To Lose a Battle (26 page)

On examining the O.K.H.’s ‘Deployment Directive Yellow’ of 19 October, Manstein’s instant reaction was that, at best, it could only lead to a partial success. Unlike General von Leeb, he was not deeply concerned by the fate of Belgium, but he did believe that if Germany were to breach her neutrality for a second time in a generation, this was worth doing only if it aimed at a totally
decisive
victory. Accordingly, he sat down to draft the first of six memoranda to the O.K.H. In it he expressed the view that success of the whole operation would lie in ‘defeating and
annihilating
the
whole
of the enemy forces fighting in Belgium, or north of the Somme, and not only throwing them back frontally’. With this aim, the
Schwerpunkt
of the offensive must be shifted farther to the south, with its axis running from Namur through a line Arras–Boulogne, so that the Allied wing in Belgium would not simply be rolled back to the Somme, ‘but cut off on the Somme’. At the same time, the left flank of the German thrust must be strong enough to ward off any powerful French counter-thrust coming up at it from the south-west.
¹²
Manstein concluded that he did not expect the Allies to ‘make the mistake of throwing too strong forces into Belgium on their northern flank’ (which in fact, as has already been seen, was precisely the direction in which Gamelin’s plans were heading); but if they did, the prospects for Germany of a ‘great success’ would be just that much better.

In its initial shape, the ‘Manstein Plan’ still allocated the
Schwerpunkt
to Bock’s rival Army Group ‘B’ in the north. It gave no specific details as to the employment of the Panzers; it offered no comment on the timing of the offensive; nor did it mention the magic names of Sedan or the Ardennes, as did Hitler’s ‘new idea’ of 30 October. On the other hand, Manstein was putting forward a much more precise formula. And, in his proposition to ‘cut off’ the northern wing of the Allied
armies on the Somme, here was a scheme far more ambitious than anything that had yet emerged from the mind of Hitler himself.

Rundstedt entirely supported the thinking of his Chief of Staff, and on 31 October (by sheer coincidence, only a day after Hitler had voiced his ‘new idea’ to Jodl) the memorandum was dispatched to the O.K.H. bearing his signature. Four days later, a visit to Rundstedt’s H.Q. by Brauchitsch gave Manstein the opportunity to discuss his plan in person. Brauchitsch refused to countenance any alteration to the existing directive; finally, however, he did let himself be coaxed into promising to Army Group ‘A’ in the south the 2nd Panzer Division and two motorized regiments. Here began the progressive escalation of Army Group ‘A’ at the expense of ‘B’ (Bock).
¹³
But Brauchitsch was not to be impressed by Manstein’s fears of a French threat to his left flank. ‘Every Army Group’, commented Halder trenchantly, ‘expects the maximum of enemy counter-measures on its own front’, and doubtless Manstein’s proposals struck the O.K.H. at first as simply a subordinate formation advancing its own parochial interest. In any case, they were sat upon at Zossen and not passed on to the O.K.W. or Hitler, nor were the new orientations in Hitler’s thoughts relayed to Army Group ‘A’.

Meanwhile, the Führer was still pursuing his ‘new idea’ of 30 October. On 11 November, after the second postponement of the offensive, the O.K.H. notified Army Groups ‘A’ and ‘B’ that Hitler had ordered a third group of fast-moving troops to be formed on ‘A’s’ southern flank, heading for Sedan. This would be composed of Guderian’s XIX Corps, consisting of two Panzer and one motorized divisions. Bock at once expressed dissatisfaction at this further erosion of Army Group ‘B’, but still the function of the Sedan thrust was regarded as purely secondary, designed to ‘ease’ the task of Army Group
‘A’ (which in itself remained subordinate to that of ‘B’). Guderian, the Panzer expert, who now enters the act for the first time, was asked for his opinion and declared that the forces for an advance on Sedan via Arlon were quite inadequate. On the 13th, and again on the 16th, bad weather, combined with the continued reluctance of the O.K.H. (which was undoubtedly having its effect even on Hitler), once more postponed the offensive, on the latter occasion to 26 November. On 21 November another visit to Koblenz by Brauchitsch (accompanied by Halder) permitted Manstein to deliver a second memorandum. Again, however, the O.K.H. leaders granted it no serious discussion. At this time they had still cherished hopes that Hitler would abandon all ideas of an offensive in the West, and the injection of Manstein’s views into the existing plan could only lend grist to Hitler’s mill. But at the same time, there was also undoubtedly an element of professional jealousy involved in Brauchitsch’s and Halder’s refusal to allow their subordinate generals direct access to the Führer. Relations between Brauchitsch and Rundstedt were never noticeably good, while the cautious Halder clearly evinced resentment towards the daring genius of Manstein.

Hitler Berates His Generals

Two days later, an extraordinary gathering took place in the Chancellery. By now thoroughly exasperated at the O.K.H.’s opposition to his designs, Hitler summoned together all his top Wehrmacht leaders down to corps commanders and their equivalent ranks in the Luftwaffe and Navy – totalling over 180 – and, treating them like so many small boys, delivered a scarifying lecture. He began with the reminder that without the Nazi Party, the rebuilding of the Wehrmacht (through which, he did not need to point out, those present enjoyed their present distinction) could never have taken place. Although he had always been surrounded by more ‘doubters’ than ‘believers’, his policy of annexations had paid off; now, for the first time in sixty-seven years, while the successors of Bismarck may have missed their cues, he, Hitler, had ensured that Germany
would not have to fight on more than one front. He was determined to launch a crushing offensive on this one front, and ‘anyone who thinks otherwise is irresponsible’. Now, the moment was favourable; in six months’ time it might not be. Waving aside the question of Belgian and Dutch neutrality, he declared that ‘nobody would question this if Germany were victorious’. As for Britain, she would be brought to her knees by U-boat and mine warfare (details unspecified).

Turning the heat on the Army leaders, Hitler all but accused them of cowardice;
he
had not created the Wehrmacht in order not to fight. He condemned obsolete notions of chivalry, and warned that anyone who opposed his will would be ‘annihilated’. With a reference to Brauchitsch’s luckless intervention of 5 November, he declared that he was ‘infuriated’ by any suggestion that ‘his’ troops had been ‘inadequate’ in Poland. ‘Everything depends on the military leaders. With the German soldier I can do anything, provided he is well led.’ Hitler ended his homily with a call for total determination: ‘If we emerge from this struggle as victors – and we shall be victors! – then our epoch will enter into the history of our people. As for me’, he added prophetically, ‘I shall stand or fall in this struggle. I shall not survive the defeat of my people. No surrender abroad! No revolution at home!’

The generals filed away, shattered by this tirade. Brauchitsch tendered his resignation. Hitler rejected it, saying that Brauchitsch had his duty to fulfil, like every simple soldier. Later Guderian, detailed by Reichenau, one of the most steadfast of the pro-Hitler generals, went to see Hitler and voiced the ‘indignation’ the Army commanders felt at their leader’s distrust. Hitler replied that he was principally getting at the C.-in-C. of the Army. In that case, said Guderian with some audacity, Brauchitsch should be replaced, and he went on to name some possible successors. But Hitler approved of none of these, and the interview ended inconclusively. The net effect of Hitler’s taunting insults upon the generals, however, was largely to galvanize them into much more enthusiastic support of the Führer. ‘The reproach of cowardice turned the brave into
cowards,’ scathingly remarked Colonel Hans Oster, a dedicated member of the military ‘resistance’. From now on the O.K.H.’s opposition to
Gelb
waned steadily, while at the same time its past hesitancy had made its mark on Hitler, who now seemed rather less determined upon a winter offensive than he had been in October – despite his exhortations of 23 November. The only one of the three main participants in the
Gelb
plan who remained obdurate was Manstein.

In the latter half of November, Manstein invited Guderian to visit him at Koblenz, where he questioned the Panzer expert as to whether it would be technically feasible to push heavy armoured forces across the Ardennes, towards Sedan. Guderian, who knew the area from the First War, reassured Manstein, but with one proviso. The Panzer divisions deployed there must be made as strong as possible. This was an important conversation, in so far as Manstein was first and foremost an infantryman and had hitherto given little precise thought as to the use of Panzers;
¹⁴
nevertheless, as late as 18 December, he shows himself still thinking in terms of allocating seven Panzer divisions to Army Group ‘B’ and only three
¹⁵
to ‘A’, crossing the Meuse south of Dinant. On 30 November, a third memorandum from Manstein now forced Halder to pass, for the first time, some written judgement. It was noncommittal and evasive, saying that the O.K.H. did not want to decide upon where the critical
Schwerpunkt
should lie until the first encounter with the enemy. Manstein promptly followed up with two more memoranda during December. His fourth, dated 6 December, for the first time came down categorically in favour of the
Schwerpunkt
being located on the southern flank of the attack, i.e. with Army Group ‘A’, heading for the mouth of the Somme. By this time Halder had had enough and decided to transfer Manstein (already previously earmarked to command a corps) to Stettin in the east, about as far away from Army Group ‘A’ and the Western Front as possible!

Gelb Postponed

During December, the vile conditions of snow, ice and fog which were demoralizing the French Army caused four more postponements of
Gelb.
No new strategic alterations to the plan were proposed by either the O.K.H. or Hitler, who was still kept unaware of Manstein’s ideas. On the 28th, Hitler told Jodl that if the weather continued bad by mid-January, he would call off the offensive, perhaps until the spring. Nevertheless, on 10 January, after a period of bright, clear skies had been predicted, D-Day was finally fixed for Wednesday the 17th, at dawn. The troops began to roll, over sixty divisions strong, towards the Dutch and Belgian frontiers, the weight of both armour and infantry still preponderantly with Bock’s Army Group ‘B’ in the north. Then, that same day, the two Luftwaffe majors made their forced landing at Mechelen. At 11.45 a.m. on the 11th, Jodl braced himself to inform Hitler. Hitler flew into a terrible rage. Threats of death sentences for the flyers were uttered; the Gestapo was dispatched to interrogate their wives; General Felmy, commanding the Second Air Fleet to which Reinberger and Hoenmanns both belonged, was sacked, and replaced by Kesselring.
¹⁶
The German Military Attaché in The Hague, Lieutenant-General Wenniger, rushed down to interview the interned majors and find out just how much information the Belgians might have gleaned. Jodl wrote nervously in his diary: ‘If the enemy is in possession of all the files the situation is catastrophic.’ On the afternoon of the 12th, Wenniger wired Berlin: ‘Reinberger declares post burned. Remains of little importance…’
¹⁷
In fact, the half-burned papers from Reinberger’s briefcase did betray scarcely more than the bare outlines of the operation, but the Germans could never be quite sure. For one more day Hitler refused to abandon the attack. Then, yet again, the weather broke, causing
another three postponements. By the 16th, alarming reports were coming in about the extent of Dutch and Belgian mobilization. At last Hitler took a major decision. That afternoon he ordered an indefinite postponement of
Gelb.
The whole operation must be replanned ‘on a new basis, to be founded particularly on secrecy and surprise’. This new act of Chance finally saved Hitler from what might have been the grave blunder of a premature offensive and led him conclusively towards his finest hour.
¹⁸

For the Germans, the Mechelen Incident proved to be pure gain. First of all, the High Command could now re-examine its strategy at leisure, and try out variations on the ground by means of ‘war games’. Secondly, Hitler’s new priorities of ‘secrecy and surprise’ lent added importance to the speed with which the all-out blow should be struck. At a meeting in the Chancellery on 20 January, it was agreed to abandon the previous build-up of several days; instead, all units would have to be ready to attack with twenty-four hours’ warning or less. Thirdly, the enemy reaction to the mid-January alarm now gave the O.K.H. Intelligence ‘Foreign Armies West’,
¹⁹
an excellent idea of the Allies’ order of battle and their intentions, which it did not possess before. As the French and British units rushed up to take their positions on the Belgian frontier in the middle of January, they made it clear to the Germans that, under Gamelin’s Dyle Plan, the cream of both armies was designated to be pushed into northern Belgium; while, lower down, the weakness of General Corap’s Ninth Army on the Meuse became increasingly apparent. Thus, as knowledge of the Franco-British dispositions made the prospects of a frontal collision less and less attractive, so Manstein’s alternative, that would in effect close a trap behind the élite of the enemy forces,
obviously gained in appeal. Finally, it was of course the Mechelen Incident’s revelation of apparent German intentions towards Holland that committed Gamelin, disastrously, to his project of strengthening his northern wing still further by the ‘Breda Variant’, thus adding his best reserves to the ‘bag’ that Manstein was proposing to cut off on the Somme.