On to Victory

by Mark Zuehlke

  As Galloway described the tonnages involved, the Russian delegate interjected that “he was anxious that the supplies should be used solely for the Dutch population and Allied PW, including any Russian displaced persons, and in no circumstances by the forces of the occupying powers.” The Germans assured him that this was accepted.

  Discussion turned to delivery of food by road and rail. The Canadians had large truck convoys already mustered for road shipments, but it might be necessary for the cargoes to be transferred over to German vehicles. Were trucks available, and were the Germans able to provide rolling railway stock? Trains, the Germans replied, could only be used if the Allies supplied coal. Availability of German trucks and the fuel to power them was something they would have to determine.

  How would the food be distributed? Through Dutch authorities, the Germans said, and Prince Bernhard concurred. It was agreed that Dutch representatives, especially the Dutch Director of Food, Dr. S.L. Louwes, would attend the next meeting. Schwebel wanted this meeting held in No Man’s Land to “spare the Reichskommissar the humiliation of the blindfold!” De Guingand refused to change the venue, arguing that by the rules of war, responsibility for feeding the Dutch rested with the Germans. Seyss-Inquart would not have to wear a blindfold. Arrangements were made for Lieutenant General Foulkes to meet with a German officer of identical rank at an agreed point in No Man’s Land to decide how to move German and Dutch delegates through the lines. Schwebel pleaded that the details of both this and the meeting to come be kept secret, which de Guingand agreed to.11

  THROUGHOUT THE MEETING, Allied representatives had believed a first aerial drop was already underway. Due to bad weather over England, however, no planes were able to take off, including one that was to have returned General Harry Crerar to his command. But Sunday morning dawned with the acceptable conditions of no cloud cover below one thousand feet and visibility of three miles in the drop zone. Between 1256 and 1430 hours, about 240 aircraft—Lancaster bombers from RAF Nos. 1 and 3 Groups guided by about a dozen Mosquito Pathfinders—arrived over designated drop zones. Three of these were airfields, one outside Leiden, another The Hague, and the third Rotterdam. The fourth drop zone was a racecourse at The Hague. A total of five hundred long tons consisting of 550,000 rations spewed out of bomb bay doors from an altitude of four hundred feet. Two aircraft reported being fired on “by desultory rifle fire, but otherwise the fire was nil.” Operation Manna had begun.12

  The deliveries continued daily through to May 8. On April 30, 502 sorties were flown and 1,074.6 long tons containing 1,070,300 rations dropped. Almost seven hundred British and American planes sortied on May 1 to deliver close to 1.6-million rations. The highest tonnage fell the following day, and the lowest delivery was 319 long tons on May 8. For the entire period, 9,866,300 British POW rations, 720,000 U.S. POW rations and 889,000 Canadian standard rations were dropped. Earlier estimates had predicted that wastage due to boxes breaking open on striking the ground or being unrecoverable would reach 14 per cent, but it proved a fraction of that figure.13

  Pilot Officer Colin Friesen from Saskatoon flew five Manna missions, including the first one, in a RAF No. 150 Squadron Liberator. The crews had been briefed on the conditions imposed by the Germans. They were to fly at a specified altitude along a rigidly set course and were prohibited from tipping their wings, which could be construed as sending signals to the Dutch. Friesen’s squadron dropped its load over The Hague that day and again on April 30. By the second drop, he noticed that almost every barn roof had the message “Thank You, Canadians!” painted on it. Friesen was touched. Until these missions, all he had dealt in was destruction. Flying in at one thousand feet that second day, Friesen saw thousands of civilians gathered around the drop zone. They clung to treetops and stood on rooftops, a dense mat of humanity waving banners and caps. Friesen fancied he could hear their cheering. Also tracking their flight were the anti-aircraft guns, the barrels silently following the planes as they passed. Friesen flew his last mission on May 3, a drop outside Rotterdam.14

  Despite how close so many Dutch were to the food dropped, they were not allowed to help themselves. Instead, Dutch food authorities took control of the rations. Due to a series of miscalculations and logistical difficulties in moving the rations, none of this food, so hurriedly delivered by air, reached the people in need until May 9. Brigadier L.F. Field, one of the SHAEF staffers involved in the plan, complained afterwards that the Dutch “were extremely slow in getting the supplies distributed. In fact, they proposed to wait until 14 May before beginning distribution, but were forced by [Canadian] Civil Affairs officers who arrived after the Armistice to speed up their efforts.”

  Part of the problem was that the rations had been originally intended for prisoner-of-war camps. Fully 10.5 million of the 11.5 million tons dropped were “packed in sets which, when prepared, made up a day’s rations for 800 men. Had they been dropped in a POW camp, it would have been a simple affair to have . . . distributed them. Absorbing them in the individual civilian rations, though, proved an arduous task.”15

  Further explanations were given in a subsequent Canadian Civil Affairs report by Brigadier A.K. Reid. The distribution system involved the establishment of base supply depots staffed by Dutch Interior Forces, where the rations were to be broken down and transferred to civil distributing points for doling out to the populace. Although the concept was sound, the organization responsible for implementation “had been so disrupted by many of its members having become refugees or been forced to ‘go underground’ that its efficiency was proportionately impaired.” There was also an acute “shortage of vehicles, which was remedied only when Canadian military vehicles were made available to assist in ‘first line distribution.’” Also, “due to their weakened condition, civilians were physically incapable of manhandling supplies in bulk.”16 Another Canadian report noted that there was “hesitancy on the part of local authorities unfamiliar with the problems to take the initiative.”17

  Delivery would become more efficient and effective once I Canadian Corps was involved in the distribution process and also aiding the movement of supplies into western Holland by land and sea. But on April 29, there was still no German agreement to allow such deliveries.

  ON MONDAY, APRIL 30, the Dutch and German delegates headed towards Achterveld in separate parties. Departing The Hague with Seyss-Inquar t were Schwebel, Generalleutnant Paul Reichelt—Blaskowitz’s chief of staff—and about six other functionaries. Seyss-Inquart had offered the Dutch officials cars, but fearful of being compromised, Louwes had declined. Instead, he and six other Dutchmen crammed into a car powered by a gas generator and lurched towards the Grebbe Line. They met up with the Germans at Amersfoort, then in convoy continued to Hoevelaken. Leaving the cars and surrounded by German soldiers carrying white flags, the party headed cross-country on foot, clambering in places over barbed wire and jumping water-filled ditches. Where the Amersfoort- Apeldoorn highway crossed a railway, a group of Canadians waited with white flags visible. Taking the German and Dutch delegates from the German soldiers, the Canadians guided them to jeeps for transfer to a point behind the lines, where they boarded limousines for the journey on to Achterveld.18

  As the limousines bearing the Germans drove into the gravel lot next to the school and church, Seyss-Inquart was angered to see Prince Bernhard casually leaning against a large Mercedes touring car with the number-plate RK-1 (Reichkommissar 1) on it. Seyss-Inquart had lost the car during the evacuation from Apeldoorn, and the local resistance had presented it to the prince. He had deliberately parked the vehicle opposite the gate through which the Germans were to pass.19

  Lieutenant General Walter Bedell Smith, an American, had become Eisenhower’s chief of staff in 1943. Nicknamed “Beetle,” he had proven a capable manager and tough hatchetman when required. Seyss-Inquart was a hard man, but Smith was his match. Besides Smith, most Allied officers attending were the same present at the meeting two days earlier. Lieutenant General Charles
Foulkes and his chief of staff, Brigadier George Kitching, were also present because I Canadian Corps would play a pivotal role in the relief effort. So as not to be overshadowed in rank, the Soviets had sent a new representative, Major General Ivan Susloparov, to replace Colonel Zenkowitch.

  The Canadian guides directed the Germans towards the school entrance still absent any nearby flag. Staring straight ahead, Seyss-Inquart limped into the school. Only when the Germans were inside did the Dutch and Allied delegates enter. Kitching thought Seyss-Inquart an “unpleasant man . . . His eyes were pale blue and very cold, his blond hair was sparse, his lips were thin. He had a cruel face . . . It was obvious Seyss-Inquart could not be trusted; he alternated between a cold aloofness and an ingratiating warmth.”20 The Germans sat with their backs to the two doors leading into the conference room. Seyss-Inquart was in the middle with German representatives from the army, navy, and air force on either side. Their interpreter, the intelligence officer for 6th Fallschirmjäger Division, stood behind Seyss-Inquart. The Allied delegation was seated facing the Germans.21

  Lieutenant General de Guingand delivered a terse précis of the first meeting. Seyss-Inquart stated he would “of course agree to our demands to feed the poor Dutch people and would make all arrangements for this. He would not ask Berlin for permission to do it because he knew it would be refused.”

  Once more Air Commodore Geddes and Major General Galloway described the SHAEF plan, and details were quickly agreed. Kitching thought Seyss-Inquart was anxious to “place on record his deep feeling for the plight of the Dutch people,” but none of the Allied officers were convinced.22

  “In cold, matter-of-fact language the points connected with this food distribution were discussed. At the same time, the nature of the whole proceedings became more and more obvious. Here were the Allies, forced by a set of circumstances beyond their control, to negotiate with this man, one of the worst of the war criminals. Everyone realized at this stage [that] personal hatreds and true feelings regarding this unpleasant gentleman with whom we were dealing had to be subordinated to the common good. But all were determined that the Dutch should have food, come what might, and furthermore, that supplies should reach them with the very greatest speed,” recorded First Canadian Army’s chief of staff, Brigadier C.C. “Church” Mann.

  Broad principles settled, the conference broke into “commissions” with designated Allied, German, and Dutch representatives working out details. Mann thought it “fantastic . . . to see high-ranking German officers still in their own way masters of their own destinies, and still able to exercise command as they had been used to in the last five years, sitting alongside and discussing these problems of food distribution at the same table with the Allied officers. For six years the only proper place for German officers of this kind was either as corpses on the battle field or behind the bars of the PW cage. During these discussions they still held a semblance of power, even though it was diminishing so rapidly as to be almost non-existent.”23

  One of these subcommittee meetings was between Foulkes and Generalleutnant Hermann Plocher of 6th Fallschirmjäger Division to decide how convoys “by land and by water could pass freely from the Allied to the German side.” Plocher was a “tall, bald-headed individual and, unusual in a German officer,” Mann thought, “slightly grubby [and] not overburdened with wits and intelligence. During the whole of the ensuing conversation he appeared desperately anxious to avoid making any decisions which would put him out of faith with his superiors.” Plocher proposed only one road be considered neutral and only for a few hours each day. “When the ludicrous side of this suggestion was pointed out to him, he agreed that the idea was not particularly clever and could not work. To fight from ten to one, and from two to four, excluding Bank Holidays, appeared even to him to verge on the childish.”

  The convoys had to pass unmolested, Foulkes declared, so a truce over the complete battle front stretching from the Waal River to the IJsselmeer was desirable. Plocher looked aghast, claiming such a suggestion would have to be referred to higher authority. Foulkes offered to consider a smaller area, but it had to be sufficiently large to assure security for the convoys and so demarcated that it “could not possibly be mistaken by the stupidest man.” Plocher continued to try to whittle the area down to little or nothing, until finally Foulkes snapped that “he had had enough.” He would talk only with a military commander who “had authority to deal with him on his terms.” Either Blaskowitz must give Plocher such authority, or he must come to meet Foulkes personally and “thrash out the whole question.” Plocher telephoned Blaskowitz, who agreed to either meet directly or send someone empowered to act on his behalf. Meanwhile, Blaskowitz had assured Plocher that “the truce conditions existing on the whole front would continue.” Plocher seemed relieved. Mann realized the man feared being held responsible for any agreement constituting a formal ceasefire or, worse, a general surrender.24

  Blaskowitz had a question for the Allied representatives that showed he was thinking about surrendering but worried about the consequences. Was he on any Allied war criminal list? Phone calls were made to SHAEF and assurances given that he did not appear on any lists.25

  During the afternoon, Smith, Seyss-Inquart, Prince Bernhard, de Guingand and some others had discussed the possibility of German surrender in Holland. Clearly, the Germans had lost the war and surrender was inevitable, Smith declared. “I entirely agree,” Seyss-Inquart responded, but insisted that it was up to Blaskowitz to make such a decision. Smith dismissed this argument. The Reichkommissar was the political authority, and politicians rather than soldiers decided diplomacy. As for authority, Seyss-Inquart was free to act on his own initiative. Stubbornly, Seyss-Inquart invoked his standing in the eyes of future generations of Germans. He did not want his reputation stained by being responsible for an unconditional surrender. Smith snapped back that he would then be held responsible for further useless bloodshed.26

  Finally, in frustration, Smith said flatly, “Well, in any case, you are going to be shot.”

  “That leaves me cold,” Seyss-Inquart said softly.

  “It will,” Smith replied.27

  At 1730 hours, the general conference reconvened, and the subcommittee reports were presented for endorsement. Continuation of air drops was agreed, and Seyss-Inquart promised to ensure drop-zone security. Supply by ship could begin on May 4. The ships would be manned by merchant rather than Royal Navy personnel. They would dock in Rotterdam, and only three ships at a time would be allowed in. The road running from Wageningen on the Canadian side to Rhenen in the German-occupied zone would open at 0700 hours on May 2 for a lift of one thousand tons of supplies. Deliveries of equal size would continue each day thereafter. The Dutch would supervise the Rhenen depot. To help the Dutch with distribution from the depot, the Allies would provide two hundred lorries, of which one hundred would be delivered on May 2. Because freedom of movement on the canals could not be guaranteed without a ceasefire in place, the use of barges was shelved. Once documents confirming the agreements had been signed, the meeting broke up.28

  As Seyss-Inquart walked outside, Prince Bernhard pointed out the Mercedes. Seyss-Inquart didn’t rise to the bait. “Calm and indifferent as always, the German merely remarked that he had long wanted an excuse for a bigger one. The Germans entered their staff cars while the Dutch civilians crowded uncomfortably into another vehicle; then motors roared and the procession swung off down the street back through the German lines.”29

  AT NOON THE following day, Foulkes and Kitching arrived at a small dark-green wooden house about a mile west of Wageningen on the road running to Utrecht and just inside the Allied lines. They were joined by Generalleutnant Paul Reichelt, Blaskowitz’s chief of staff. Reichelt said Blaskowitz had agreed that a ten-mile-wide corridor between the Arnhem-Utrecht railway and the Waal River at Ochten would be opened to enable “unhindered” passage of supplies into western Holland.

  Foulkes countered that to facilitate moving supplies q
uickly to Amersfoort, Hilversum, and Utrecht, it would be preferable to extend the neutral area north from the railway to the IJsselmeer and declare a truce across the entire frontage where I Canadian Corps and the Germans faced each other. Any German offensive action, he warned, would present “consequent risks” to the whole plan for relief deliveries to these northern towns. Foulkes said he sought not a written truce but a “gentleman’s agreement.”

  Reichelt said he had no authority to offer one, but he would take the proposal to Blaskowitz. They should meet again in forty-eight hours. Foulkes added that he would order cessation of “any shelling, patrolling, or other form of offensive action. Thus, the responsibility for any incident that might occur would be on the shoulders of the Germans.” Reichelt said the Germans would not jeopardize the food deliveries.

  Foulkes warned that the Germans would be held responsible if their forces pillaged, looted, or pilfered any supplies—stressing he was particularly concerned about the Dutch SS stationed in the area. Reichelt said he would prefer the dumps be established in No Man’s Land but “was not averse to the Allied lorries entering the German main defence line and dumping behind their lines so long as the drivers did not leave their vehicles. He would also provide guards with orders to protect the dumps.”30

  Back at his headquarters, Foulkes ordered all units to stand fast while keeping the front fully manned and ready to meet any attack. There would be no fraternization with the Germans, and the troops were to be “informed that this arrangement is still secret and should not be discussed or referred to in any letters. Any breach of security may prejudice the completion of this most important task.”31