History of the Second World War (110 page)

But the first wave achieved astounding success — even more than had been expected. Some forty jeeps got through, and got busy on their confusion-spreading task — and all save eight came back safely. The few that fell into American hands caused the most trouble — by immediately creating the impression that many such sabotage bands were roving about behind the American front. One result was to cause an immense hold-up of traffic in the search for them, and hundreds of American soldiers who failed to satisfy questioners were arrested. Bradley himself says:

. . . a half-million GI’s played cat and mouse with each other each time they met on the road. Neither rank nor credentials nor protests spared the traveler an inquisition at each intersection he passed. Three times I was ordered to prove my identity by cautious GI’s. The first time by identifying Springfield as the capital of Illinois (my questioner held out for Chicago); the second time by locating the guard between the center and tackle on a line of scrimmage; the third time by naming the then current spouse of a blonde named Betty Grable. Grable stopped me but the sentry did not. Pleased at having stumped me, he nevertheless passed me on.*

* Bradley:
A Soldier’s Story,
pp. 467-9.

It was harder still for British liaison officers and visiting staff officers who did not know the right answer to such test-questions.

Then on the 19th one of the captured raiders said, when interrogated, that some of the jeep-parties had the mission of killing Eisenhower and other high commanders. It was an unfounded rumour that had circulated in the raiders’ training camp before they were told their actual task. But now, when passed on to the Allied headquarters, it produced a security-service panic that spread the network of paralysing precautions right back to Paris — and kept it clamped on for ten days.

Eisenhower’s naval aide, Captain Butcher, has a diary note on the 23rd:

I went out to Versailles and saw Ike today. He is a prisoner of our security police and is thoroughly but helplessly irritated by the restriction on his moves. There are all sorts of guards, some with machine guns, around the house, and he has to travel to and from the office led and at times followed by an armed guard in a jeep.†

† Butcher:
My Three Years with Eisenhower,
pp. 727-9.

Fortunately the Germans also suffered heavily from self-inflicted difficulties, as well as from overstretched resources in straining to fulfil Hitler’s excessively ambitious aims. For in the large-scale planning his imagination ran away with him.

The project was well summarised by Manteuffel‡:

‡ Soon after the war ended I was able to interrogate a number of the leading German commanders, and discuss operations in detail with them on the map; where suitable I am utilising striking passages from their accounts, after checking these with other later evidence.

The plan for the Ardennes offensive was drawn up completely by O.K.W. [Hitler’s H.Q.] and sent to us as a cut and dried ‘Fuhrer order’. The object defined was to achieve a decisive victory in the West by throwing in two panzer armies — the 6th under Dietrich, and the 5th under me. The 6th was to strike north-west, cross the Meuse between Liege and Huy, and drive for Antwerp. It had the main role, and main strength. My army was to advance along a more curving line, cross the Meuse between Namur and Dinant, and push towards Brussels — to cover the flank. . . . The aim of the whole offensive was, by cutting off the British Army from its bases of supply, to force it to evacuate the Continent.*

* Liddell Hart:
The Other Side of the Hill,
p. 446-7.

Hitler imagined that if he produced this second Dunkirk, Britain would virtually drop out of the war, and he would have breathing space to hold up the Russians and produce a stalemate in the East.

The plan was presented to Rundstedt, and the executive Army Group Commander, Field-Marshal Model, at the end of October. Describing his reactions, Rundstedt said:

I was staggered. Hitler had not consulted me about its possibilities. It was obvious to me that the available forces were far too small for such an extremely ambitious plan. Model took the same view of it as I did. In fact, no soldier believed that the aim of reaching Antwerp was really practicable. But I knew by now it was useless to protest to Hitler about the
possibility
of anything. After consultation with Model and Manteuffel I felt that the only hope was to wean Hitler from this fantastic aim by putting forward an alternative proposal that might appeal to him, and would be more practicable. This was for a limited offensive with the aim of pinching off the Allies’ salient around Aachen.†

†
ibid.,
p. 447.

But Hitler rejected this more modest plan, and insisted on the original design. Preparations were as stealthy as possible. Manteuffel said:

All the divisions of my own 5th Panzer Army were assembled, but kept widely spaced, between Trier and Krefeld — so that spies and the civil population should have no inkling of what was intended. The troops were told that they were being got ready to meet the coming Allied attack on Cologne. Only a very limited number of staff officers were informed of the actual plan.‡

‡
ibid.,
p. 449.

The 6th Panzer Army was assembled still farther back, in the area between Hanover and the Weser. Its divisions had been drawn out of the line to recuperate and be re-equipped. Curiously Sepp Dietrich was not informed of the task that was intended for him, nor consulted about the plan he would have to carry out, until much closer to the event. Most of the divisional commanders had only a few days’ notice. In the case of Manteuffel’s 5th Panzer Army, the move down to the starting line was made in three nights.

This strategic camouflage helped surprise, but a heavy price was paid for the extreme internal secrecy — particularly in the case of the 6th Panzer Army. Commanders who were informed so late had too little time to study their problem, reconnoitre the ground, and make their preparations. As a result many things were overlooked, and numerous hitches occurred when the attack began. Hitler had worked out the plan at his headquarters in detail, with Jodl, and seemed to think that this would suffice for its fulfilment. He paid no attention to local conditions or to the individual problems of his executants. He was equally optimistic about the needs of the forces engaged.

Rundstedt remarked: ‘There were no adequate reinforcements, nor supplies of ammunition, and although the number of armoured divisions was high, their strength in tanks was low — it was largely paper strength.’* The worst deficiency of all was motor fuel. Manteuffel said:

Jodl had assured us there would be sufficient petrol to develop our full strength and carry our drive through. This assurance proved completely mistaken. Part of the trouble was that O.K.W. worked on a mathematical and stereotyped calculation of the amount of petrol required to move a division for a hundred kilometres. My experience in Russia had taught me that double this scale was really needed under battlefield conditions. Jodl didn’t understand this.

Taking account of the extra difficulties likely to be met in a winter battle in such difficult country as the Ardennes, I told Hitler personally that five times the standard scale of petrol [fuel] supply ought to be provided. Actually, when the offensive was launched, only one and a half times the standard scale had been provided. Worse still, much of it was kept too far back, in large lorry columns on the east bank of the Rhine. Once the foggy weather cleared, and the Allied air forces came into action, its forwarding was badly interrupted.*

* That is borne out by the U.S. Official History, by Dr Hugh Cole, which gives the average tank strength of the German armoured divisions as 90 to 100 — only half the American scale. It puts a different complexion on the Allied statement at the time, based on the number of divisions, that this was the most powerful concentration of tanks ever seen in the war.

The troops, ignorant of all these underlying weaknesses, kept a remarkable trust in Hitler and his assurances of victory. Rundstedt said: ‘The morale of the troops taking part was astonishingly high at the start of the offensive. They really believed victory was possible — unlike the higher commanders, who knew the facts.’

Rundstedt receded into the background after Hitler’s rejection of the ‘smaller’ plan, leaving Model and Manteuffel, who had more chance of influencing Hitler, to fight for the technical changes in the plan that were all Hitler would consider. Rundstedt took only a nominal part in the final conference, held on December 12 in his headquarters at Ziegenberg, near Bad Nauheim. Hitler was present, and controlled the proceedings.

As to the technical changes, and tactical improvements, they are most vividly described in Manteuffel’s account — which accords with evidence later gathered from documentary and other sources.

When I saw Hitler’s orders for the offensive I was astonished to find that these even laid down the method and timing of the attack. The artillery was to open fire at 7.30 a.m., and the infantry assault was to be launched at 11 a.m. Between these hours the Luftwaffe was to bomb headquarters and communications. The armoured divisions were not to strike until the breakthrough had been achieved by the infantry mass. The artillery was spread over the whole front of attack.

This seemed to me foolish in several respects, so I immediately worked out a different method, and explained it to Model. Model agreed with it, but remarked sarcastically: ‘You’d better argue it out with the Fuhrer.’ I replied: ‘All right, I’ll do that if you’ll come with me.’ So on December 2, the two of us went to see Hitler in Berlin.

I began by saying: ‘None of us knows what the weather will be on the day of the attack — are you sure the Luftwaffe can fulfil its part In face of the Allied air superiority?’ I reminded Hitler of two occasions in the Vosges earlier where it had proved quite impossible for the armoured divisions to move in daylight. Then I went on: ‘All our artillery will do at 7.30 is to wake the Americans — and they will then have three and a half hours to organise their countermeasures before our assault comes.’ I pointed out also, that the mass of the German infantry was not so good as it had been, and was hardly capable of making such a deep penetration as was required, especially in such difficult country. For the American defences consisted of a chain of forward defence posts, with their main line of resistance well behind — and that would be harder to pierce.

I proposed to Hitler a number of changes. The first was that the assault should be made at 5.30 a.m., under cover of darkness. Of course this would limit the targets for the artillery, but would enable it to concentrate on a number of key targets — such as batteries, ammunition dumps, and headquarters — that had been definitely located.

Secondly, I proposed to form one ‘storm battalion’ from each infantry division, composed of the most expert officers and men. (I picked the officers myself.) These ‘storm battalions’ were to advance in the dark at 5.30, without any covering artillery fire, and penetrate between the Americans’ forward defence posts. They would avoid fighting if possible until they had penetrated deep.

Searchlights, provided by the flak units, were to light the way for the storm troops’ advance by projecting their beams on the clouds, to reflect downwards. I had been much impressed by a demonstration of this kind which I had seen shortly beforehand, and felt that it would be the key to a quick penetration before daylight.

After setting forth my alternative proposals to Hitler, I argued that it was not possible to carry out the offensive in any other way if we were to have a reasonable chance of success. I emphasised: ‘At 4 p.m. it will be dark. So you will only have five hours, after the assault at 11 a.m., in which to achieve the breakthrough. It is very doubtful if you can do it in the time. If you adopt my idea, you will gain a further five and a half hours for the purpose. Then when darkness comes I can launch the tanks. They will advance during the night, pass through our infantry, and by dawn the next day they will be able to launch their own attack on the main position, along a cleared approach.’*

* Liddell Hart:
The Other Side of the Hill,
pp. 451-3.

According to Manteuffel, Hitler accepted these suggestions without a murmur. That was significant. It would seem that he was willing to listen to suggestions that were made to him by a few generals in whom he had faith — Model was another — but he had an instinctive distrust of most of the senior generals, while his reliance on his own immediate staff was mingled with a realisation that they lacked experience of battle conditions.

What these tactical changes did to improve the prospects of the offensive was offset, however, by a reduction of the strength that was to be put into it. For the executive commanders soon had damping news that part of the forces promised them would not be available — owing to the menacing pressure of the Russian attacks in the East.

The result was that the converging attack on Maastricht by the 15th Army, now commanded by Blumentritt, had to be dropped — thus leaving the Allies free to bring reserves down from the north. Moreover the 7th Army, which was to advance as flank cover to the southern wing of the offensive was left with only a few divisions — none of them panzer divisions.