The Steel Wave (61 page)

Von Kluge moved to a chair and seemed to debate whether to sit. “I am not a friend of Reichsmarschall Göring. He can be…difficult.”

“Choose whatever words you wish. In my opinion, Göring has betrayed our efforts with perfect precision. If we had struck the enemy on his landing beaches with both armor and air power, our situation now would be decidedly different.”

Von Kluge frowned and rubbed his stomach.

“Are you ill? General Speidel can send for a doctor.” He knew he had done a poor job of hiding his sarcasm, but von Kluge seemed not to notice.

“No, not necessary.”

“Supper, then? We have some truly fine French beef.”

Von Kluge looked at him, puzzled, finally absorbed his words, and said, “No, perhaps later.” He took a deep breath. “You were correct, Herr Rommel. I have seen your reports to the Führer, reports that he does not believe. But those reports were accurate. The best course open to us is to withdraw our forces back east and south of the Orne River and south of the Vire. We cannot maintain a front as extensive as the one we are facing now. That part of the Fifteenth Army which remains at Calais must be brought southward, to protect from the enemy’s ability to reach into the Ruhr Valley.”

Rommel said nothing. He was surprised at von Kluge’s strange show of acceptance and impressed by his quick grasp of the battlegrounds. He might be a martinet, he thought, but he understands how to fight a war.

“So, will you advise the High Command of these things?”

Von Kluge seemed suddenly uncertain. “Of course. But you already have. As did von Rundstedt.”

“Don’t forget Geyr. Never liked the man, but he occasionally understood how to use his tanks.”

Von Kluge absorbed the sarcasm, nodding slowly. “Allow me, Herr Rommel, to withdraw my complaints against you. My criticism was unwarranted.” He seemed embarrassed, moved quickly to the door. “I am still establishing my staff and my headquarters. I shall not be as far from the situation as von Rundstedt. But there is much to do. Good evening.”

Von Kluge’s bootsteps faded away in the corridor. In the silence, Speidel closed the door, looking at Rommel with open-mouthed surprise.

Rommel said, “I dislike him less today.”

“He apologized to you.”

“Yes, he did. That took courage. The question is, What does he tell Hitler? Our Führer has a short fuse these days, so von Kluge has a problem if he wants to keep his new command. Do we fight the war we are fighting now, or do we fight the war we must fight to preserve our country?”

“Sir, what do we do?”

Rommel felt the gloom returning, thought a moment. “Hitler was correct when he told me that no one would negotiate with him. More so now. There is no reason why our enemies here should listen to any kind of
talk.
”

“Sir, may I sit?” Speidel asked.

Rommel pointed to a chair, and Speidel slid down slowly, seemingly consumed by thoughts.

“Sir…”

“I fear, Hans, that if this war does not end very soon, Germany will cease to exist. I would rather die right here and now than have my family live under the thumb of Russian savages. Our only hope is to cease the destruction of this army,
my
army. I faulted Geyr for not using his armor, thought he was timid for preserving his forces. Now I see he was right. We must preserve what strength we still have. The most important fight we must wage has yet to come, the fight to prevent the Russians from conquering our homeland. I still believe that if the British and the Americans understood that we hold no hatred for them, if we could communicate to them that we share a common enemy…”

“We cannot offer any kind of negotiation, sir. We cannot even suggest it.”

“No, not while Hitler is alive. And so there will be no negotiation.”

Speidel leaned back in the chair, his eyes in a narrow stare. “There could be a solution, sir. All Germans who love their country—”

“Quiet, Hans. I know your solution. No army officer can speak of…solutions, not in this office. Do you understand me? I will not hear of any…solutions. I have one duty, and that is to do what is best for my country and for the men who serve me. I cannot be involved…. I cannot be distracted by those things that do not concern me right here.”

Speidel stood, stiffened, and said, “Sir, thank you. I should attend to my duties.”

“You are dismissed, Hans.”

Speidel spun around, left the room, and silence surrounded Rommel again. He sat for a long moment, then rose up from the chair, felt the old aches in his side, stiffening joints, and moved to the tall window. It was dark outside, a light rain falling, nothing to see, and he stared out, thinking of his son. What will the world hold for you, Manfred? What things will you endure and suffer because men like me did not have the courage to stand up and say
no.
Who has the courage now?

37. EISENHOWER

L
ate on the night of July 7, more than 450 British heavy bombers launched a massive assault on the city of Caen. The following morning, July 8, Montgomery’s beleaguered army stepped off to confront what they believed would be an enemy who had been blasted into oblivion.

Though Montgomery had often feuded with the “air barons,” he had convinced most of them, particularly Leigh-Mallory, that bomber support was essential to the operation. Eisenhower welcomed any sign of cooperation, had endured enough of the back-biting among the air commanders. There was still a strong feeling among both American and British air commanders that heavy bombing of German cities was the easiest path to winning the war and that chewing up ground forces was a wasteful cost of lives. Neither Eisenhower nor Montgomery agreed, and the rivalry and clashes of personality had continued to be a serious nuisance to the harmony of Eisenhower’s command.

The normally disagreeable Leigh-Mallory had surprised Eisenhower by coming around to Montgomery’s point of view, that the heavy bombers should be readily available to assist any major ground offensive. But, as usual, many of Leigh-Mallory’s subordinates disagreed with him, voicing needling opinions that Montgomery was wasting their time, time that could be better spent dropping bombs on German factories. It helped matters very little that many of the air commanders continued to have so little regard for Leigh-Mallory that, if he supported a plan, they felt obliged to oppose it. But Montgomery had always been persuasive, and after considerable cajoling, the air barons agreed to cooperate. But the execution of any plan this large was never simple. Even Leigh-Mallory realized there could be problems caused by the close proximity of Montgomery’s troops to the German positions. British pilots were deeply concerned that any inaccuracy by their bombardiers could have a catastrophic impact on their own troops. So during the crucial first hours of the operation, those air crews made the same mistake that had been made at Omaha Beach a month before. When the nervous bombardiers reached their designated targets, they chose to wait a few additional seconds to release their bombs. That delay caused the bomb loads to fall just beyond the German positions, and, instead of blistering the enemy’s lines, they impacted the historic city itself. Fourteen thousand buildings were destroyed, nearly every recognizable landmark in Caen reduced to rubble.

Once the bomb runs were completed, the command was given for the British troops to begin their ground assault. Among the British tank crews and infantrymen, there was an air of celebration, the expectation that finally the enemy that had so doggedly stood his ground had now been obliterated and Montgomery’s boasts of capturing the city would be realized without much cost. Instead, the British stepped straight into the mostly undamaged guns of the Twelfth SS Panzer Division, one of the most fanatically loyal units in the German army. The fight lasted three days, the Germans still holding their ground, backing away only as the war of attrition weakened their ranks. As Montgomery’s troops finally began to capture strongholds in the city itself, they learned what effect the bombs had truly had. With the city so completely destroyed, the roadways were piled high with debris, so much so that British tanks and trucks could not pass through. That job fell to the British foot soldiers. By July 10, the Germans had backed away just enough for Montgomery to claim that the city had been captured, but even then, British troops only controlled a portion of the city itself. Fighting continued, the casualty lists on both sides lengthening by the hour.

With so much German effort being expended to hold Caen, Omar Bradley knew exactly the opportunity he had been given. The swamp and hedgerow country along the American front had done as much as the Germans had to frustrate every American effort to break out of the confinement in the Cotentin Peninsula. Eisenhower and his commanders understood that Rommel was using the natural defensive terrain to hold the Americans back with as few troops and as little armor as he could. It was frustrating to Bradley that he had not been able to take advantage, that the bocage country had proved to be far more difficult to break through than anyone had expected. Bradley continued to be strengthened by fresh American divisions coming ashore, adding to his numerical superiority. With Montgomery finally punching into Caen, the heavy concentration of German armor there would most likely stay put. Though Montgomery had boasted of a breakthrough at Caen, the reality was clear to both Eisenhower and Bradley. Once again the British had been stopped short of their goals. If the German lines were finally to be cracked open, both generals knew that the strike southward had to be an American operation.

Even as the fight raged around Caen, Montgomery made loud claims that his mission had been accomplished, a claim some of his own generals were quietly disputing. The air commanders in particular were livid, explaining away the errors among their own bombardiers by claiming that Montgomery’s planning was, once again, faulty. Once more, Eisenhower had to hear the backbiting darts being tossed back and forth among his generals, a spitting match over territoriality, men guarding their turf and their reputations. Through all that annoyance, Eisenhower knew that the prolonged fights around Caen had cost both the British and the Germans far more resources and casualties than they could afford to lose. Secret Ultra intercepts had given Eisenhower the clear signal that Rommel’s army was facing severe shortages across the entire front. But British losses were equally devastating. Though British and Canadian troops were massed on the beaches behind their front lines, awaiting a breakthrough Montgomery still insisted was imminent, the losses he had suffered were having a dangerous effect on morale, not only at the front but in the offices of the British government.

On July 10, as Eisenhower made one of his frequent trips from SHAEF headquarters near London to his forward command post at Portsmouth, he made a stop, at the request of the one man who was never afraid to voice his opinions about anything.

CHEQUERS, HOME OF WINSTON CHURCHILL
JULY 10, 1944

“For such a small man, Monty has an enormous mouth. Large enough to fit both boots. I admit, though, I was seduced by him.” Churchill filled Eisenhower’s glass, then his own. “I put too much vinegar on his claims for instant success at Caen. I should have known better.”

Eisenhower sat in a soft chair across from Churchill’s bed and set the glass of cognac on the small table beside him, the warmth of the room playing on his weariness. He had not expected the meeting to take place in Churchill’s bedroom, but Churchill had insisted, and Eisenhower knew that the prime minister was far more interested in the conversation itself than where it took place. Churchill continued to talk, having said nothing yet that Eisenhower had been surprised to hear.

“The damned newspapers love him still. Saw a story in the
Times
by that buffoon Berkeley, something about Montgomery’s magnificent talent for
economy of casualties.
The suggestion was that we should only fight those battles where no one would get hurt; lo and behold, Field Marshal Montgomery had performed admirably, to the benefit of our gallant boys or some such nonsense. I paraphrase, of course, but not by much. How’s the cognac?”

Eisenhower picked up the glass, copied Churchill’s obligatory swirl of the dark liquid, and took a taste. The warmth rose through his nose, the burn spreading down through his throat, and he responded with a forced smile, a slow approving nod. Churchill seemed not to notice but padded around the room, his slippers flopping noisily.

“Oh, be sure to tell your man Butcher I appreciate the cigars. Hard to believe Hitler understands tobacco. Fine smoke.”

The cigars had come from Cherbourg, a souvenir Harry Butcher had brought back to SHAEF headquarters. Eisenhower had agreed with his staff officer’s perfect logic that they were a most appropriate gift for Churchill.

“Thank you. I’ll tell him. I would imagine they come from somewhere else though. Cuba, perhaps. I don’t think the Germans grow tobacco.”

“I didn’t mean to change the subject, Ike. Monty’s a problem. Patience is running out.”

Eisenhower took another sip of the cognac, saw now that Churchill expected a reply. “Monty has his problems, certainly. But he’s doing the job. I know that people are impatient with him, expect him to accomplish every objective.”

“They expect it because he tells them that’s what he’s going to do! Dammit, Ike, no one’s faulting Monty because of
you,
because you gave him some impossible job to do. He spews out his own bilge, and after a while, it washes back up around his own damned feet!”

Eisenhower thought, Be careful. He’s testing me. This can’t help us at all. After a long moment, he said, “Monty has accomplished a great deal. His engagements haven’t always been successful, but results have come. No one can expect our plans to remain unchanged. We have done a great deal to adapt to what the enemy has given us. I had doubts that Monty could take Caen the first day, and I damn well wish he had pushed harder when he had the chance. But that’s behind us. What’s important right now is that the enemy has responded in a way that offers us another opportunity. The Germans have concentrated their greatest strength on Monty’s front, and we believe that made it possible for Bradley to make a strong move. Because Monty tied up so much German armor, we were able to capture Cherbourg damn near on our timetable. Bradley’s people are planning their next move right now, and it will be big, a major drive against the enemy’s positions along the base of the Cotentin Peninsula. The only way we could expect to pull that off without getting our asses handed to us is by Monty’s holding so much of the enemy around Caen.”