After Hitler: The Last Ten Days of World War II in Europe (15 page)

President Roosevelt’s instinctive approach was not shared by Truman. Roosevelt had once remarked that the Russians had a habit of sending him a friendly note on Monday, spitting in his eye on Tuesday and then being nice again on Wednesday. The first time it had happened, he was ‘sore’, and ‘came back at them’, but this only made things worse. Since then he had learned that if he ignored them, the Soviets ‘straightened out’ by themselves. In contrast, Truman believed in scolding the Russians every time they were belligerent or uncooperative. He compared the Russians to people ‘from the wrong side of the tracks’.

To convince the Soviets that the US would keep its promises, Roosevelt had ordered that all Lend-Lease contracts must be fulfilled, even at the expense of US defence needs. In this, Roosevelt shared the view of Eisenhower that the way to build trust was to keep one’s word. Truman ended the protocol system and allowed Russian supplies to be diverted to western Europe. Roosevelt insisted that Lend-Lease should never be used as a lever on Soviet foreign policy; Truman shared Churchill’s view of bargaining chips – and he tried to use Lend-Lease as a bargaining chip with the Russians.

Roosevelt had tried hard to win Stalin’s friendship. Truman was willing to meet with his Soviet counterpart – but let Stalin make the first move. To preserve good relations with Stalin, Roosevelt tried to avoid quibbling with the Russians over details (leaving such matters to the State Department). He would not get involved personally unless he felt the Alliance itself was at risk. Truman got drawn in to a series of cables with Stalin over more minor issues.

Roosevelt – from his first meeting with Stalin at the Teheran summit – attempted to play the role of mediator between Britain and the Soviet Union. Truman, since coming into office, had sided with the British on a whole range of issues: opposing the Soviet recognition of a provisional government in Austria; demanding that Allied representatives be admitted to Vienna and joining with Churchill in opposing the recognition of the Lublin Poles.

Journalists began to perceive this shift in direction.
New York Times
columnist C. L. Sulzberger wrote at the beginning of May 1945:

‘The discussions at San Francisco and some of our reactions to the Soviets have given to Russian as well as American sources the impression of an Anglo-American front against Moscow. Such a “front” – diplomatic, political or military – can only serve to heighten and justify the super-suspicions that are the product of the Communist mind and convince the Soviet Union of the necessity of unilateral action and reliance on its own strength.’

Joseph Davies, a former ambassador to Moscow, warned Truman at this time: ‘I have found that when approached with generosity and friendliness, the Soviets respond with even greater generosity. The “tough” approach induces a sharp rejoinder – that “out-toughs” anyone they consider hostile.’ But Davies’ view was disliked by other Soviet experts in the State Department, who felt that he was politically naive and was rationalising Soviet cruelty and atrocities. They nicknamed his 1941 book
Mission to Moscow
‘Submission to Moscow’.

Before Truman’s first, confrontational meeting with Soviet foreign minister Molotov on 23 April 1945, there had been a discussion of what approach to adopt. Admiral Leahy said that he had left Yalta with the impression that the Soviet government had no intention of permitting a free government to operate in Poland, and that he would have been surprised had the Soviets behaved any differently. In his opinion the Yalta agreement – over Poland – was susceptible to two interpretations. He added that he felt it was a serious matter to break with the Russians, but that the US should tell them that it stood for a free and independent Poland. But others believed the Soviet Union was reneging on its agreements and should be challenged.

This change of approach had already raised concerns in Moscow by the beginning of May 1945, but its effect was softened by the more conciliatory stance taken by Eisenhower. Truman held army chief of staff General George Marshall in considerable respect, and Marshall in return completely trusted Eisenhower. As a result, the Supreme Allied Commander could make the important decisions about military relations with the Russians without interference from above.

These were confused and turbulent times, and in the circumstances it was remarkable that things on the ground worked out as well as they did. Field Marshal Montgomery had been rightly concerned over the risk in pushing forward to Wismar. Proof was found in the experience of the lead elements of the US 7th Armored Division, advancing on Montgomery’s right flank.

Captain William Knowlton’s 87th Cavalry Reconnaissance Squadron was leading the way. He was told to push on through any retreating Germans and keep going until he made contact with the Russians. These were quite remarkable orders – but their simplicity was deceptive. Knowlton’s situation was to become more and more surreal.

On the morning of 2 May Knowlton’s tanks sped towards their first objective, the town of Neustadt-Glewe. They passed German troops marching westwards, who shouted out to the Americans and threw down their guns. Knowlton’s men simply went faster. They passed fresh groups of the Wehrmacht, who did the same. Occasionally, German gunners aimed at the lead tanks and then stopped in puzzlement as the Americans remained seated atop their turrets and made no move towards their own weaponry. They concluded there must be a huge US force following up to justify such confidence – and abandoned their artillery.

Neustadt-Glewe was awash with German soldiers and civilians. One of the Americans jumped down and helped one of Neustadt’s military police direct the traffic. On Knowlton’s men raced, through the town of Parchim. The Germans had been alerted that Knowlton’s force was on its way. They reckoned the faster it could continue eastwards the more of their soldiers would escape captivity at the hands of the Russians. When the Americans arrived they found German police on each corner to direct them through.

The SS kept the crowds off the streets and German soldiers lined the roads six deep, cheering loudly. They seemed to think Knowlton’s small force was off to fight the Russians. General Hasso von Manteuffel’s 3rd Panzer Army had been heading westwards in an effort to escape the Red Army. The rapid advance of Knowlton’s tiny force was triggering a mass surrender. So many German soldiers were throwing down their weapons that the US troops following the 87th Reconnaissance Squadron were overwhelmed by the sheer press of numbers. They were falling farther and farther behind. As the Americans reached Lübz, the fairy tale dissolved into a harsh reality.

‘I got as scared as I ever had been in my life,’ Knowlton confessed. The Americans had tried to reach their HQ on the radio and found they were out of contact. They were 40 miles inside enemy lines – about sixty-five men, in the centre of the German 3rd Panzer Army. ‘Here in Lübz we encountered some of the real fighting men of the Wehrmacht,’ Knowlton recalled. ‘They sat on mammoth tanks and field artillery pieces, their faces were grim, dirty and bearded, and they kept their guns levelled on us. They were a tough collection – and they did not like us.’

Knowlton was engaged in a desperate game of bluff. The Germans were holding back because they still imagined that many more Americans were following behind, that a line of demarcation with the Russians would then be made and their Wehrmacht units would be on the right side of it. But as Knowlton moved into their command post – surrounded by hostile faces – and attempted to keep control of the situation, he remained completely cut off from other American units. There was still no radio contact with HQ and no US troops were following up behind. And the Germans were starting to realise this.

A panzer captain who had been fighting the Russians came up close to Knowlton. ‘You are not in touch with your HQ,’ he said. All eyes were on the American. Knowlton said: ‘In the silence that followed, outside sounds suddenly became louder. I heard the clashing of tank tracks, the splutter of trucks starting up, the songs of the SS carrying in the cold, bitter wind, the crack of hobnailed boots, the loud commands of German officers.’ Knowlton had one thought – that he had led his men into a death trap.

But he tried a last act of bravado. He looked the panzer officer straight in the eye and said loudly, so that all could hear: ‘Don’t be stupid! Do you think I’d be dumb enough to come all the way here, take three towns and disarm thousands of your soldiers unless I had a large force following up behind.’ The German paused, scratched his head – and agreed with Knowlton. Instead of being shot or arrested, he was appointed garrison commander of Lübz with three surrendered German divisions under his control. The entire room clicked their heels, gave him the Hitler salute and said in unison: ‘
Gute nacht, Herr Kommandant
.’

Knowlton and his men were able to snatch a little sleep. But they awoke to find things even more critical. The German High Command – now based at Flensburg with the Dönitz government – had discovered that a handful of Americans seemed to be disarming most of their army, with the Russians fast approaching. Orders were sent through that all their units should now stand and fight the Red Army. The US 7th Armored Division’s After Action Report put it succinctly:

‘Situation critical: The German High Command have correctly guessed that there are no more American troops within 50 kilometres of Captain Knowlton’s position – and General Fronhein has ordered all German troops to retrieve their weapons immediately and go forward to meet the Russian onslaught. If our American soldiers object they will also be attacked.’

Lübz was about to become a battleground.

Knowlton’s only hope was to reach the Russians first. He formed up a reconnaissance group and moved eastwards out of the town, looking for the Red Army:

‘At 9.25 a.m. I saw on the skyline – from east to west – the longest column of horses, horse-drawn waggons and marching men I had ever seen.’

Knowlton had found the Soviet 191st Rifle Division. He managed to reach the commanding officer. When the Russian realised Knowlton was an American, the two shook hands and slapped each other on the back. Once more East had met West.

‘Everybody grinned, saluted us and yelled unintelligible gibberish – and we grinned, saluted and yelled back.’

A simple command – to make contact with the Russians – had led to an exhilarating, dangerous and utterly unreal journey. For a wonderful moment, Captain Knowlton and his men completely forgot about the war.

4

A Shadow Realm

3
May
1945

‘W
E ARRIVED AT
Flensburg and it was utterly peaceful,’ remembered adjutant Karl Böhm-Tettelbach. ‘The weather was nice. It was the beginning of May and the navy had posted sailors in white outside the Naval Academy at Mürwik where we were quartered. They presented arms whenever Admiral Dönitz (whom Hitler had nominated as Head of State) entered the building. All was quiet around us – it was almost unreal.’

At the very end of the war, the government chosen by Hitler to replace him gathered in Germany’s most northerly town, close to the Danish border in Schleswig-Holstein. It was a place largely unmarked by conflict.

At its head was Admiral Karl Dönitz. In his last days in the Führer Bunker, Hitler had chosen Dönitz to replace him. Böhm-Tettelbach said of Dönitz: ‘He was a total devotee of Hitler – if the Führer set out a course of action, he followed it without hesitation.’ Hitler had now instructed him – in his last will and testament – to be his successor.

The decision was relayed to Dönitz, who was based in northern Germany, by Martin Bormann on 30 April. Bormann then delayed informing him of Hitler’s suicide until the late afternoon of 1 May, some twenty-four hours after the Führer had killed himself. It is unclear what his motives were for this – but possibly he wanted to enlarge his own influence within the new regime. He attempted to break out from the bunker and travel north to join Dönitz, but died in the streets of Berlin. Neither he, nor Goebbels – who chose to commit suicide early on the evening of 1 May – would be joining Dönitz’s new government, as Hitler had hoped. Once he learnt that the Führer was dead, Admiral Dönitz broadcast news of this to the German people and announced his own assumption of power.

Dönitz’s supporters believed or chose to believe this was done out of duty. U-boat captain Otto Kreschner said: ‘He was a total patriot – he saw himself as a servant of his people and Fatherland.’ War correspondent Lothar-Günther Bucheim was less impressed by the admiral’s motives: ‘Towards the end, I could only see him as a harbinger of death – a party lackey, who could not have been more contemptible.’

Admiral Karl Dönitz presided over a shadowy regime that lasted a little over three weeks – from the moment he accepted his appointment as German leader on 1 May to the arrest of his entire government at Flensburg by British troops twenty-three days later. The Dönitz administration was never formally recognised by the Allies. Its existence seems a mere footnote to history and its influence on the last days of the war negligible. And yet, the very fact it existed at all would create real problems – and sow distrust between Britain and America and the Soviet Union.

On 3 May the outside world was still absorbing the news of Hitler’s death. The fact that Göring and Himmler had apparently been cast out of the party, in disgrace, in the last days of the Führer’s rule, was beginning to be realised by the Allies. It seemed at first glance that Hitler’s following had dissolved around him – and that Admiral Dönitz was simply a military man stepping into the breach and a job he probably did not want.

For many, Dönitz was not regarded as either a political figure or a Nazi ideologue. Rather, the Allies knew him as the head of the Third Reich’s navy. America and Britain associated him with the U-boat campaign in the Atlantic; Russia with the activities of the Kriegsmarine in the Baltic, particularly in the last months of the war, when the German fortress outpost on the Courland Peninsula in Latvia was supplied and maintained by the German fleet. No one had anticipated he was about to take over the tottering Reich. For most people, his appointment as Hitler’s successor was a complete surprise.