by Kenneth Macksey
© and Published by:
Greenhill Books
(reproduced on MagWeb with permission)
Excerpts from Chapter 9: The Road to Lötzen... At first Hitler followed the advice tendered to him by the officers who represented tank interests at the higher levels of command and by the leading industrialists. They laid down the philosophy that tank design should be based, in order of priority, on armament, speed and armour. This in no way contradicted Guderian's beliefs, even though he worried that many of the army officers involved 'did not have a clear conception from their own experience of the development of modern panzer forces'. Unfortunately neither these officers nor the industrialists were complete masters (or mastered) within their own house. On 8th February 1942 Dr Todt had been killed in a crash and his place as Minister for Armaments taken by Hitler's favourite - the architect Albert Speer. Speer was a remarkable man and a superb organiser, but he knew nothing about tanks or any other sort of weaponry, He had to lean on experts, and the experts had vested interests. For example, industrialists vied with each other to favour their pet concepts and designs. In a competitive trial between two tank types anything might happen: it was quite customary for materials of ridiculously high quality to be used in a test vehicle , well knowing that the production machine could not be similarly supplied. And if a maverick designer of the verve and ambition of, to quote the supreme example, Dr Porsche, did not get his way in committee or by trial he was perfectly capable of making a direct approach to Hitler, whose susceptibilities to the gigantically dramatic were familiar. In consequence, throughout 1942 and despite the agreed order of priorities laid down in January, Hitler indulged in the habitual game of digression. Some off-hand mention of a new threat or idea would stimulate fresh fears. The product might be discussions about a host of counter-projects, some sound, many fanciful and useless, with the danger that bad things could be initiated. Yet by the skin of its teeth and the dedicated efforts of the commonsense few, the central programme was maintained and improved. Battleworthy tanks began to reach the troops at the front. Even so, in October 1942, total production of Pz IVs was only 100. Appalling wastage in an overstrained and badly organised industrial base was compounded by a multitude of different permutations of self-propelled gun. An extraordinary number of variations, along with redoubled armour thicknesses, were tried in efforts to defeat every sort of enemy attack. Work went ahead on a tank weighing well over 100 tons and there was talk of a truly bizarre monster weighing 1,000 tons. While Speer successfully carried out a rapid and amazingly effective reorganisation of industry, he was quite unable to control its products because nobody could curb Hitler's military intuition at its most fantastic. A moment was to arise in February 1943 when the panzer divisions in Russia, recoiling before the storm of the Russian offensive, could muster, on average, a mere 27 tanks each. And yet by common consent, and despite the gunners' fond expectations, the tank obstinately provided the key to survival in mobile warfare fought over vast frontages. Guderian writes in Panzer Leader that '... the few men of insight in Hitler's military entourage began to look around for someone who might be capable, even at this late hour, of staving off the chaos that threatened us all. My prewar writings were placed on Hitler's desk and they managed to persuade him to read them. It was then proposed to him that he send for me. Finally they succeeded in overcoming Hitler's distrust of my person to the extent that he agreed to listen to me at least once.' A slight mystery surrounds the names of the officers concerned but all, in fact, is made clear by an entry on 28th February 1943 in the official diary of the Chief of the HPA - by now Schmundt who had taken over from Bodewin Keitel: ‘Chief HPA has for some time recommended Generaloberst Guderian to the Führer giving as reason that he is one of his most faithful follower in the General Staff. During long discussions on 25th and 26th February ... the Führe has convinced himself that he could trust Generaloberst Guderian with this responsible post.' General Engel also helped, but it was Schmundt, quite obviously, who carried on where von Below had failed in 1941. Guderian is right, therefore, to give the impression that it was difficult to persuade Hitler to take him back - the Führer's deep-seated mistrust of anybody who had once challenged him was never completely dispelled. Yet Hitler was capable of a semblance of forgiveness if it suited him: Rundstedt who had been retired by him in 1938 at the time of the Fritsch crisis, had been brought back in 1939 - and Rundstedt had been forgiven in 1942 for his temerity in 1941. Moreover Hitler now felt in need of something more potent than advice. His confidence had been shaken by the failure of the operations under his personal direction. His intuition had proven fallible. He needed independent executives. On the Eastern Front he all at once gave Manstein unusual freedom of action to stem the advancing Russian armies in the Ukraine. On 20th February Manstein hurled them back upon Kharkov when their fuel ran out. That same afternoon, Guderian, having stated to Schmundt the terms for his reinstatement in an appointment of his own design - to be called Inspector General of Armoured Troops - had an interview with the Führer. Guderian perceived Hitler's mood of uncertainty and reports him as saying ' Since 1941 our ways have parted: there were numerous misunderstandings at that time which I much regret. I need you.' It is possible that, in a troubled moment, this most insincere of politicians, for once, spoke the truth. It would be equally likely that he won his way back into Guderian's trust in the innate knowledge that a man he had previously failed to convince could be persuaded to help only by a display of warm humility and abnegation. As the product of this meeting and a round of talks with key personalities, Guderian drafted a charter for Hitler's signature embodying the authority which had been denied in 1938. In the opening paragraph Hitler was made to state that the Inspector General ‘... is responsible to me for the future development of armoured troops along the lines that will make that arm of the Service into a decisive weapon for winning the war. The Inspector General is immediately subordinate to me, has the status of a Commander-in-Chief of an Army, and is the Senior Officer of the Panzer Command.' Guderian's responsibilities, as drafted, were to include organisation and training not only over Army units but also, where appropriate, those of the Luftwaffe and Waffen SS. Close collaboration with Albert Speer was called for in the technical development of weapons, along with the creation of new formations and tactical doctrine. He was given direct command, too, over all Replacement Units of mobile troops including the home-based schools. Finally he was authorised to issue regulations. In effect he had at last achieved the aim of making a self-sufficient combat force within the Wehrmacht, endowing it with much of the military status already enjoyed by the SS and the Luftwaffe and even, as one day would prove, a small measure of political power. Guderian's charter looks remarkably similar to a document which had been drafted by his opposite number - Percy Hobart - in England in the autumn of 1940 when the state of Britain's Army and armoured forces was as parlous in the wake of Dunkirk as was Germany's in the aftermath of Stalingrad. Hobart had suggested to Winston Churchill the creation of a Commander of the Royal Armoured Corps with status equal to that of an Army Councillor and powers almost identical to those attained by Guderian. Winston Churchill's most senior generals - Generals Dill and Brooke (both of them gunners) opposed the idea. But the Prime Minister was not prepared to override them in the same way as Hitler, though he was later to express regret at not having done so. In Britain a system similar to that which had evolved in Germany in 1938 was the result. There was also a difference in approach between Hobart and Guderian. Whereas Hobart did not feel himself fitted (for reasons of abrasive personalities) to the supreme task, Guderian never for one moment doubted that he alone was the man for the job, regardless of the opposition. Commenting on his charter after the war he wrote: 'Disadvantageous results from this organisation are unknown to the author.' Not everybody would have agreed with that profession of faith. The artillerists grumbled and managed to snatch the anti-tank units from Guderian's clutches - to his unspeakable rage - but for the most part the fighting soldiers heaved a sigh of relief that Guderian was reinstated. So too did Speer who at last found himself teamed with a man with sole responsibility whose sense of urgency and system braced him in standing firmly by rational ideas and commitments. Very soon the fighting soldiers, those who mattered so much, would know that 'Schnelle Heinz was back' and with him the hope that the changes they had asked for would be implemented. He took post on 1st March. In a document, prepared for the Americans shortly after the war, he described the methods and organisation employed. 'Training and organisation were each controlled by a General Staff officer and each branch of the Panzer Command was represented by war-experienced officers, most of whom were not fit for active duty because of serious injuries ... The duty of these specialists was the development of their branch and the issue of regulations written by special commissions composed of officers with fresh experience at the front. These commissions worked under the supervision of the agency for regulations at the Panzer Command School.' By his insistence upon employing war-experienced officers, Guderian practised what he had been preaching regularly to the OKW and OKH whose senior staff officers, he maintained, were hopelessly out of touch with reality since they were innocent of active service since 1918. For his Chief of Staff Guderian selected Oberst Wolfgang Thomale, 'an ardent tank man’ and a staff officer of immense capability. Their partnership was complete - far more, perhaps, than is generally realised. The sub-division of their duties was precise. Upon his appointment Guderian said, with a grin, 'One of us must travel and the other run the office. I will travel!’ It is fairly obvious that Guderian regarded his appointment as of wider scope than anybody else intended. Speaking to the Americans after 1945 he said that he '... considered it his mission to obtain personal insight into the character of his superiors and co-workers and to make immediate proposals based on his own experience with the troops as circumstances required. Therefore the staff was billetted in the vicinity of the Führer's headquarters and that of the Chief of the General Staff in order that he might remain in constant touch with the command of the Wehrmacht and the Amy.' At the same time Thomale set up an office in the Bendlerstrasse in Berlin, and began one of the most intensive spells of activity any chief of staff could experience, working with enthusiasm for a man he describes as 'Germany's best and most responsible general'. Published by Greenhill Books. © Greenhill Books. All rights reserved. Reproduced on MagWeb with permission of the publisher. Back to List of One-Drous Chapters: World War II Back to List of All One-Drous Chapters Back to MagWeb Master Magazine List Magazine articles and contents are copyrighted property of the respective publication. All copyrights, trademarks, and other rights are held by the respective magazines, companies, and/or licensors, with all rights reserved. MagWeb, its contents, and HTML coding are © Copyright 1998 by Coalition Web, Inc. This article appears in MagWeb (Magazine Web) on the Internet World Wide Web. |