Von Rundstedt himself tended to isolate himself from all but a few, who included the faithful Blumentritt and Admiral Hans Voss, whose English was impeccable and was accordingly the Liaison Officer between the prisoners and the staff. According to one of his daughters, Voss would talk little of his time in England – indeed, virtually no senior officer who published his memoirs mentioned captivity – but he did have one story of von Rundstedt. The Field Marshal took up painting at Island Farm, rediscovering his boyhood talent, and used to ask Voss for his comments. ‘Father’s favourite painting, which he described to us with some relish and much affection, was a landscape – a field bathed in the brilliant red light of a sunset. In the middle of the field sat a fox holding a carrot in its mouth!! Father did not offer artistic appreciation.’74 One suspects that von Rundstedt had inserted a little quiet humour. He also, apparently, became interested in the local flora and fauna and built up a collection of pressed flowers as another means of keeping himself occupied.75 General Sir Brian Horrocks, Montgomery’s favourite corps commander, was in charge of Western Command at the time and Island Farm was in his area of responsibility. He recalled visiting the camp on a number of occasions and talked to von Rundstedt:
‘To start with, he was suspicious, as he had never heard my name at all, which was hardly surprising because as one of the supreme commanders he dealt in rather higher coinage than British corps commanders … Von Rundstedt was chronically short of cigarettes but was much too proud to mention the fact. So we used to leave packets on the table by the door when we went out. I felt no particular hatred for the old field-marshal. We were both professional soldiers, and as far as I knew, he had always fought cleanly. He was, however, a typical Prussian general of the old school. I once said to him: “Have you any complaints? Is there anything I can do to improve the living conditions in your camp?” He replied: “Yes. Some of the German generals in this camp are not the sort of people with whom we are used to mixing. I would be grateful if you would have them moved to another camp.” “Who are those undesirable generals?” I asked.
“General doctors and general engineers.” he said. “It is most unpleasant for us real generals to be forced to live with people like that.” Needless to say, no steps were taken to effect his particular improvement, and I left them all to get on together as best they could.’76
About the only inmate of Island Farm who did write about his experiences there was Frido von Senger und Etterlin, the defender of Cassino. He agreed with von Rundstedt that prisoners were there who could not really be considered as generals, especially the members of the Labour Service (Reichsarbeitdienst). He also noted that the prisoners tended to form three distinct groups. There were those like himself who had been open critics of the régime before the end of the war, those who criticised Hitler only after the fighting had finished and who would not accept that his shortcomings had been noticeable before then, and, finally, the die-hards.77 Von Rundstedt seems to have kept himself apart from all three groups and according to Hans Guetler, who waited on von Rundstedt at the camp, he especially distanced himself from the SS generals.78
In October 1946 there was a new visitor to the camp. He was to become a well known face to the inmates during the next few months and the futures of many became very dependent on him. Repatriation of prisoners-of-war to Germany had begun the previous month, but every man had to be carefully screened. They were placed in three categories akin to the groupings described by von Senger. Otto John was sent to Island Farm to carry out this task. He was uniquely qualified to do so. He had worked as a lawyer for Lufthansa, the national German airline, and had become deeply involved in resistance to Hitler. Heavily implicated in the July 1944 Bomb Plot, he managed to escape by the skin of his teeth, using his Lufthansa connection to take an aircraft to Lisbon, and had finished the war working for Sefton Delmer’s radio black propaganda campaign. He took on the job because he ‘would have a unique opportunity to clarify the burning question why our senior commanders had served Hitler to the bitter end, although by the time of the great murders of 30 June 1934, at the latest, they must have realised that he was a criminal’.79 A number of those at Island Farm already knew him since they, too, had been involved in resistance and this broke the ice. While only those who were not members of proscribed organisations, like the SS, or on CROWCASS lists, were eligible for repatriation, John naturally wanted to interview as many of the prisoners as possible. Not surprisingly, von Rundstedt was very suspicious of him, but apparently, ‘opened up completely’ when John was able to arrange for Hans Gerd, who had developed a seemingly incurable throat problem, and whom John regarded as having had nothing to do with Nazi ideology, to be repatriated. Hans Gerd left Bridgend on 17 November 1946, and after short stays at two other camps, at Llanmartin, also in Wales, and Hereford, he was released on 30 January 1947 and returned to Germany. In the meantime, Ditha and the children had been having a hard struggle. Because the Allies had separated Austria from Germany, she found herself a foreigner with no rights and could not even obtain identity cards for herself and the children. Without these, they were not entitled to ration cards. Eventually, in August 1946, the Allied authorities ordered them to return to Germany, which they did with three stranded and wounded German officers. Relations in Brunswick had Barbara and Gerd to stay with them, while Ditha and the two youngest children found accommodation in two rooms of a farm near Hildesheim, which is where Hans Gerd was reunited with his family.80
Throughout von Rundstedt’s first year at Island Farm, he continued to be troubled by the pain from his arthritic hips. He was, however, given treatment for this three times a week at the Bridgend Emergency Service Hospital. The senior physiotherapist there at the time, Elgiva Thomas, recalls that his appointments were always at teatime and that she gave him and Dr Blum, a fellow prisoner-of-war who always accompanied him, a cup of tea after his treatment was finished. Von Rundstedt was very appreciative and in February 1947 presented Elgiva Thomas with a signed portrait of himself inscribed ‘for thankful remembrance’.81
In February also, the Americans began to indicate that they wanted von Brauchitsch, who was by then in hospital, von Manstein and von Rundstedt extradited for interrogation. They then placed them on CROWCASS List 55 and, in April, made a formal extradition demand. All three had testified for the defence during the IMT trial of the High Command and General Staff. Since then the Americans had unearthed a mass of new evidence against them and, in Telford Taylor’s words, wanted ‘to “show them up” against their earlier testimony’.82 To this demand the British Government replied that since the Poles also wanted them, they would have to decide who had the best right to them.83 It would appear that they were not convinced by the American case and were using this ploy to play for time.
In the meantime, on 17 March, von Rundstedt left Bridgend once more to fly to Germany, this time to Wuppertal to appear as a defence witness for Blumentritt. A member of the War Crimes Investigation Unit (North West Europe) noted that on his arrival ‘several German civilians recognised him, but there was no “grand welcome”’.84 The trial in which Blumentritt was involved was the Poitiers Case. This concerned an operation mounted by the British 1st Special Air Service (SAS) regiment, Operation BULBASKET. A total of 55 troops were dropped into central France with the object of disrupting railways in the Limoges-Orleans-Poitiers-Nevers-Vierzon region. Their base was betrayed and attacked by elements of General Kurt Gallenkamp’s LXXX Corps. Thirty-two men were captured and taken to Poitiers prison, where 29 were shot and three, who had been wounded, apparently given fatal injections. This was all in pursuance of the 1942 Commando Order and the two subsequent orders of June 1944. The murders had taken place on or about 7 July 1944, after von Rundstedt had left the theatre but while Blumentritt was still Chief of Staff. In the event, the prosecution offered no evidence against Blumentritt, even though Gallenkamp tried to maintain that he had been absent at the time and that it was Blumentritt or the Operations Section of Ob West which had
given the orders. Indeed, Blumentritt was actually called as a witness and denied any knowledge of the matter until a few days before the trial. Although no record of the detailed proceedings appears till to exist, it would seem that von Rundstedt was not, in the end, called upon to testify. Eventually, Gallenkamp and one other were sentenced to death, one was imprisoned for life, another for a lesser term and the remaining four, including Blumentritt, acquitted.85
On 9 April, von Rundstedt returned by air to Britain and to Hotel Island Farm. It would seem that during this time the War Crimes Investigation Group in Germany had been investigating von Rundstedt. On 9 May, the Deputy Judge Advocate General’s Officer (War Office) informed the POW Division of the Control Office for Germany & Austria (COGA) at the Foreign Office that they did not want him for any war crimes, although they pointed out that both Poland and the United States did.86 For von Rundstedt, however, the summer was quiet, apart from his ill health, which continued to dog him, so much so that a medical board, towards the end of August, recommended his repatriation.87 This was not possible since the Field Marshal, together with von Manstein and von Brauchitsch, were now categorised as war criminals to be detained in custody,88 although they were not informed of this. Von Rundstedt also fell out with his fellow Field Marshal, von Manstein; it is not clear why, although Ted Lees said that it was because von Manstein still had too much of a Nazi stance.89 It is probable, though, that the mutual antipathy was brought about as much as anything by the environment in which they were living, especially the continued uncertainty over their future. At the beginning of October, however, von Manstein, suffering from a cataract and diabetes, was transferred to No 99 Military Hospital at Stafford, joining von Brauchitsch, who had been a patient there with stomach trouble since April.90 But while all remained relatively calm at Bridgend, an American bombshell had hit London. It was to cause the British Government almost two years of agonising over the disposal of the German Field Marshals in its hands.
14
War Criminal
ON 6 AUGUST 1947, Brigadier General Telford Taylor, the American Chief of Counsel for War Crimes, wrote from Nuremberg to Sir Hartley Shawcross (now Lord Shawcross), the British Attorney-General, with a copy to Mr Macaskie, Head of the Legal Division of the Control Commission for Germany (British Element) in Berlin. He had been instructed to do this by the Military Governor of the United States Zone of Germany, General Lucius Clay, earlier in the year. The Americans were in the course of preparing trials of German military commanders in their hands and Clay did not want it to look as if only the United States were charging Generals with war crimes.1 He reminded Shawcross of the finding of the International Military Tribunal at Nuremberg on the German General Staff, namely that they could not be found guilty as a group, but their leaders were a ‘ruthless military caste’ who had been ‘responsible in large measure for the miseries and suffering that have fallen on millions of men, women, and children … Where the facts warrant it, these men should be brought to trial so that those among them who are guilty of these crimes should not escape punishment.’
In the course of preparing for their trials of German military leaders, Taylor’s office had come across ‘a very substantial amount of evidence’ implicating von Rundstedt, von Manstein, von Brauchitsch and Colonel General Rudolf Strauss (who had commanded the Ninth Army in Russia in 1941 and had then been sacked by Hitler) in war crimes. Enclosed with the letter was an 82 page memorandum summarising this evidence. ‘This material is forwarded for your information and for whatever action your Government deems appropriate under Control Council Law No. 10 and the Judgement of the International Military Tribunal.’ the memorandum itself was wide ranging in its accusations, covering both the Eastern and Western Fronts. They fell into three broad categories – war crimes, crimes against humanity and crimes against peace. The first-named category covered the Commissar Order of 1941, the Commando Order in its various guises, and, referring to Poland and the Eastern Front, murder and ill-treatment of prisoners of war and their employment in dangerous and prohibited labour. Crimes against humanity dealt mainly with the murder and ill-treatment of civilians in the occupied territories of the East, but also referred to von Rundstedt’s involvement with conscription and deportation as forced labour of civilians in occupied Western Europe. The final category involved von Brauchitsch’s and von Rundstedt’s connivance in the invasions of Poland, Norway and Denmark, France and the Low countries, Yugoslavia and Greece, and the Soviet Union.2 In all it was a damning document and one that the British Government could not ignore.
Yet, there was no immediate official reaction. Shawcross himself was on holiday, sailing in his yacht and incommunicado.3 Not until a month later did he inform the Foreign and War Offices of the Taylor memorandum, but this he sent only to Captain Frederick Bellenger, the Secretary of State for War, warning Ernest Bevin, the Foreign Secretary, that the War Office would doubtless be consulting him.4 In the meantime, the British Deputy Military Governor in Germany, General Sir Brian Robertson, had read it and commented that he suspected that much of the evidence gleaned was based on the writings of General Franz Haider, who was now in American hands and recording all he knew of the Nazi era for the benefit of history. Haider, Robertson pointed out, was no friend of any of the three Field Marshals. The Foreign Office agreed with this and considered that the Field Marshals could be used in the same way as Haider, a suggestion to which John Wheeler-Bennett, the eminent historian, who was then working in the German Section of the Foreign Office, agreed with alacrity.
‘It does not seem entirely just that General Haider, having “sold out” to the Americans, should have the opportunity of establishing a historical monopoly, while these general officers, to whom he was bitterly opposed, are denied a chance of recording their own version of those events with which Haider will undoubtedly deal in his memoirs. In any case, it seems a pity to deprive ourselves of what would clearly be material of outstanding historical interest and value.’5
Nevertheless, at this stage the Foreign Office had not yet seen the evidence, which was with the War Office, the government department responsible for prosecuting war crimes. The agreed Foreign Office view was that unless the evidence was ‘overpoweringly strong’ the matter should not be pursued by the Government but left to the denazification courts on the Field Marshals’ return to Germany. Besides, British public opinion, which had been disquieted by the recent trial in Italy of Field Marshal Kesselring, probably would not stand for such a trial taking place at this late stage.6 On 3 October Bellenger wrote to Bevin giving the War Office view of the Taylor memorandum:
‘It discloses a strong prima facie case against Field Marshals Brauchitsch, Rundstedt and Manstein and Generaloberst Strauss of responsibility for certain war crimes and crimes against humanity.
We were all hoping that there would be no more of these trials of German Generals, but we clearly cannot ignore this evidence which has been brought to our notice by the Americans and if these officers were responsible for the war crimes and crimes against humanity alleged against them they ought not to escape trial and punishment merely because the evidence has only now been unearthed.’
There were, however, problems. First, there were clearly vast quantities of documentary evidence held by the Americans, which had to be considered and there would also be the need for a ‘good many’ interrogations. The War Office did not have the staff to do this and lacked an officer ‘possessing the background, experience and linguistic qualifications necessary to interrogate accused of the standing and ability of Brauchitsch or Rundstedt’. Besides, ‘the charges which are likely to emerge from this evidence have rather a Nuremberg character and are perhaps more suitable for trial under the United States procedure than by a British military court’. For these reasons, Bellenger recommended that the British not take on the trials. Instead, he suggested that the Poles, Russians, Belgians or Americans pursue the matter.7 In the meantime, Frederick Elwyn-Jones MP (later Lord Elwyn-Jones), Shawcross’s P
arliamentary Private Secretary, who had been a prosecuting counsel at the International Military Tribunal, had visited Nuremberg and discussed the matter with Telford Taylor. He was clearly convinced by what Taylor had to say. While the British had tried a number of generals for war crimes,
‘The fact remains, however, that the leading and perhaps worst offenders in this field have not yet been brought to trial. Now the Americans hope to bring their war crimes programme to an end with a trial of leading German militarists. They want to include in the case those generals who were in the closest planning relationship with Hitler, who instigated and planned aggressive wars and wars in violation of treaties and who issued and distributed orders pursuant to which extensive war crimes and crimes against humanity were committed by the field formations of the German Army.’
The Last Prussian Page 35