History of the Second World War (25 page)

The whole outlook of the war was revolutionised when Hitler invaded Russia on June 22, 1941 — a day before the anniversary of Napoleon’s invasion of 1812. That step proved as fatal to Hitler as it had to his forerunner, though the end did not come so quickly.

Napoleon was forced to retreat from Russia before the end of the year, and the Russians entered
his
capital in April of the second year following his invasion. Hitler was not driven out of Russia until three years had passed, and the Russians did not enter
his
capital until April of the fourth year. He had penetrated twice as far into Russia as Napoleon had done, though failing to repeat Napoleon’s illusory success in entering Moscow. His deeper penetration was due to superior means of mobility. But this was not adequate for the fulfilment of his purpose. Space spelt first his frustration, and then his defeat.

History repeated itself also in the auxiliary effects of the aggressor’s suicidal step. It brought Britain reprieve from a situation that appeared hopeless in the eyes of most people outside her own insular boundaries. It was obvious to them how desperate was the position of a small island on the edge of a hostile continent, which enveloped it more closely than in Napoleonic times. The value of the sea-moat was diminished by the development of airpower. The industrialisation of the island had made it dependent on imports, and thus multiplied the menace of submarine power. By refusing to consider any peace offer the British Government had committed the country to a course that under such conditions was bound, logically, to lead through growing exhaustion to eventual collapse — even if Hitler abstained from attempting its quick conquest by invasion. The course of no compromise was equivalent to slow suicide.

The United States might pump in ‘air’ to keep Britain afloat, but that would merely suffice to prolong the process, not to avert the end. Moreover the measure of this respite was offset by Churchill’s midsummer decision to pursue the bombing of Germany with all Britain’s puny strength. Such bombing attacks could amount to no more than pin-pricks, but they inherently tended to hinder Hitler’s inclination to turn his attention elsewhere.

But the British people took little account of the hard facts of their situation. They were instinctively stubborn and strategically ignorant. Churchill’s inspiring speeches helped to correct the depression of Dunkirk, and supplied the tonic the islanders wanted. They were exhilarated by his challenging note, and did not pause to ask whether it was strategically warranted.

Deeper than the influence of Churchill was the effect of Hitler, His conquest of France and near approach to their shores aroused them as no earlier evidence of his tyranny and aggressiveness had done. They reacted once again in their long-bred way — intent to keep their teeth in Hitler’s skin at any cost. Never was their collective characterisation as a bulldog so clearly demonstrated, and justified, in all its sublime stupidity.

Once again a conqueror of the West was confounded by a people who ‘did not see that they were beaten’. Hitler understood them better than Napoleon, as
Mein Kampf
shows, and he had thus taken unusual pains to avoid wounding their pride. But he had reckoned on their practical sense, and was baffled that they could not see the hopelessness of the outlook nor recognise that the conditions framed in his peace offer were extraordinarily easy considering the circumstances. In that state of confusion he hesitated as to what he should do next, and then turned in the same direction as Napoleon — to the conquest of Russia as the preliminary to a final settlement with Britain.

It was not a sudden turn of his mind, but made by degrees. It was also complex in causation — more complex than Napoleon’s turn — and cannot be explained simply by any single factor or reason.

The heavy losses of the Luftwaffe over southern England were less decisive strategically, though more decisive tactically, than the check to the French fleet off Cape Finisterre in 1805. For Goring’s defeat had no such instantaneous effect on Hitler’s mind as Villeneuve’s retreat had produced on Napoleon’s. For the time being, Hitler persevered with his efforts to bend the British people’s will, and merely changed the form of his pressure — from an attempted destruction of the defending air force to night bombing of the industrial cities. The intermittent relaxation of pressure was due, apart from weather, to a wavering of his mind. He seems to have been reluctant to proceed to extremes against Britain if he could possibly persuade her to accept peace, and he clung to the hope while pursuing the aim clumsily.

Meanwhile his mind was moving with increasing momentum in another direction, under the influence of his economic needs and fears, multiplied by his prejudices. Although his pact with Stalin had paved the way for his victory in the West, his conquests there had been largely the product of circumstances, whereas he had always contemplated the overthrow of Soviet Russia. For him that idea was more than a matter of expediency in pursuit of ambition; anti-Bolshevism was his most profound emotional conviction.

This eastward impulse was strongly influenced by Britain’s resistance, but its revival had begun before Britain’s rejection of his peace offer.

Early in June 1940, while Hitler was still engaged in the French campaign, Stalin had seized the opportunity to occupy Lithuania, Estonia, and Latvia. Hitler had agreed that the Baltic States should be within the Soviet Union’s sphere of influence, not to their actual occupation, and he felt that he had been tricked by his partner, although most of his advisers realistically considered the Russian move into the Baltic States to be a natural precaution, inspired by fear of what Hitler might attempt after his victory in the West. Hitler’s deep distrust of Russia had been shown in the way he worried throughout the campaign in the West at having left only ten divisions in the East, facing a hundred Russian divisions.

Then on June 26, again without notice to her partner, Russia addressed an ultimatum to Rumania, demanding the immediate restoration of Bessarabia, and the surrender of northern Bukovina in addition — as a ‘small compensation’ for the way that Russia had been ‘robbed’ of the former province in 1918. The Rumanian Government was allowed only 24 hours for its answer, and when it yielded to the threat the Russian troops swarmed in at once, by air as well as overland.

That was worse than a ‘slap in the face’ for Hitler, since it placed the Russians ominously close to the Rumanian oilfields on which he counted for his own supply, now that he was cut off from oversea sources. In the following weeks he became increasingly nervous about that risk, and anxious about its bearing on the air offensive against England. He became correspondingly suspicious of Stalin’s intentions. On July 29 he spoke to Jodl about the possibility of having to fight Russia if she tried to seize the Rumanian oilfields. A few weeks later, as a countermove, he began the transfer of two armoured and ten infantry divisions to Poland. A directive of September 6 to the Counter-Intelligence Service, said: ‘The Eastern territory will be manned more strongly in the weeks to come. These regroupings must not create the impression in Russia that we are preparing for an offensive in the East.’ The strength of the German forces was to be camouflaged by frequent changes of area:

On the other hand, Russia will realise that strong and highly-trained German troops are stationed in the Government-General, in the Eastern provinces, and in the Protectorate. She should draw the conclusion that we are ready to protect our interests, particularly in the Balkans, with strong forces against Russian seizure.

This directive had a predominantly defensive note. It showed concern to provide a deterrent to Russian aggression rather than foreshadowing German aggression. But because of the distance that separated his front from the oilfields he had to safeguard, he could not count on being able to give them direct protection, and was prompted to consider an offensive diversion on the Polish front. The idea of such a diversion soon developed into that of a major invasion — to forestall the particular risk by excising the whole danger.

In mid-September reports came that the Russian propaganda service had switched to a line of anti-German talk within the Red Army. This showed the Russians’ suspicious reaction to the first increase of the German forces in the East, and their promptness to prepare their troops for a Russo-German conflict. But to Hitler’s mind it was evidence of their offensive designs. He began to feel that he could not afford to wait — until he had completed and consolidated his victory in the West — before dealing with Russia. His fears, ambitions, and prejudices reacted on one another, giving impetus to the fresh turn of his thought. In that state of mind his suspicions were easily quickened. Puzzled by the way that the British did not seem to realise their hopeless situation, he looked to Russia for the explanation. Over and over again as the months went on he said, to Jodl and others, that Britain must be hoping for Russian intervention, or she would have given in. Already there must be some secret agreement. The despatch of Sir Stafford Cripps to Moscow, and his conversations with Stalin, were confirmation of it. Germany must strike soon, or she would be strangled. Hitler could not see that the Russians, likewise, might have fears of his aggression.

The plan for an offensive against Russia had already been sketched out when General Paulus (later to become famous as commander of the army that was trapped by the Russians at Stalingrad) became Deputy Chief of the General Staff at the beginning of September. He was instructed ‘to examine its possibilities’. The objectives defined were, first, the destruction of the Russian armies in western Russia; and then an advance into Russia deep enough to secure Germany against the risk of air attack from the east, carried as far as a line from Archangel to the Volga.

By the beginning of November the plan was completed in detail, and then tested in a couple of war games. Hitler had now become less anxious about a Russian offensive — yet more inclined to take the offensive against Russia. The preparation and contemplation of vast strategic plans always intoxicated him. The doubts which his generals expressed, when he disclosed the trend of his mind, merely served to make it more definite. Had he not proved right on each issue where they had doubted his capacity to succeed? He must prove them wrong again, and more strikingly — their doubts showed that for all their subservience, they still had an underlying distrust of him as an amateur. Moreover, his admirals and his generals were apprehensive about an oversea move against England — and he could not remain passive. He had set on foot plans for a move through Spain against Gibraltar, to close the western end of the Mediterranean, but that was too small an operation to satisfy his gigantic ambition.

A fresh development at the end of October had an influence on his decision — and a greater one ultimately on its outcome. This was Mussolini’s invasion of Greece, launched without reference to Hitler, who was incensed by his junior partner’s disregard for his guidance, by the way it upset his own programme, and by the possibility that the Italians might establish themselves in his intended sphere. Although the last risk soon waned with the Italian reverses, Mussolini’s independent initiative led Hitler to expedite his own Balkan moves. It formed a fresh reason for deferring the completion of his western programme, and accentuated the easterly turn of his mind. As he had to outstrip his associates in a race for control of the Balkans, he would settle with Russia next, and leave the British problem until later. It was not a clear-cut decision even yet, but it was the thought uppermost in his mind.

On November 10 Molotov arrived in Berlin to discuss a wide range of questions, including the German suggestion that Russia should definitely join the Axis. At the end of the conversations an agreed communique was issued, saying: ‘The exchange of ideas took place in an atmosphere of mutual trust, and led to a mutual understanding on all important questions interesting Germany and the Soviet Union.’ Privately, too, the German participants were fairly well satisfied with the results, which were summed up thus on the 16th.

For the time being there will be no fixed treaty. Russia appears willing to join the Three Power Pact after several further questions have been clarified. . . . Molotov is notified of contemplated German action in the Balkans in support of Italy and raises no objection. He suggests the creation of conditions suitable for Russian influence in Bulgaria, similar to German influence in Rumania, but this suggestion is not entered into by the Germans. Germany, however, expresses her disinterestedness in Turkey’s domination of the Dardanelles and sympathy with Russian desires for bases there. . . .

But ‘mutual trust’ was entirely lacking, and the diplomatic phrase never had a more hollow ring. On the 12th Hitler’s War Directive No. 18 had said:

Political discussions have been initiated with the aim of clarifying Russia’s attitude for the time being. Irrespective of the results of these discussions, all preparations for the East which have already been verbally ordered will be continued.

While the diplomats were talking the military plans were progressing. Hitler himself did not find the result of the conversations as satisfactory as others did, regarded Russia’s further questions about the Three Power Pact as pure evasion, and was dominated by his growing desire to take the offensive. Raeder, who saw him on the 14th, noted that ‘the Leader is still inclined to instigate the conflict with Russia’, After Molotov left, Hitler saw a number of his executives and made it plain to them that he was going to invade Russia. Their attempts to dissuade him from the venture were in vain. When they argued that it meant war on two fronts — a situation which had proved fatal to Germany in the First World War — he retorted that it was impossible to rely on Russia remaining quiet until Britain’s resistance was broken. To overcome Britain required an expansion of the air force and navy, which meant reducing the army, but no such reduction was feasible while Russia remained a menace. The situation had been changed by ‘Russia’s unreliability, as evident in the Balkan States’. So ‘Operation Sealion’ would have to be postponed.