by Mark Felton
Chapter 8
Enemies Within
‘Hitler is the arch enemy not only of Germany but of the world. . .A man’s moral worth is established only at the point where he is ready to give his life in defence of his convictions.’
Generalmajor Henning von Treskow, 1944
His back ramrod straight, Rudolf von Gersdorff raised his right hand in the Nazi salute as Hitler entered the large covered courtyard. Outside, the thunder of applause still hung in the air from Hitler’s rousing and defiant speech to the assembled party faithful. Gersdorff looked at Hitler, careful to keep his face blank, as the Führer approached him. Hitler, who was slightly stooped by this stage of the war, was dressed in his customary field grey jacket and black trousers, his valet Heinz Linge just a step behind him carrying Hitler’s grey and brown cap. Flanking the Führer were several tough-looking RSD bodyguards in grey SS officers uniforms, their gloved hands never straying far from their pistol holsters. Gersdorff’s right hand remained in its rigid ‘German greeting’ while his left hand quickly and surreptitiously reached into his tunic pocket.1 He set the fuse to the bomb that he was carrying and spoke: ‘Heil, mein Führer!’ Hitler barely acknowledged him, just slightly raising his own right hand in a perfunctory salute. Gersdorff smiled inwardly – in just a few minutes this monster would be dead and Germany would be saved.2
Resistance to Hitler was, by 1943, centred on two interlinked groups. The first was a group of civilians and former military officers led by Dr Carl Goerdeler, former Reich Price Commissar who had fallen out with Hitler, and Generaloberst Ludwig Beck, the former Army Chief of Staff who had been removed from his post by Hitler in 1938. Others in this influential group included Ulrich von Hassell, the former German Ambassador to Italy, Johannes Popitz, Prussian Finance Minister under Göring, and Jens Jessen, a former Nazi and professor of politics and economics in Berlin. But to get rid of Hitler these older men came to rely upon a group of younger, mostly aristocratic patriots.
The second group was labelled the ‘Kreisau Circle’ by the Gestapo and included Helmuth James Count von Moltke, an admirer of Britain and a descendant of Bismarck’s famous chief of staff; Peter, Count Yorck von Wartenburg, a lawyer; Adam von Trott zu Solz, a former Oxford Rhodes Scholar, as well as an increasing number of serving army officers centred on Army Group Centre on the Eastern Front. The liaison between the military and civilian opposition to Hitler was Fritz-Dietlof, Count von der Schulenburg, a lawyer and former high-ranking Nazi official.
Like Caesar, enemies surrounded Hitler. Many of the men who regularly visited the Berghof or the Wolf’s Lair were either active members of the German Resistance or at the very least sympathetic to their cause and were all part of a vast and somewhat disorganised plan to induce Hitler’s demise and to end the war before Germany was completely destroyed and occupied by the Allies.
Some of the senior plotters among Hitler’s army staff included 57-year-old General der Nachrichtentruppe Fritz Fellgiebel. Although Hitler did not fully trust the bespectacled Fellgiebel, he needed him nonetheless for his expertise. Appointed head of Hitler’s signals unit, Fellgiebel had introduced the revolutionary Enigma encryption machine to the Wehrmacht and he was privy to every military secret of the Reich including the top secret V weapons programme at Peenemünde. What Hitler did not know was that Fellgiebel had been an active plotter against him since 1938, when he watched his friend and superior Generaloberst Beck, Chief of the German General Staff, resign following his increasingly rancorous and vocal stand against Hitler’s belligerent foreign policy. Fellgiebel then became friends with Beck’s successor, Generaloberst Franz Halder. Fellgiebel would play a major role in the attack at Rastenburg on 20 July 1944 as he was in charge of Hitler’s communications with the outside world.
General der Artillerie Eduard Wagner, 50-year-old Quartermaster General and Deputy Chief of the General Staff of the Army was another senior Wehrmacht officer who was in regular proximity to Hitler. On the face of it Wagner was the last person one would suspect of harbouring a death wish against his Führer. In July 1939 he had drawn up orders giving permission for the Wehrmacht to take and execute civilian hostages during wartime. He had vocally supported the invasion of Poland and most disturbingly had involved the army officially in the murder of the Jews when in May 1941, shortly before the invasion of the Soviet Union, Wagner had encouraged army units to cooperate with the SS Einsatzgruppen murder squads. But at some point Wagner had changed his mind about Hitler and had become an active plotter in the resistance movement.
It is easy to assume that those army officers who stood against Hitler were white knights, but many had blood on their hands from Germany’s brutal campaigns in the East. They were motivated by different reasons. There were some, particularly younger officers who had served in the field, who were appalled by the massacres perpetrated against defenceless civilians by the SS and others. They viewed such criminal behaviour as impugning the good name of the German people and the armed forces. But others were motivated by fear that Hitler would lose the war, ushering in Soviet occupation and the destruction of the German Army and their own privileged status at the top of German society. Others still were men of deep religious faith who saw Hitler as the anti-Christ. So while some were genuine white knights, some inhabited shades of grey, and in the case of Wagner would have faced trial for war crimes had he survived the war. Collectively, these men represented Germany’s last hope of avoiding utter destruction and occupation.
Other plotters with regular access to Hitler were Generalmajor Helmuth Stieff, Chief of Organisation at OKH, 56-year-old Admiral Wilhelm Canaris of the Abwehr, and even Generalfeldmarschall Erwin Rommel, Germany’s most celebrated general and ironically the man who had been responsible for Hitler’s security during the Polish Campaign. Canaris had been in contact with Britain’s MI6 since 1938 and had already been involved in two failed plots to topple Hitler. He had been outraged on learning of SS atrocities in Poland and the Soviet Union and secretly kept detailed records on Nazi crimes.
With the debacle of Stalingrad in early 1943 finally revealing Hitler’s military incompetence, as well as his evident willingness to sacrifice hundreds of thousands of German soldiers in a needless battle, the mood in Germany was both depressed and shocked. It was probably the best time to launch a coup against the Nazi government. ‘A successful undertaking at that time might, despite the recently announced “Unconditional Surrender” strategy of the Allies, have stood a chance of splitting them,’ notes Sir Ian Kershaw. ‘The removal of the Nazi leadership and offer of capitulation in the west . . . would at any rate have placed the western Allies in a quandary about whether to respond to peace-feelers.’3
But the plotters had much to lose, and although they schemed and encouraged, they were unlikely to raise a hand personally against Hitler. Any attempt on the Führer’s life would have been suicidal, and such self-sacrificial behaviour was left to more hotheaded junior officers. This posed a serious problem for the resistance, for, as the war continued, Hitler’s security began to limit the numbers and the ranks of the officers who could be in his presence, perhaps sensing a latent threat from particular groups.
No officer was permitted to wear his service firearm in the Führer’s presence. Officers visiting the Berghof and Wolf’s Lair left their pistol belts on racks along with their uniform caps before entering the conference area. This ensured that no officer, from field marshal to second lieutenant, had the tool necessary to dispose of his commander-in-chief. Hitler’s SS valets, who always wore holstered automatic pistols, carried the only weapons permitted close to the Führer’s person. These men were absolutely loyal to Hitler, owing their position and advancement to him alone.
None of the plots against Hitler ever originated from the RSD, SS-Begleitkommando or the Wehrmacht’s FBB. Hitler’s valets received regular target practice sessions with the RSD. Although the valets, cooks and bodyguards that served Hitler were the best placed to kill him, none ever attempted it. The
motivation was simply not there. Hitler made sure that his servants were well looked after. When they married he sent substantial personal wedding gifts. At Christmas he was generous to both the men and to their families. On his birthday Hitler would invite all of his servants along with their spouses and children to take coffee and cake with him. Hitler talked to everyone, making even the lowliest servant feel appreciated. ‘He cultivated their loyalty and love.’4 He was, in many respects, an ideal boss.
The real threat to Hitler came instead from the Kreisau Circle, who felt, particularly after the debacle at Stalingrad, that the Führer was a liability who was leading Germany towards complete destruction. Amongst these ‘vons’, as Hitler derisively termed his largely Prussian military officer class, was a hard core of younger officers who were determined to rid Germany of the beloved Führer by the most direct method available – assassination. As several of these plotters had regular access to Hitler and his military headquarters and residences, one of the first attempts was made at the Berghof.
The man who volunteered to kill Hitler inside his own private house was a 33-year-old cavalry officer, Rittmeister Eberhard von Breitenbuch. He had originally served as an aide from August 1942 on the staff of Generalfeldmarschall Gunther von Kluge, commander of Army Group Centre on the Eastern Front. The famous attempt to blow up Hitler’s plane (recounted in Chapter 5) while it was airborne over the Soviet Union on 13 March 1943 had been preceded by some other assassination plans hatched from within Army Group Centre. Von Kluge was fully aware of what many of his subordinate officers were up to, led by his own Operations Officer, Generalmajor Henning von Treskow. Hitler visited Smolensk to discuss the forthcoming offensive at Kursk with Kluge and other army commanders. Hitler was, in effect, unknowingly entering the belly of the beast when he entered Army Group Centre. It was probably the most dangerous location that the Führer visited, where he would find himself surrounded by dozens of officers who would not have thought twice about putting a bullet between his eyes. As we have seen, one officer did object to such a move – von Kluge. The original plan had been to shoot Hitler dead while he was taking luncheon with the headquarters officers. When Kluge was informed of this plan he was outraged: ‘One could not just shoot the man at his meal.’5 Also Kluge and other senior officers were afraid of getting caught in the crossfire during the inevitable shoot out with Hitler’s SS bodyguards; and the conspirators were averse to risking their commanding general’s life, as he would be needed in the post-Nazi government.
An alternative plan was to ambush and kill Hitler as he walked the half-kilometre from his car to the dining hut. As related, Oberstleutnant von Boeselager, commanding Cavalry Regiment Centre, had found enough officers and NCOs who were willing to do this. But this plan also came to naught after Hitler refused to follow the assigned paths. Eventually, Treskow had decided upon a bomb aboard Hitler’s Condor, a brilliant idea that ultimately also failed.
After von Kluge was injured in a car crash in October, Rittmeister von Breitenbuch became aide to Generalfeldmarschall Ernst Busch of Army Group B. His job meant that Breitenbuch accompanied Busch to all military conferences at Führer Headquarters, giving him unfettered access to both the Berghof and the Wolf’s Lair. Breitenbuch had now become Treskow’s new and best hope for disposing of Hitler.
Breitenbuch had been in contact with the shadowy conspiracy against Hitler for some years. He had decided to throw in his lot with them and move to direct action in 1942 after he had witnessed ‘anti-partisan actions’ conducted by German forces in the forests of eastern Poland, where thousands of civilians had been brutally rounded up and shot. ‘What I had previously suspected [of the Nazi regime] I now knew for sure,’6 he said later. Breitenbuch had contacted the then Oberst von Treskow, one of the central anti-Hitler plotters, and told him that he would have access to the Berghof when he accompanied Busch to meetings there. Treskow immediately supplied him with British-made plastic explosive in the hope that Breitenbuch would be able to plant a bomb near Hitler, but the younger officer demurred in favour of a pistol. Breitenbuch distrusted the explosive’s reliability and preferred to try and smuggle an automatic pistol into Hitler’s presence and at some point during a meeting shoot the dictator through the head. Naturally, Breitenbuch was outlining a suicide mission, for he would have been shot down by Hitler’s bodyguards seconds after drawing his weapon. The pistol Breitenbuch selected for the task was a 7.65mm Browning, and this was hidden in his trouser pocket. Fortunately for all concerned, RSD personnel were not frisking visitors to Führer Headquarters at this time.
On 11 March 1943 Busch’s party arrived by Condor plane at Salzburg Airport, the main airfield for visitors to the Obersalzberg. The party was then driven to the Berghof by car. On entering the Führer’s residence all of the officers removed their caps, belts and sidearms in the presence of the ever-vigilant RSD. Breitenbuch had earlier removed his watch and wedding ring to be sent to his wife. The Browning, loaded and already cocked, and with the safety catch off, felt heavy in his trouser pocket. He was almost sick with nerves, struggling to maintain his composure in front of the SS and senior Nazis. ‘My heart was beating in my throat as it was clear to me that, within half an hour, I would be dead,’7 he said.
A joking Reichsmarschall Hermann Göring went through to the conference room followed by Generalfeldmarschall Wilhelm Keitel, General-oberst Alfred Jodl and the limping Reichsminister Dr Goebbels. Busch’s party followed on behind but was suddenly stopped by RSD officers. Busch was informed that no aides would be admitted to the room. Breitenbuch was forced to ‘endure Busch’s vain and unwitting attempts to negotiate his entry, and was finally turned away, still with the pistol . . . in his pocket.’8 Standing on the sun terrace with another dismissed aide, nervously smoking, Breitenbuch felt ill from the stress and the anti-climax. He never again volunteered for a mission against Hitler and survived the mass arrests and executions that followed the 20 July 1944 bomb plot.
To kill Hitler was a virtual suicide mission, but Breitenbuch was not the only young patriot to step forward and volunteer to do the unthinkable. One such officer summed up the feeling among the German Resistance: ‘Since the generals have up to now managed nothing, the colonels have now to step in.’9
One such colonel was Oberst Rudolf Christoph Baron von Gersdorff who said to von Treskow a few days after Breitenbuch’s failed attempt on Hitler’s life: ‘It must be done. This is our only chance . . . Hitler must be cut down like a rabid dog.’10 Gersdorff, Head of the Staff Section at Army Group Centre had just volunteered to become a suicide bomber.
Gersdorff volunteered to kill Hitler when he discovered that he had been selected to act as a tour guide while the Führer perused captured Soviet weaponry at the Zeughaus, the old Berlin Arsenal, on the Unter den Linden. It was part of the celebrations for Heroes Memorial Day. Gersdorff believed that he had a real chance at killing Hitler because he would be close to him for about thirty minutes. He ruled out using a pistol, as he believed the security would be too tight at the event and that Hitler’s RSD bodyguards would shoot him down before he had a chance to take proper aim. It was also suspected by the plotters that Hitler routinely wore a bulletproof vest underneath his tunic.11 Gersdorff first decided to blow Hitler up by planting a bomb in the speaker’s rostrum shortly before he arrived to deliver his annual speech.
Gersdorff flew to Berlin on 20 March with Generalfeldmarschall Walther Model, Commander-in-Chief of the Ninth Army, who would also be attending the ceremony. He carried two Clam Mines, small but powerful British explosive devices about the same size and thickness as a paperback book. Treskow had given these to him after he had retrieved them following the failed attempt on Hitler’s plane.
Gersdorff carried out a quiet and unobtrusive reconnaissance of the Zeughaus on the afternoon of 20 March and soon realised that planting a bomb was out of the question. Wherever Hitler would walk, stand or sit was carefully guarded or watched, so Gersdorff rejected any notion of a Georg Elser-style a
ttack on the Führer. Instead, Gersdorff decided upon a radical course of action. He would conceal one of the clam mines in his pocket. As soon as Hitler entered the glass-covered Zeughaus courtyard where the exhibition of weaponry had been set up, Gersdorff would start the timer. He would then stand as close to Hitler as possible and die in the resulting explosion, hopefully taking Hitler with him.
Gersdorff faced several significant problems. Firstly, he had no idea of Hitler’s security and guarding arrangements and whether he would be permitted to stand close enough to Hitler for the bomb to be lethally effective. He had noticed that the covered inner courtyard where the display was to be held was huge and airy – any detonation by a small bomb would be quickly dispersed. Secondly, and most importantly, he could not find a sufficiently short fuse; the best he could manage was one of ten minutes. This meant that Gersdorff would have to closely shadow the Führer to keep him in range of the bomb blast. Would the RSD permit an officer to trail along behind Hitler after the Führer had moved on from Gersdorff’s section of the exhibit? It appeared unlikely, so Gersdorff resolved to try and engage Hitler in conversation whilst demonstrating the Soviet weapons, and try to keep him close while the fuse counted down to destruction.