The Last Prussian

by Messenger, Charles;

  For von Rundstedt, however, the high point of his time at Grizedale Hall, if it could be said to have had one, was almost certainly his meetings with the eminent military theorist and historian Basil Liddell Hart. The Liddell Harts were at the time living in Ambleside and he soon came to hear of the rich collection of personalities interned in Grizedale Hall. It was too good an opportunity to ignore, especially since here were many of those who had practised in war the ideas which he had preached so vehemently in the 1920s and 1930s. At the time he was somewhat persona non grata in official circles, having often attacked British strategy during the war, and there were many who had not forgiven him for his role as eminence grise to Leslie Hore-Belisha, the Secretary of State for War, while still a journalist, in the late 1930s. However, his brother-in-law Barry Sullivan was at the time working in the re-education section of the Foreign Office’s Prisoner-of-War Division (PWD) and through him Liddell Hart was taken on as a lecturer. This re-education process had been recognised as essential to the future of the German people. They had to be taught what Western democracy was all about and to realise the error of their ways. Prisoners-of-war in Britain would eventually be repatriated, but, for obvious reasons, they had to be politically cleansed before this could happen. One of the first steps taken was to co-opt lecturers who would visit the camps and talk both formally and informally to their inmates.

  Liddell Hart had made his first visit to Grizedale Hall on 9 July and by the time von Rundstedt arrived there, he had become a well known figure, driving up in his 1937 Rolls-Royce and being pleasant and courteous to all. He first talked to von Rundstedt on 26 October, spending the whole morning with him and his son and a further one and a half hours in the afternoon. Having denied all knowledge of Haider’s plot to overthrow Hitler at the time of Munich in September 1938, because he was retired, von Rundstedt then went through the whole of his war. Elements of this discussion have already been detailed, but from its length there is no doubt that the two quickly established a mutual rapport.40 Six days later, they had another talk. Liddell Hart’s questions on this occasion were more wide-ranging, as much as anything trying to confirm what others in the camp had told him. Von Rundstedt said that none of the Russian generals were any good in 1941, although Zhukov became so later, and spoke of a captured Russian officer referring to Budenny as ‘a man with an immense moustache, but a very small brain’. He denied that Hitler had issued an order not to take Russian prisoners and stated that his own army group had captured over one million. As for the best of the German generals, he considered that von Manstein was very good and well above average (Liddell Hart put in his notes ‘R. evidently thinks him the best, though he hesitates to say so definitely’) and von Brauchitsch, von Kleist, von Leeb and von Weichs were good. Model was also good, but a ‘bull’, as were von Reichenau and von Bock, although the last-named ‘understood operations’. Liddell Hart also asked about the circumstances of his retirement in 1938 and his role in the aftermath of the July 1944 Bomb Plot, both of which have been covered earlier in the book. Liddell Hart’s comments on this interview were:

  Von Rundstedt and Blumentritt say farewell to Rommel after a visit to his headquarters at La Roche Guyon.

  Von Rundstedt with General Vercellino, formerly the commander of the Italian Fourth Army, who elected to remain on the Axis side after the Italian armistice, Toulon, early 1944.

  Von Rundstedt with his erstwhile chief of staff, von Sodernstern, when the latter was commanding the Nineteenth Army in Southern France.

  Sepp Dietrich points out his dispositions to C-in C West.

  The beginning of the end – Allied troops coming ashore, Normandy, 6 June 1944.

  Von Rundstedt on reassuming as C-in-C West in September 1944. On his right is Hans Gerd and in the centre, Blumentritt, who was about to depart.

  Planning conference for the Ardennes counter-offensive. Left to right: Model, Krebs, Westphal and von Rundstedt.

  Speer visits von Rundstedt on the eve of WATCH ON THE RHINE.

  The last flourish in the West fails – a German prisoner being escorted past a ‘brewed up’ PzKpfwV (Panther).

  February 1945 – von Rundstedt with Schlemm, whose First Parachute Army fiercely resisted Montgomery’s advance to the Rhine.

  Von Rundstedt’s ultimate downfall – German prisoners on the newly seized bridge over the Rhine at Remagen, March 1945.

  Hans Gerd and Gerd with Major General Frank W Milburn, commander XXI US Corps shortly after their capture.

  Von Rundstedt and his son at Wiesbaden, June 1945.

  Arrival at Island Farm Camp, Bridgend, South Wales, January 1946.

  At Bridgend railway station on return from Nuremberg, August 1946. Left to right: Captain Lees, Blumentritt, von Rundstedt, Sergeant Strauss (interpreter), von Kleist and Heinrici (obscured).

  The von Rundstedts at Nordstadt Hospital, Hannover after the Field Marshal’s release from captivity in 1949.

  Von Rundstedt’s grandsons, Gerd and Eberhard, with his ceremonial baton on the day of his death.

  The Last Salute, Hannover-Stöcken, 28 February 1953.

  ‘Rundstedt makes an increasingly favourable impression on me on further acquaintance. He has a rather too orthodox mind, not only in the operational sphere, but he has a “good feel” in regard to character, as well as a good mind compared to many others. He is dignified without being arrogant, and essentially aristocratic in outlook – giving that term in its better sense. He has an austere appearance which is offset by a nice smile and a pleasant gleam of humour, which frequently comes out. I walked back with him to the compound, and when we reached the door of the Hall I motioned him to go in first, saying “after you”. He replied with a smile, “Oh, no, this is MY [sic] house”.’41

  To follow up his interviews, Liddell Hart also passed written questions through the camp interpreter, Captain F S Kingston, who became a firm ally, and the Generals were allowed to reply to Liddell Hart by letter.

  Liddell Hart’s next meeting with von Rundstedt was on 20 November, when he visited his room after interviewing others on the Norwegian campaign of April 1940.

  ‘He has a small room which he shares with his son. He had been lying down, but seemed very pleased to see me. (The camp staff say that he is becoming more lame, and only goes out for a quarter of an hour a day. It is due to some disease of the circulation that cannot be remedied – at any rate by such treatment as is available here. But he makes no complaints, and puts a remarkably cheerful face on his troubles, and discomforts – a contrast to some of his juniors here.)’42

  Liddell Hart became concerned by von Rundstedt’s health and believed that his thin Army mattress was hardly giving him any comfort. He asked Captain Kingston to try and obtain a better mattress for von Rundstedt from the local hospital. When this failed he offered to lend him a mattress, at least ‘until the family comes home for the holidays’. This would at least ease the pain in von Rundstedt’s leg and enable him to get some sleep.43 This offer was taken up, probably because Morton was on leave at the time, but it caused a ruction on his return. Morton was seemingly a believer in regulations, viewing any item in excess of official holdings as illegal, and apparently complained to the War Office. In Liddell Hart’s words, ‘I was told later that there was a voluminous correspondence about the matter, and that the file was called “The Case of Rundstedt’s Mattress’”. The file apparently grew very thick, but von Rundstedt was allowed to keep his mattress.44

  On 3 December, Liddell Hart gave his fourth and last lecture to the inmates of Grizedale Hall. In his official report, he noted, one suspects with some pride, that there were two Field Marshals in the audience. He commented that most of the questions were on the current political set-up in Europe and the future of Germany, and described his audience as mostly generals of the ‘civil service type’.45 Nine days later and indicative of the regard in which the inmates held him, Liddell Hart was especially invited to attend von Rundstedt’s 70th Birthday Party, which was held in h
is room. There was a cake and General Siegfried Heinrici presented the Field Marshal with a painting of Grizedale Hall on behalf of his fellow prisoners. Later, von Rundstedt’s family gave this painting to Liddell Hart ‘as a memento of their meetings and as a mark of friendship’.46

  On 3 January 1946, Liddell Hart had his last talk with von Rundstedt. The main focus of discussion was the portrait of the Field Marshal which ‘W E Hart’ had painted of the Field Marshal in his wartime publication Hitler’s Generals. The accusations which the author made on von Rundstedt’ activities in the 1920s and 1930s have already been discussed and have been shown to be baseless. According to the Imperial War Museum, the author’s real name was Aron47 and the flyleaf of his book claimed that he had been an officer in the Reichswehr and had left the country sometime after Hitler came to power. A search of the Reichswehr Army Lists 1920–1930 revealed no officer of that name. The interview concluded with Liddell Hart asking whether the other generals had appealed to him to lead an overthrow of Hitler, which von Rundstedt denied. Liddell Hart added in his notes on the talk: ‘While some German generals have complained that they looked to Rundstedt for such a lead, and that he failed them in this respect, those who knew him really well never seem to have expected him to do so. They regarded him as too simply a soldier and too outright [upright?] a man to be suitable for staging a plot.’48 This was to be the last time that Liddell Hart was to meet von Rundstedt face-to-face, but by no means the end of their relationship. On 6 January, the Generals left Grizedale Hall for a new camp in South Wales, the Hall becoming the home of Austrian officer POWs only. Liddell Hart himself shortly afterwards hurt his leg and was also engaged in moving house. He wanted to continue his discussions in the camp, but the authorities, now the Foreign Office’s Political Intelligence Division (PID), which had taken over responsibility for re-education, decided that Liddell Hart was no longer suitable because he spent too much time discussing recent history.49 He put the material which he had gathered, however, to good use and produced his book The Other Side of the Hill (The German Generals Talk, in the United States) in 1948, which was sold widely and has been published in a number of editions over the years. In recent years he has been attacked by a number of historians for twisting the evidence to demonstrate that the Blitzkrieg concept was his and that the Germans were much influenced by his pre-war writings on the subject.50 Undoubtedly there is strong evidence to support these accusations. On the other hand, it is clear that Liddell Hart had a genuine admiration for the leading German commanders, both for their professionalism as soldiers and the dignity with which they accepted defeat. As we shall see, he would shortly become their champion against what he considered to be the disgraceful official treatment of some, notably von Rundstedt, von Brauchitsch and von Manstein, and he would not be a lone voice.

  The Generals’ new camp was No 11 Special POW Camp at Island Farm, Bridgend in South Wales. Like Grizedale Hall, it had a previous history. It had originally been built as a dormitory camp for workers at the nearby Royal Ordnance Factory Waterton, which manufactured explosives, the idea being that it would save those living in the Welsh Valleys a long journey to and from work. It was not, however, much used and in 1943 had been handed over to the American Army. After D-Day it became vacant once more and began a new existence as No 198 POW Camp, housing German and Italian other ranks. It was then made an officers’ camp and among its inmates were many hardened Nazis. On the night 10/11 March 1945 no less than 66 of them tunnelled out of the camp, the largest escape attempt in Britain during the war, but all were quickly recaptured because the area was a high security one, in view of the existence of the ordnance factory, although one party, including a Luftwaffe pilot, managed to get as far as Birmingham airport.51 In the immediate aftermath, the prisoners were moved to other camps and Island Farm was once more empty. In November 1945, however, refurbishment work began to make it a senior officers’ camp and a fresh commandant, Major Denis Topham, Grenadier Guards, who had had previous experience with senior officer POWs at Trent Park Camp, the original home of CSDIC(UK),52 appointed. The camp itself consisted of a number of single story buildings, but was roomier than Grizedale Hall and von Rundstedt, as the camp senior, and his son were allocated a suite of two rooms in a hut specially reserved for Field Marshals, of whom there would now be three, since von Manstein had also been sent to Island Farm.

  Probably shortly after arriving at Island Farm, von Rundstedt was interviewed yet again, this time by Major Milton Shulman of the Canadian Army. He had been carrying out a series of interviews of senior commanders who had fought in the West and results of his work, would, like those of Liddell Hart, appear in book form, Defeat in the West. Shulman’s impression of his subject was as follows:

  ‘To-day the Field Marshal is tired. This describes his mental and physical condition. The onerous responsibilities of guiding the fate of millions of men, the continuous clash with the dominant wills of Hitler and his coterie, the last few years of heavy drinking in an endeavour to withstand the heavy pressure against him, all have exacted their price. A limp, exhausted body racked by constant pain due to weakened arteries is now the remnant of the relentless figure that once waved a Marshal’s baton before a victorious army goose-stepping along the Champs-Elysée. Yet despite the grey, parchment skin, the slightly bent frame and the thinning hair, it comes as a shock to discover that this man, casually flicking cigarette-ash off his purple, prisoner-of-war battle dress, is seventy-one years old. For Rundstedt has a face that is timeless. A straight firm nose, long thin lips and a determined, blunt jaw, give the impression of a sculptured bust, immutable and relentless. The tiny wrinkles and serried lines help to create this impression of chiselled rock. The eyes, however, bright and restless, reveal the presence of warm blood. An occasional, limited smile coupled with a dry restrained wit confirm the fact that this man is human after all. If stone predominates in the Field Marshal’s physical appearance, it probably betrays what has taken place in the spirit as well. This transformation to granite can hardly be wondered at, for only ossification could have withstood the buffeting of howling events that assailed him from all directions.’

  Once again von Rundstedt was taken through his career and campaigns. Shulman noted, however, that his subject generally kept strictly to the framework of the questions and tried to avoid political and philosophical matters. One of the few statements he volunteered was that the Canadians had fought well in North-West Europe (he was not the only one of Shulman’s interviewees to say this) and that the British were more cautious than the Americans, although he understood that this was because of their more limited manpower. He also agreed with the Montgomery approach that ‘an operation should not be undertaken until there was sufficient material on hand to ensure its being successful’. Shulman considered that von Rundstedt was not bitter or resentful of Hitler, but that he reserved his venom for Keitel and Jodl, whom he viewed as ‘yes’ men. His personal relations with Hitler were ‘always polite, impersonal and cool’. Yet, he was the only man in the Wehrmacht who was not forced to stand in Hitler’s presence. ‘Whenever I visited him, he always brought me a chair, and made old, fat Goering stand. I never knew why.’ The Field Marshal momentarily came to life when Shulman asked him about Hitler’s appearance at their last meeting.

  ‘He raised himself from his chair and went to the door of the room where he poised himself like an actor about to make an entrance. “When I saw him early in the war,” he began, “Hitler used to come into a conference like this.” Here he marched triumphantly forward, chest out, head disdainfully turning from side to side, and arms moving vigorously across his body, in a good imitation of the Hitler known to newsreel audiences. “When I last saw him in March 1945,” Rundstedt continued, going back to the door again, “he came in looking like this.” This time he bent his body forward like a very aged man, his feet shuffled slowly in front of him, and his arms and body trembled violently. The Field Marshal gave this act with a certain ease and familiarity, as
if he had done it many times before. He had probably regaled various High Command messes with it on previous occasions, and he was obviously pleased with his performance.’

  In conclusion, Milton Shulman commented: ‘If there is one impression more than any other that Rundstedt desired his interrogators to carry away with them, it was the overpowering influence of Hitler on all operations, and the helplessness of commanders in the field to make strategic or tactical decisions.’53

  By the time the Generals arrived at Island Farm, they were becoming increasingly concerned over their future. The decision had been made that not only would the IMT at Nuremberg try the surviving top-ranking Nazis in Allied hands, but also various organisations and bodies. These included the Reichs cabinet, SS, SA, Gestapo and the High Command and General Staff of the Wehrmacht. Should the last-named be found guilty, the future would clearly be bleak for all those senior commmanders at Island Farm and elsewhere. As it was there were already rumours flying around, even one that all the generals and the SS would be banished to Mexico for twenty years.54 It was a time of great uncertainty, but one thing was clear. The Generals had to defend their collective honour at Nuremberg.