The Last Prussian

by Messenger, Charles;

  Some of these generals – the three Field Marshals and Strauss – were in British hands. The Taylor memorandum ‘makes a powerful case’ and a prosecution based on it ‘would have every probability of being successful’. Few of the documents mentioned had been available at the International Military Tribunal and if they had been ‘we could have shown Rundstedt and Brauchitsch … to be not only perjurers but also criminals. The new evidence as to their personal involvement seems to me to be overwhelming.’ He believed that the options were to either let the Americans try them or to have a joint trial. If the British did nothing it ‘might give the impression that we opposed the American effort. The Germans would not be slow to draw false deductions from such a situation.’ These views he passed not just to Shawcross, but to the Lord Chancellor, Foreign Secretary, Secretary of State for War and Lord Wright, Chairman of the United Nations War Crimes Commission (UNWCC), as well.8

  Elwyn-Jones’s letter made it clear that the Government had to take a decision quickly. The Foreign Office briefed Bevin that both in terms of resources and the likely public reaction, it was not desirable for the British to try the Field Marshals themselves. Indeed, domestic public opposition would do Britain ‘a good deal of harm in Europe, whose memories of the German methods are longer and more vivid than our own, and would needlessly supply the Russians with an effective propaganda weapon’. The other possible course of action was to ask the Americans to try them at Nuremberg, which had ‘both the staff and the organisation to cope with the problem’. It should, however, be recognised that the Americans considered that Britain had not played her full part in the trial of the ‘more virulent offenders’. An indication of this was that Britain was one of the few countries which had no permanent representative at Nuremberg.9 The upshot was that Bevin decided that the Americans should be approached, but wanted first to establish the best method of doing this, either through Marshal of the Royal Air Force Sir Sholto Douglas, the British Military Governor in Germany, to the American Military Government or through the British Ambassador to Washington, Sir William Strang, to General Lucius Clay, the US Military Governor, who was on a visit to Washington at the time. Accordingly a telegram was sent to Sholto Douglas on 15 October requesting that he ask the Americans how best to make the formal approach to them.10

  It was now that problems of coordination among British Government departments began to show themselves. On the same day that the Foreign Office’s exploratory telegram was sent to Berlin, a meeting was held by the Lord Chancellor, Viscount Jowitt, with the Solicitor General, Treasury Solicitor and Elwyn-Jones. This had been triggered by a meeting which Jowitt had had with Macaskie, from Berlin, at which Jowitt had indicated no strong feelings on the matter, but felt that the Field Marshals should be handed over to the Americans. He now held this second meeting without reference to the Foreign Office. However, when Elwyn-Jones apparently gave the impression that Bevin had already decided on the matter, Jowitt complained that he had not been consulted.11

  Lucius Clay clearly got wind very quickly of what was afoot. On 19 October, he signalled Telford Taylor that he had no wish to take von Rundstedt and the others back and would not countenance a joint trial since this would be going back on the Allied decision to proceed unilaterally. The current Nuremberg trials programme was designed to establish a ‘precedent for the future’ and was not aimed at individuals. ‘History will make no distinction between a von Rundstedt and a von Leeb’, even though von Rundstedt was better known outside Germany.12 On 23 October, Sholto Douglas replied to the Foreign Office request of the 15th. Reflecting his increasing distaste for the whole war crimes business, he stated that neither he nor Robertson were prepared to approach Clay until he was satisfied:

  ‘… that the equity of our proposed action has been carefully considered. We apparently do not wish to be concerned in these trials because public opinion in England will be revolted. We know that the Americans will make use of a lot of evidence of very dubious character. Yet we are apparently prepared to send these men, including one who is 73, to trial by the Americans. I frankly do not like this. I feel that if the Americans wish to be critical about our inaction in trying war criminals, I should prefer that they should continue to criticise rather than that we should commit an injustice in order to avoid their criticism.’13

  Thus, the Americans had still not been formally told what the British’ decision was and it was hardly surprising that on that same day, 23 October, Telford Taylor should write to Shawcross asking him whether the British Government had officially reacted to his memorandum, which he had sent in early August. He made the point that some of the defendants in the American trial of von Leeb, von Küchler and others had served under von Rundstedt, von Manstein and von Brauchitsch at various times, and that some of the charges against them were based on orders transmitted by these Field Marshals. The defendants, too, might wish to call the Field Marshals as witnesses. It was thus essential to know what the British intended to do before Taylor drew up his indictment. Finally, he enclosed two cuttings from The Stars and Stripes on the SS Einsatzgruppen trial, then taking place at Nuremberg, which indicated evidence against both von Rundstedt and von Manstein.14 Shawcross could not give Taylor an immediate reply since the Government had still not finally made up its mind. Thus the Foreign Office, in reply to Douglas’s telegram, assured him that no final decision had been reached and that his views would be considered. He must nevertheless find out Clay’s views.15 These Robertson transmitted to the Chancellor for the Duchy of Lancaster, Lord Pakenham (now the Earl of Longford), the minister responsible for the British Zone in Germany at the Foreign Office, on 11 November. Not surprisingly, Clay said that he did not wish to accept the Field Marshals for trial, especially since the indictment for the trial of the generals held by the Americans had been completed. Douglas noted, however, that informally Clay had told him that he was not keen on trying the Field Marshals and hoped that the British would not try them either.16 On the 15th he followed this up with a letter to Pakenham. He had heard a suggestion from the British Embassy to Moscow that the Russians should be reproached for not having tried Paulus and Seydlitz-Kurzbach, the ill-fated and erstwhile commander of the German Sixth Army and one of his corps commanders, who had been captured at Stalingrad. Better, he suggested, to wait until the Russians criticised the failure to try von Rundstedt and the others. ‘This makes a perfect argument to them and with the Americans plainly out of the field should enable us to drop the whole question of a trial as I am sure we are advised to do.’17 There was, however, a flaw in this argument. Seydlitz-Kurzbach was the very same general whose anti-Hitler public utterances while a prisoner in Russia had sent Schmundt scurrying to von Rundstedt in March 1944 to obtain a written declaration of loyalty from him. Paulus, too, had been used as a Russian propaganda weapon. The Russians could therefore argue that these two had recanted and contributed to the anti-Hitlerite cause. The same argument could not be used in relation to von Rundstedt and his fellow Field Marshals in British hands. Be that as it may, Pakenham replied to Robertson with a reassuring telegram:

  ‘Legal advisers are at present studying the statement of evidence against the German generals held by us which was produced by the Americans. Unless there is strong evidence of participation in crimes against humanity, we are unlikely to proceed with the matter. The possible Russian reaction was not a factor affecting our decision but, as you say, their failure to try von [sic] Paulus and Seydlitz provides us with a ready answer to any objection they might raise.’18

  Others did not share this view.

  Fed up with the now endless pressure from Telford Taylor to find out what the British Government had decided, Shawcross wrote to Bevin from New York, where he was visiting the United Kingdom Delegation to the United Nations, with ill-concealed irritation. The British were continuing to try ‘small fry’ in Germany, but ‘it would be open to severe criticism if, while punishing these small fry, we allow the really big fish in our custody to escape.’ He co
uld not understand Sholto Douglas’s assertion of doubtful American evidence since Elwyn-Jones, ‘a very capable lawyer’, had concluded that there was ‘ample and satisfactory evidence that these officers were guilty of war crimes’. Further, he had received a telegram from Telford Taylor stating that Otto Ohlendorf, commander of the infamous Einsatzgruppe D in the Ukraine during 1941–42, had ‘heavily implicated’ von Manstein in his defence. Finally, his office had been told by the Foreign Office, following a meeting to which neither he nor the Lord Chancellor had been invited, to inform Telford Taylor of Clay’s decision not to try the Field Marshals in British hands. The Foreign Office had taken over the matter, but did not seem to wish to communicate with Taylor direct. It was, as Bevin commented in the margin, ‘a muddle’ and he ordered Sir Orme Sargent, Permanent Under-Secretary to the Foreign Office, to give the matter urgent attention, ensuring that all parties were consulted, so that the Foreign Secretary could make a decision.19 The wheels now began to turn more quickly and by 2 December Bevin was writing to Jowitt, with copies to Emanuel Shinwell, who had recently taken over from Bellenger as Secretary of State for War, Shawcross and Robertson, that in his view the only option was for a British military court to try the Field Marshals. Jowitt was ‘sorry to hear’ that Bevin considered a trial necessary as he had hoped to ‘pack up the whole business’ by the end of the year. Nevertheless, he accepted that ‘if the evidence is as damning as you say’ a trial would have to take place.20 As a next step, Bevin convened a meeting at the Foreign Office. This took place on 19 December and was attended by Jowitt, Shinwell, Shawcross, the Judge Advocate General and other members of their departments. Significantly, Jowitt had still not been given a copy of the Taylor memorandum and it was agreed that he should study this before any further decision was made.21 Jowitt’s view was that there was a prima facie case on the summary of evidence, although it was not as strong in the case of Strauss, but he warned that there might be problems in obtaining offending orders actually signed by the Field Marshals and to prove that war crimes had actually been committed on the strength of these orders.22

  Von Rundstedt and the others were, of course, totally unaware that these deliberations had been taking place. In September 1947 a new commandant, Major Charles Clements MC of the 4th Hussars, took over from Denis Topham at Island Farm. His orders from the War Office made it plain that he was to take full responsibility for the camp and was not to refer any problems to the War Office. His impression was that the War Office ‘was bound by red tape and political opinion to treat the Germans with a severity of which they did not approve, and were inhibited from making any official relaxation but that I could do what I thought right in the matter; the important thing was to avoid any publicity’. Having himself been a prisoner-of-war in Germany, he was sympathetic to the Generals’ plight. His first act was to remove the live ammunition carried by the camp guards, ‘who were soldiers of the lowest calibre’. In terms of his relations with the prisoners he dealt solely with von Rundstedt and Hans Georg von Seidel, formerly the Luftwaffe Quartermaster-General and now Camp Leader. He used to make a weekly courtesy visit to von Rundstedt’s room:

  ‘… at the appointed time I knocked at the door of his room and he answered “Herein” [come in] and rose to greet me. We sat down and he offered me a cigarette from his slender store. Having discussed the business of the camp, we continued a general conversation for some time and when I rose to leave I left a packet of decent cigarettes on his table; the canteen supply were of very inferior quality.’

  Clements was also able to supply the Field Marshal with a little alcohol from time to time. Noting that the new commandant was a cavalryman, von Rundstedt explained how all his family had been the same and that the high point of his military career had been command of 2nd Cavalry Divison.

  The Generals, said von Rundstedt, had two major grievances. Unlike in other camps by this time, they were not allowed outside the perimeter except under escort. Clements replied that they could do as they liked provided that they behave as officers and gentlemen and avoided any publicity, warning them that if they abused this they might well find themselves with a new and less sympathetic commandant. Von Rundstedt replied that, as soldiers, they knew what was required and assured him that there would be no trouble. Consequently, the Generals were seen much more about the neighbourhood and were, in Clements’ words, ‘extensively entertained by all classes’. None, as far as Clements was aware, abused this privilege, although he did hear a rumour that, on one occasion, one of them had misbehaved and that von Rundstedt had ‘effectively dealt with him’. The other complaint was over the regulation that the Generals had to salute junior British officers. Clements explained to von Rundstedt that there was nothing that he could do about this, but he soon found a solution. ‘The Generals were shirking around trying to avoid saluting, and so whenever I saw a General I saluted him. Within days they were competing to get their salute in first.’23

  Von Rundstedt had a more immediate worry on his mind at this time. In June 1947, his son had been admitted to a church hospital in Hannover, suffering from what turned out to be throat cancer. At the beginning of December, the Bishop of Hannover wrote to Pakenham saying that Hans Gerd was likely to die in the near future and asked whether his father could be granted leave on parole in order to go and see him.24 Pakenham was very sympathetic and passed the matter via Robertson to the Foreign Office. The letter arrived on the desk of Earl Jellicoe, who had recently joined the Foreign Office after a highly distinguished wartime career in the Special Air Service. He noted that von Rundstedt was in a ‘frozen’ category, pending investigation of war crimes charges. As such he could not be granted compassionate leave since this had been refused to others in this situation. Instead he suggested that von Rundstedt be discharged from the Wehrmacht, arrested as a civilian war criminal and granted parole. At the end of this he could be re-arrested and sent to Vishbek Civil Internment Camp near Bremen, although ‘he would be unlikely to survive the conditions there for more than a week’. Understandably, his colleagues did not think that this was a good idea and recommended that the Bishop’s request be refused. Jellicoe then had second thoughts. He discovered that none of the other compassionate cases in the frozen category had been of the same urgency. Furthermore, the Judge Advocate General’s Branch in the War Office, which was responsible to UNWCC for war crimes cases, had no objection and strongly believed that he should remain a prisoner-of-war and not be discharged into civilian status. Accordingly, it was agreed that von Rundstedt should be flown by air to Germany on a week’s compassionate leave and that he should be given a two pounds grant from the Foreign Office funds to buy comforts for his son from the local Navy Army Air Force Institutes (NAAFI) shop. The Generals were, in fact, each paid sixteen pounds per month (roughly equivalent to the pay of a British Army sergeant of the day). This money was held in camp private accounts, but could only be drawn in the form of vouchers, which had no value outside the camp perimeter; hence the need to give von Rundstedt an extraordinary grant.

  Having spent the night at the London District Cage, von Rundstedt was flown unescorted to RAF Buckeburg near Hannover on 22 December and accommodated at the British Transit camp at Hannover, but treated as a prisoner-of-war.25 He was able to visit his son daily and, on Christmas Day, there was a family reunion at which he saw Bila for the first time since he had been handed over to the British. She noted that Hans Gerd seemed a little better while his father was able to visit him.26 Barbara, who was seeing her grandfather for the first time for six years, recalls: ‘I can never forget the sorrow in his eyes when he was accompanied by an English major to see his son for the last time. I felt disappointment that he would never permit himself to cry. I have never seen tears in his eyes; with his iron discipline he kept them back.’27 Von Rundstedt was thus understandably, as he wrote to Liddell Hart on his return to England on the 29th to thank him for a Christmas card and gift of cigarettes, in ‘a great anxiety’ and hoped ‘that God will do a
miracle and heal my poor son’.28 No such miracle took place and Hans Gerd passed away on 12 January 1948. Three days later von Rundstedt received a telegram informing him of this. It was a blow from which he never really recovered.

  There was one small footnote to this sad saga. On von Rundstedt’s return from Germany it was discovered that he had spent Fifteen Shillings and Fourpence (77p) in excess of the Two Pound Foreign Office grant. The War Office wrote to the Foreign Office to ask if they would pay this. They in turn tried without success to get the International Red Cross to foot the bill and not until March 1948 did they finally agree to settle it.29

  In the meantime, the war crimes business rumbled on. It now seemed that the War Office had been saddled with the responsibility of bringing the Field Marshals to trial, but they were not happy about this. In early January 1948, Shinwell arranged to have them examined by an Army Medical board. No sooner had von Rundstedt returned to Island Farm from Hannover than he was taken up to Stafford, where von Brauchitsch and von Manstein were still in hospital, for the medical examination. The Board noted in von Rundstedt’s case that he complained of ‘general weakness, giddiness, palpitations and headaches made worse by change in posture; also progressive insomnia, recurrent pains in the right shoulder, right hip-joint and both hands’. Examination revealed ‘a markedly general senile physique’, poor appetite, and loss of memory for recent events, as well as chronic arterio-scelerosis and osteo-arthritis. Not surprisingly, the Board concluded that for von Rundstedt to be tried as a war criminal would ‘adversely affect his health’, as it would the other three as well. Shinwell sent these findings to Bevin. ‘In these circumstances I have formed the view that these prisoners-of-war, owing to their state of health, should not be brought before British Military Courts or at all. That would leave them to be repatriated in the ordinary way and in due course of time.’30 This put another fly in the ointment for the Foreign Office, especially since they were sensitive to the fact that two generals in Allied captivity, Blaskowitz and Otto von Stülpnagel, chose the beginning of February to commit suicide while awaiting trial at Nuremberg and Paris respectively. Shinwell’s recommendation thus seemed attractive, even though, as one official minuted: ‘The War Office has never been particularly enthusiastic about trying these Generals, and we have been at some pains to keep them up to the mark, because of international repercussions.’ It was not unnaturally the latter, in the Foreign Office view, which might prove to be the stumbling block. They noted that the Americans did not seem keen on the Field Marshals being tried at all, although the only evidence for this appeared to be Clay’s off the record comments to Robertson of the previous autumn, and that the Russians had not requested their extradition. The Belgians and the French, on the other hand, might be upset if the charges were not proceeded with. It was therefore decided that they should be unofficially approached through the British ambassadors to establish what their reactions might be.31 They were asked to reply with some urgency since Fitzroy Maclean, who had led the British mission to Tito to Yugoslavia during the war, had a parliamentary question on von Rundstedt’s future down for answer by the Secretary of State for War in the House of Commons on 17 February. The reaction from Brussels was that the Belgian Minister of Justice said that although von Rundstedt was on their list of war criminals they had concluded since the IMT at Nuremberg that he was not as guilty as they first thought and he did not think that the Belgian people, apart from some in the Ardennes, would be unduly disturbed if he was released. The Political Director at the Foreign Ministry was rather less sanguine. He believed that public opinion would be upset and that if von Rundstedt was released it should not be given undue publicity.32 Indeed, the latter view was supported by an article which appeared in a Belgian newspaper at this time. This gave a paraphrase of a hardhitting piece written by Elwyn-Jones, which had appeared in the British News Chronicle. This had been written in response to a piece which had appeared in A J Cummings’ ‘Spotlight’ column in the same newspaper a few days earlier. Cummings had noted that a former Member of Parliament had written to the Prime Minister asking for von Rundstedt’s release. Von Rundstedt’s reaction to this news had apparently been: ‘What is the good of going back to Germany only to be bumped off by the Americans?’ Cummings also noted von Rundstedt’s popularity among the local Welsh people and how they had nicknamed him Tapa Rundstedt’. Elwyn-Jones considered this singularly inappropriate and made several war crimes accusations against the Field Marshal. In view of these, it was hardly surprising that he had no wish to return to Nuremberg. Given Elwyn-Jones’s official position and the fact that the Government had still not made up its mind whether the Field Marshal’s should be put on trial, it is somewhat surprising that he should have rushed into print in this way. The Belgian article, however, agreed with everything Elwyn-Jones said and, in view of the memory of the ‘Ardennes martyrs’, also considered von Rundstedt’s nickname misplaced.33 The British ambassador to Paris was more forthright. The French, even though they had not pursued their demands of autumn 1945, still held von Rundstedt to be at least partly responsible for the shooting of hostages while he was C-in-C West and also remembered what went on in the Ardennes. The ambassador noted that there had been unfavourable comment in the left wing newspaper Franc Tireur on von Rundstedt’s visit to his dying son and that the French had constantly criticised the ‘alleged tenderness’ to the Germans on the part of the British. He therefore believed that, in spite of his state of health, von Rundstedt’s release ‘could not fail to arouse indignation’ in France.30 Thus, the Foreign Office had to go back to the drawing board. This was reinforced when, on 11 March, Marshal Sokolovsky, the Soviet Military Governor in Germany, demanded of Robertson the extradition of von Rundstedt, von Manstein and von Mackensen and cited Allied Control Order No 10. Robertson, however, was able to evade this by pointing out that extradition under Control Order No 10 only applied to those suspected of war crimes who were resident in Germany and that von Mackensen, was already serving a sentence for war crimes in the British military gaol at Werl.35