by Scott Palter
Over the last few months, many changes had been made in the headquarters of the SS. Now that the repairs were done, walls were being knocked down and new space created. Reichsführer SS Heydrich needed an ever-growing staff, and that staff needed work space. One of the first fruits of those efforts was a waiting area that had been set up so those needing to see the Reichsführer SS or one of his aides had a place to wait. In the just finished but well-appointed waiting room, Hauptmann Schmidt of the Luftwaffe found himself sitting on a comfortable couch. With a brief glance around the room, Schmidt observed other officers from various branches of the Wehrmacht, SS, and civilians. All waiting their turn to speak with the key power in Germany. Attempts to get a meeting with the Führer, even by those of cabinet rank, were met with refusal. Similarly, the two main generals didn’t see people except when they chose to summon them.
Once Schmidt’s letter of introduction made it past the gate-keepers, he was hurried into a meeting with Oberführer Schellenberg, Heydrich’s personal aide. As his name was called, several more senior offers frowned at a mere Hauptmann getting a meeting so quickly. Some of those took note of Schmidt’s face. A man that could so quickly gain access to one so close to Heydrich, was a man to remember.
Schellenberg waved Schmidt to a seat after the required military courtesies were exchanged. The two men had meet very briefly on Malta, after Schellenberg arrived to make a review of the situation and inform Ramcke of his promotion. “From Generalleutnant Ramcke’s letter, you have not only his promised after-action report from the invasion of Malta, but you are available to answer any questions that might arise.”
A brief nod, followed by a folder with many typed pages and several maps. “I can provide an executive summary … ”
“Please, let’s get to the heart of the matter.”
Generalleutnant Ramcke had been most clear on what to say, and in particular that there was to be no attempt at sugar-coating things. “We were lucky.”
Taken aback at those words, Schellenberg wasn’t quite speechless, “Care to elaborate?” It was VERY rare that people in Schmidt’s chair were this honest this soon in the process.
“The report goes on at length, but the key thing that won the day was that the enemy had a near-hopeless situation with our control of the skies, and too few troops versus so many of ours. Despite those advantages, defeat was a very real possibility for us.” Before Schellenberg could try to pry more details out of him, Schmidt raised a hand to forestall the question, “I know you want specifics, but first it must be clear in your mind it could have gone another way. The paradrops had failed to take any airfield, only the NL glider attack succeed. If that had failed, the entire operation might have collapsed.”
“Very well. Your point has been made. What caused the initial paratrooper attacks to fail?” So began a more in-depth review of the chaos that was the conquest of Malta. The poor coordination and not enough transports were already well known, so Schmidt didn’t belabor those points. The details left were the paratroopers missing their drop zones, being scattered all over the island; with some, it was now clear, ending up drowning in the Mediterranean. A worse problem was the firepower of the paratroopers who did land at least near their targets. Most of the Fallschirmjägers’ weapons were dropped, not with them, but in separate weapons containers. Many MG-34 machine-guns and 98K carbines hadn’t been found immediately, some not even until the next morning – forcing the troopers to fight with pistols; or, if they were lucky, MP-38 submachine-guns; or; if very unlucky, knives. The failure to locate the containers with the radios was quickly passed over. Ramcke had already made Berlin aware of THAT problem.
As always, when saying there is a problem, it is good form to give a possible solution. Schellenberg politely asked, “What does the Generalleutnant suggest to resolve this in future airborne missions?”
“We need a weapon that can be dropped with the paratroopers themselves. Also, carrying multiple weapons, both rifles and submachine-guns at the same time, is a problem. If at all possible, a weapon combining the capability of the two types would both simplify the logistics and increase overall firepower.”
Schellenberg finished his own notes while glancing through the formal report from General Ramcke. Trying to figure out how to condense this into reasonable length for Heydrich. “Thank you, Hauptmann Schmidt, I will be sure the Reichsführer SS gets the information. You need an all-purpose battle rifle capable of being dropped as part of the Fallschirmjäger’s personal kit … which will limit weight and length.” Schellenberg made a note to himself to involve the Waffen SS in this project. They, also, needed weapons that they could get without having to fight the Army for them. The SS in Africa were mostly using captured Czech weapons as it was.
0930 hours CET
2 September 1940
Living quarters, Reich Chancellery, Berlin
Führer Herman Göring was lingering over his morning coffee. His wife, and their mutual ‘best friend’ Olga, were asleep back in the bedroom. Normally he would have been as well. They had not gotten to bed until almost dawn, after an all-night reception for party officials from Berlin and Brandenburg. Carousing with the cadres was one of his important functions, as both chief of state and head of the Party. Hitler had maintained a social distance with their predecessors. Göring preferred a different approach. A leader should be socially accessible. The drinking, the singing, the coarse jokes were all part of forming a bond with the minions he relied upon to rule his state. Including wives and girlfriends was part of the process. The hens would cluck together while the men clustered around him, laughing at his jokes. They would also beg favors. Favors that would interfere with Heydrich’s well-run machinery of governance.
Heydrich! The man was an enigma to Göring. He maintained no social circle beyond occasional early morning rides with Admiral Canaris, the head of Abwehr. Other than Schellenberg (who seemed to be Heydrich’s shadow or alter ego), Heydrich had protégés, tools in human form, rather than an entourage of eager sycophants. The man seemed to live for work, and thrive on the boring bureaucratic drivel that made the mechanisms of state function.
The ‘system’ was Heydrich’s office forwarding endless decrees and directives for the Führer to sign, and Göring sending requests for special treatment for a parade of self-seekers in the Movement, the aristocracy, and the other circles of power. Nine times out of ten, Göring’s ‘request’ simply happened. The tenth would get a counter-memo explaining the problems something would cause, usually accompanied by another sweetener Göring could dispense instead. So far there had been two dozen times Göring had insisted – and every time Heydrich had not protested further. So Göring was still in charge, still the Führer … or was he? Were these instances of subordination, just another device by that blond devil Heydrich to keep Göring toiling away on the external formalities of power, while Heydrich really ruled? Göring sipped his cooling coffee and brooded. The infuriating part was, that there was simply no way to tell what the reality was. They jointly ruled, while actually conferring very little and almost never debating policy or even personnel.
Göring had seen seven years of Hitler’s way – a solar system of senior people orbiting the Boss, all backstabbing each other while empire-building. He, Goebbels, Himmler, Bormann, Schacht, Hess, were the inner circle with eight or ten others dancing further out. All maneuvered shamelessly against each other, often resulting in nothing getting done for long periods of time. Other times, the successive contradictory Hitler-decrees produced endless waste and chaos. This new age was something else, but Göring couldn’t find a name for it, didn’t know a template to fit it into.
The truly funny part was that the two senior generals had isolated themselves from real day-to-day power. Their obsession with operational trivia filled their days, while Heydrich drew more and more power away from them. Away from them, but to where instead? Were Beck and Halder a Hindenburg-Ludendorff pair? Was he a mere front for Heydrich, or was Heydrich the tireless p
rop to his, Göring’s, throne? The coffee was by now cold and getting colder. The answer still eluded him.
Chapter 4
1400 hours local; 1300 hours CET
2 September 1940
Headquarters Italo-German Panzer Army, Tobruk, Libya
General Carlo Geloso, de facto commander in place of the absent Prince Umberto, had let his sort-of subordinate, General von Manstein, commander of the German Afrika Korps, finish his presentation. Germany was the decisive partner in the Axis, but with Italy shouldering the main load here in Libya. So command was more a collegial exercise than staff manuals would dictate. Those were his clear instructions from Prince Umberto, and Geloso would execute his orders even when he found them unpleasant.
Present were all three of his Italian corps commanders, plus von Manstein with two of his German divisional commanders. SS General Steiner was absent, as was the bulk of his Afrika division. The eventual arrival of either was a matter of conjecture. Also present was General Jodl; although precisely in what capacity remained unclear. None of his corps was in Libya, nor was it expected anytime soon. Both air forces had junior generals present in a liaison capacity. Geloso made sure he had everyone’s attention, and gave a simple answer to von Manstein – “No.”
Von Manstein was nonplussed. He didn’t like Heydrich’s orders for sending Rommel on what amounted to a raid, but recognized that they were orders, not an opening in a negotiation. “Which part are you rejecting, sir?” Could this Italian not see who held the power here?
“All of it except the date. The order is absurd. I am sure your Reichsführer does not understand why. That’s not his place. Government makes demands, and we military professionals must make reality conform. We have four corps here. Comprising nine Italian and two German divisions, plus considerable support troops. The British have a large corps with two further corps in reserves. So we attack on the required date, and General Rommel is placed in the ordered position, but everything else changes. Currently the British are in an entrenched position centered on Mersa Matruh and Bagush. We have advance posts some kilometers away at Sidi Barrini, with our main forces still back in Libya. We will not advance one German division against a corps. We will advance the entire army. Two Italian corps will advance first, fixing the British position frontally. They will move up the coast road in one column, with a second swinging onto the low plateau to confront the southern end of the Mersa Matruh position. General von Manstein, you will advance with the entire German force, not just Generalmajor Rommel’s division. Your line of advance will be the high plateau south of the British entrenchments. Your advance will be spearheaded by the First Libyan Division and this provisional brigade of Oberst Strauss. The Libyans are experts on this terrain and born to the climate. Your Germans are neither. Your Oberst Strauss will set up an advance base for your corps. I am told he has a vehicle repair unit, and enough infantry to guard your corps trains and support elements. Generalmajor Rommel will be in your lead, to proceed further to develop the British position at Bagush. General Jodl’s forces will follow to mask this position, while Seventh Panzer swings eastwards beyond and tries to find a route north to the coast to complete the encirclement. General Messe’s Italian mobile corps will deploy south of you, covering the desert flank. I will order its further advance, based on the British response to our advance. General Hausser’s SS division will remain in army reserve, to exploit once the British flee. Which they will eventually do. They have a corps digging a line at Alamein. It is where they should be defending. We are lucky they are being fools and making a stand where they are. Questions?”
Rommel jumped up first before anyone else could speak. “I have orders from Berlin for a turning movement to exploit as I see fit. Those are my orders. Specified as saddle orders, which means I am given a force and an objective, then left to accomplish this in a manner I find appropriate. I will appeal any change to Berlin.”
Geloso coolly looked Rommel up and down, letting him stand there in silence. “I’m perfectly willing to send my plan to Berlin first. Do you want the professional risk that General Busse will agree with me? That your rulers will?” He let the pause hang. “There are three professional British divisions in that fortified camp. They are acclimated to the heat, to the terrain, to the local diseases. You have a division of conscripts. They did good service in France … or so I am assured. That was against French conscripts with low morale. You were Reichswehr. You commanded professionals. You know the difference in quality. Even their privates are multiyear veterans. Their battalions have years of working together in harmony. This is not a semi-trained mass of Frogs who before call-up in 1939 had never met each other, much less trained together. The French system was absurd. British regimental soldiering is outdated, but it is sound military sociology. You fight for men you know, men you have trained beside. Keep thinking Reichswehr. The British tactics aren’t as good as those of your interwar Germans, and their field officers are outmoded, but company and below they are the equals of your interwar force. Their second-line troops are a glorified militia, but they are digging positions back at Alamein, or on guard duty in the Egyptian cities. So you will make your raid in the manner of motorized light cavalry. It will do little harm, and might panic their higher command. Motorized armies need supply lines. They burn fuel and ammo. You are aiming for their one highway back to their depots in Alexandria, Cairo, and Suez.”
While Rommel stood there thinking, Geloso turned to Jodl. “Can you run a division? You are an artilleryman and a staff officer. This is actual field command.” Jodl looked determined, not apprehensive, which to Geloso settled that issue. “Von Manstein, can you handle this corps?” Von Manstein simply laughed at him. Command was to him a family tradition. These were clear orders with recognizable objectives. Not exactly the way Berlin had phrased things, but in no ways contradicting Heydrich. Von Manstein could justify this. That left Hausser, clearly unhappy at his role. “Alright, General Hausser, please state your objections.”
“My division is as good as General Rommel’s.”
“I quite agree. Berlin Command made Rommel the advance guard. A command in Berlin headed by your service, the SS, not the Army. So feel free to protest there. However, an exploitation force is needed. One German division exists only in bits and pieces. That leaves two. Your Reichsführer specified one as this flanking force. Myself, I’d have used Messe and my Libyans. Troops acclimated to the theater and capable of navigating these waste lands. Berlin wanted the glory for a German force. They chose Rommel. I need a good mobile division to exploit. The big danger in this battle is not that we lose. Almost no way that can happen. We have numbers, firepower, and complete air superiority. The quite possible bad result is we inflict only a bloody nose followed by the British corps getting away intact back to their fortified position at Alamein. Our losses are less relevant than whether we bag any – or all – of these divisions. You Germans have far more experience at successful mobile battle than my Italians.” Left unsaid, was that the German vehicles and equipment were also much more modern. This was starting to be addressed with the new production cartels, but those changes would not arrive in time for the Egyptian Campaign. “This sort of fluid warfare is what the Reichswehr trained for. I will make clear to Berlin that this is your main goal. You and Rommel. Jodl doesn’t have real mobile troops and cannot be expected to keep up. Messe will cooperate as he can, but I will rely on you. Rommel will have position but be spread out. You will have the mass for a good clean punch.” Geloso gave the subordinates a full minute to absorb all this, then dismissed them. Undoubtably they would complain to Berlin. So what? This plan had a good chance of working. If Rome wanted a diplomat, they should have chosen someone else.
2100 hours CET
2 September 1940
Commandant’s Office, Pawiak Prison, Warsaw, General Government (Occupied Poland)
SS Gruppenführer Theodor Eicke was never a man of calm temperament. His demotion from combat division commander to police
functionary, was not calculated to bring out his better side. Eicke had been forced to see his Death’s Head division stripped of its heavy weapons, and near to half its men, by officers acting on behalf of that Reichswehr renegade Hausser. Hausser had only become National Socialist by decree when the Stahlhelm had been forcibly amalgamated with the SA. Eicke had been a Movement purist, a True Believer, back to the glory days of the early 1920’s. Now here was Heydrich, a late joiner as well, demoting him over a petty matter of shooting a few British swine. Dietrich’s LAH had done the same, and he was rewarded with the expansion of his regiment into a full guards division. It was all personalities and factionalism. Eicke had been a favorite of Himmler’s, and now he was being punished for his loyalties to the SS’s creator. Supposedly Himmler had turned on Hitler. Eicke didn’t believe it for a minute. Göring and Heydrich were the plotters, the traitors. They were in league with the reactionaries of the officer corps against the true National Socialists such as himself.
The Death’s Head division was now a field security corps of four regiments. The ranks had been built up with part-Germans from Poland and the Baltic States, instead of good Reichs Germans from the camp guards corps. The guards were Eicke’s former command, and its cadres were loyal to him. So of course he was denied them.
Eicke himself reported to Gestapo Müller as head of the General Government. Müller ruled from Cracow. Eicke was left to serve in Warsaw. Even there he was not head of all police. The Polish Blue Police had a separate chain of command, under Müller. The Jewish labor camps were under this clown Eichmann, on direct report to Heydrich. Eicke and the Polish Blues had been forced to cooperate, ghettoizing Warsaw’s Jews, after which Eichmann took charge of them. Camps for Poles, such as Auschwitz, were still another bureaucracy reporting back to Berlin via the offices he, Eicke, had created for Himmler in the mid 30’s.