apprehended, and Remer replied that since the Führer was dead, he must obey his commander, Lieutenant General Hase. Goebbels, of course, insisted that Hitler was alive, and, to Remer’s surprise, he then picked up the phone. Goebbels asked to be put through to supreme headquarters in East Prussia and gave the phone to Remer. Upon hearing Hitler’s voice, the young major stood to attention:
“Major Remer, do you recognize my voice?”
“Yes, my Führer.”
“Major Remer, they tried to assassinate me, but I am alive. I am speaking with you as the commander-in-chief of the Wehrmacht. You must safeguard Berlin for me. Use all necessary force; shoot anyone refusing to follow your orders.”
“Yes, my Führer.”49
Hitler ordered Remer to suppress the uprising, and raised him to the rank of colonel. The battalion commander, for his part, put himself under Goebbels’s command and directed his troops to lift the siege on the government quarter. As he had still failed to grasp the importance of the Bendlerstrasse and did not know where the epicenter of the coup was, he sent an emissary to find out. At about the same time, the secret agent Otto Skorzeny arrived in Berlin to organize the Gestapo troops, though he did nothing tangible against the putsch. Then Lieutenant General Hase went to check on Remer in the propaganda ministry. He found Goebbels instead and was promptly arrested. In one moment, the hub of the Berlin headquarters had been destroyed.
This was perhaps the worst blunder the conspirators made on the afternoon of July 20, 1944. Why did one of the higher-ranking conspirators not accompany Remer on his mission? In Paris, even young officers trusted by Stülpnagel were personally escorted by his closest collaborators. Remer was then a person deeply sensitive to immediate authority, and not the fearless Nazi warrior he portrayed himself to be after the war. A stronger anti-Nazi general would have scarcely permitted Goebbels to call Hitler in East Prussia. Goebbels could have easily been arrested by Jaeger or some other loyal officer. Moreover, were his telephone line cut, he would have had no way of calling the Führer.
Around 7:00 p.m., Field Marshal Witzleben finally arrived at the Bendlerstrasse and saluted General Beck as his commander in chief. “Reporting for duty, sir,” he said. When he saw Stauffenberg, however, his mood changed abruptly. “A fine mess, this is!” he muttered angrily. Witzleben, tired and embittered, severely reprimanded Stauffenberg on his negligent behavior. Gisevius, who never lost an opportunity to shame Stauffenberg, wrote that the count stood like a “drenched poodle” while Witzleben showered him with abuse. The exact details of the conversation are unclear, but it seems that the field marshal believed that everything was lost and there was no more reason to go on. Beck refused to surrender, and Witzleben left the Bendlerstrasse in fury. He went to Zossen and reported on the outcome of the conversation to Wagner, the quartermaster general who was already out of the conspiracy. “Well,” said Wagner, “let’s go home.” And so they did: Wagner to end his own life, Witzleben to wait for the Gestapo.50
And still, generals from all over Europe were calling Hoepner and Stauffenberg to ask for explanations. Gisevius later testified about these telephone conversations:
Everyone listened to every conversation. Sooner or later there would have to be important messages from the provinces, and we could really do with a little good news. At our end of the wire Stauffenberg incessantly repeated the same refrain: “Keitel is lying . . . Don’t believe Keitel . . . Hitler is dead . . . Yes, he is definitely dead . . . Yes, here the action is in full swing.”
The questions he was being asked can easily be imagined. What is interesting is the variety of tones in which Stauffenberg responded. One moment his voice was firm and commanding, the next friendly and persuasive, the next imploring. “You must hold firm . . . See to it that your chief doesn’t weaken . . . Hayessen,
I’m depending on you . . . Please, don’t disappoint me . . . We must hold firm . . . We must hold firm . . .” Stauffenberg was the only one in control of the situation, the only one who knew what he wanted.51
But, enthusiastic and charismatic as he may have been, he was already working beyond his powers. Worst, the Führer was alive, and no amount of charisma could persuade the majority of officers to turn against his orders.
The hesitancy, even timidity, of Hoepner did not help. Upon hearing that Hitler was alive, the general, whose voice was “close to tears,” told his coconspirators that there was no reason to continue. Only Beck’s persuasion urged him to keep on going. Still, the panzer general was no match for Keitel and Hitler’s headquarters. He could not convince the commanders of the military districts or their chiefs of staff, and when a serious argument began, he was usually quick to end the conversation altogether.52
Only in one place did the tide really turn in favor of Stauffenberg, Beck, and their friends. In the west, seated in his La Roche-Guyon headquarters, Field Marshal Kluge was optimistic, even enthusiastic. At 6:45 p.m., he and Blumentritt agreed that first they should stop the missile attacks on London and discuss conditions for an honorable surrender to the Western Allies. But when, during the discussion, Kluge was notified that Hitler was alive, his new resolve weakened immediately. Next, he phoned several people and concluded, to his surprise, that Hitler was in fact dead.
Shortly afterward, Beck called Kluge and urged him to support the new government. Kluge still hesitated, explaining that he couldn’t commit himself and his officers before clarifying the political situation. He promised to call back after consulting his men.53 This did not seem an ill omen, as among his men were the conspirators Hofacker, Speidel, and Stülpnagel. In fact, the military governor of France traveled to La Roche-Guyon in order to use his personal influence on Kluge.
In a last attempt to find out the truth, Kluge called Maj. Gen. Helmuth Stieff, the head of the Organization Section of the General Staff. This senior officer, who became anti-Nazi because of the murder of Jews in Poland, was a member of the inner circle of the conspiracy. Still, he chose to betray his friends and told Kluge the truth: Hitler was alive.54 Even before this phone conversation, he had recommended to officers who called him that they follow Keitel’s orders. Like so many others, Stieff was sure that everything was lost, and he wanted only to save his own skin. Later, he was to discover that the Nazis did not favor those conspirators who switched sides at the last moment.
The conspiracy in the west was crumbling. Hofacker, Stülpnagel, and Speidel tried to convince Kluge to act even though Hitler was alive. “Sir, Field Marshal,” said Stülpnagel, “I was under the impression that you knew all about it.”
“No,” said Kluge. “I had no idea whatsoever.”
“The honor of the army is in your hands,” implored Hofacker. “Do not give it away to the National Socialists. Through resistance, we can still create a fait accompli and reach our goal.”
Kluge hesitated for a moment, then said, “My hands are tied because that swine [Hitler] is alive. I have my orders to follow.”55 Constantine FitzGibbon, one of the early historians of the conspiracy, interviewed some of the survivors and re-created a description of the atmosphere in the room: “This denial, Stülpnagel knew, was untrue: he also knew what it meant. Kluge was abandoning them. He was abandoning Beck and the others in Berlin, Tresckow and his friends in Russia, his country and the future. Kluge’s moral courage had failed him, and he had sought refuge in his soldier’s oath. Stülpnagel stepped through the open window and for a few minutes walked up and down between the beds of roses outside.”56
Speidel, Rommel’s chief of staff, later related that the officers sat at a silent candlelit dinner, in an atmosphere that reminded him of a “morgue.”57 The desperate Stülpnagel, now using his last card, told Kluge that he had already ordered that the SS be arrested; there was no way back. “Release them immediately!” yelled Kluge. “Do you hear me? If not, I cannot take responsibility. I cannot answer for what will happen.” Kluge relieved Stülpnagel from duty and advised him to doff his uniform and hide somewhere in Paris in civilian clothes. Stülpnagel refused to shake Kluge’s hand, saluted, and left the castle.58
Among the Paris conspirators, the atmosphere was not yet as gloomy. From 6:00 p.m. onward, the resistance officers in the Hotel Majestic started to realize that something was amiss, but still they kept on following Stülpnagel’s orders. At that moment, they believed that the war could still be brought to an end, and Germany saved. As Walter Bargatzky recalled many years later,
We climbed the stairs to room 405, so closely bound to the story of the insurgency. Here, in this room . . . we had drafted only a week before the prospective surrender note of Rommel to Montgomery. We moved the armchairs to the open balcony, letting the dusk sun shine upon us. The radio was now incessantly broadcasting Wagner operas. I cannot stand Wagner, though Teuchert [one of the conspirators] liked him. At that moment, though, even he was annoyed by Wagner. Every second we expected to hear the first sentences of Goerdeler’s address [to the nation]. Instead the radio message on the failure of the coup repeated itself torturously. Around 9:30 p.m. the door was gently opened. Linstow brought in the latest news from Berlin. “Everything is going according to plan,” he said. “What they say on the radio is false.”59
Even then, Stülpnagel briefly considered continuing alone, although he could not fail to notice that the chances of success were already slim to none. The Nazis were no longer paralyzed and confused, and navy, Luftwaffe, and SS units were closing in on him. At 10:00 p.m., Stauffenberg called from Berlin and reported that the Bendlerstrasse was under attack. “The hangmen are racing down the corridor,” he said in despair. Stülpnagel, the last man standing, finally decided to resign. His fate was sealed; he was just too deeply involved. Yet, as a commander, he still had to ensure the safety of his loyal troops.60
Around midnight, Stülpnagel finally surrendered. He ordered the release of the detained SS troops and had a long talk with their commander, Lieutenant General Oberg. Using the good offices of Otto Abetz, the German ambassador, the two reached an agreement that the rank-and-file soldiers would remain unharmed. Abetz and Oberg created the impression that everything might still be portrayed as a misunderstanding. All night long, the SS officers and their Wehrmacht counterparts drank themselves into oblivion. In the morning, General Stülpnagel was summoned to Berlin to answer for his actions. The conspiracy in the west was over.61
The insurgency in Berlin had been extinguished two hours before. Remer’s soldiers, reinforced by SS troops, surrounded the Bendlerstrasse in a tight ring, yet the leaders of the conspiracy ignored this sure sign that the end was nigh. The telephone, wrote Gisevius, still worked, and the “phantom putsch” dragged on.62 Even at the last moment, an eyewitness saw Stauffenberg speaking clearly and resolutely on the telephone in a hopeless attempt to enliven the dying insurgency. Ironically, Colonel Müller from Döberitz showed up at the last moment at the Bendlerstrasse. He was ready to fight the SS, dispatch a security detail for the Bendlerstrasse, and occupy the radio facilities and concentration camps near Berlin. Only, he asked, might he have written permission to lead the Döberitz troops? Olbricht signed the order—the last one ever produced by the one-day government of Ludwig Beck.63
Most of the guards at the Bendlerstrasse belonged to Remer’s battalion and were ordered to leave the place without further ado. The Wehrmacht authorities established firm control over the armored school in Krampnitz, and the tanks stationed in Berlin were ordered to turn back to base. The conspiracy hub in the Berlin headquarters was, anyway, done for after Hase’s arrest. Helldorff was not ready to employ his police without Wehrmacht support, and upon hearing that Hitler was alive and the putsch over, even Philipp von Boeselager surrendered. He understood that there was no point in moving his troops to Berlin. The “wheel conspiracy” of Stauffenberg, that cross-Europe network which seemed only hours ago so dense and
formidable, had disintegrated, the spokes sheared off. Only the hub of the wheel remained: sad, lonely brokers, connectors without connections, generals and colonels without troops.64
The clock struck eleven, and the last hopes were fading into the night. The junior officers in the compound, who were so far more or less cooperative, renounced Olbricht’s authority, running amok in the corridors armed with pistols, submachine guns, and even hand grenades. They stopped anyone they saw, asking if he was “for or against the Führer” and arresting those who failed to produce the right answer. Olbricht himself was disarmed and led with Mertz to Fromm’s office, where he was detained along with Beck, Hoepner, and Haeften. The rest of the conspirators were held in Mertz’s room. Hoepner, pathetically enough, tried to deny any involvement and told his guards that he was merely an innocent bystander. Meanwhile, Nazi officers spotted Stauffenberg running through the corridor. “This is the traitor!” they shouted. The colonel, clearly at his wits’ end, opened fire, and was fired at in return. He retreated to Beck’s office, bleeding heavily, to be arrested along with the others.65
General Fromm, the commander of the Home Army, finally released from his confinement, faced the conspirators in a vengeful mood. “Ah,” he said. “Here are the gentlemen who arrested me at noon. You are all my prisoners. I have caught you in the act, committing treason, and according to existing legislation, you will all face a firing squad.” His sentiments were more than mere vengeance. Fromm was worried for himself and wanted to get rid of all witnesses who knew about his own silent involvement in the conspiracy. Lieutenant Haeften, somehow still armed, drew his pistol and threatened to shoot Fromm, but Stauffenberg stopped him. There was no use in further bloodshed. Fromm asked whether they wanted to write something. Olbricht asked for an envelope and scribbled a farewell letter to his wife. Hoepner, too, was writing his wife, adding something in his own defense. Fromm asked them to be quick, “so that it will not be too hard for the others.”66