to bake their bread. The general situation was now so desperate that, ‘in order to save the Reich’, full priority on goods trains was taken back from refugees and returned to the Wehrmacht and fuel distribution. This decision was made on 30 January, the twelfth anniversary of the Nazi Party’s arrival in power.
Some generals regarded civilian refugees, not with pity as the chief victims of Soviet revenge for the Wehrmacht’s invasion, but simply as a severe nuisance. One of Hitler’s most favoured commanders, General Schorner, had given orders that a thirty-kilometre zone on the east bank of the upper Oder should be reserved for military operations. He also complained loudly that refugees were hindering military activity, and requested an order from Field Marshal Keitel that ‘evacuations must now cease’. This presumably meant that he was prepared to take punitive measures against civilians fleeing from the Red Army.
National Socialist authorities at times treated German refugees almost as badly as concentration camp prisoners. Local administrators, the Kreisleiters, evaded responsibility for them, especially if they were sick. Three goods trains took refugees crammed in open wagons to Schleswig-Holstein. One train alone carried 3,500 people, mainly women and children. ‘These people were in a dreadful state,’ a report stated. ‘They were riddled with lice and had many diseases such as scabies. After the long journey there were still many dead lying in the wagons. Often the contents of the trains were not offloaded at their destination but sent on to another Gau. Apart from that everything is in order in Schleswig-Holstein.’
Hitler himself decided that it would be a good idea to fill the ‘Protectorate’ of occupied Czechoslovakia with German refugees. ‘He is of the opinion,’ explained an official, ‘that if the Czechs see the misery, they will not be tilted into a resistance movement.’ This turned out to be yet another miscalculation of intention and effect. A report came back less than three weeks later warning that the Czechs, on seeing this proof of German defeat, were wasting no time in preparing their own administration, to be led by Benes.
The crisis of National Socialism did not fail to affect the army. Hitler convinced himself that all would be well if a sufficiently ruthless and ideological military leader were appointed to defend the Reich in the east. General Guderian could scarcely believe his ears when Hitler decided on 24 January that Himmler, the Reichsfuhrer SS, was to command the new Army Group Vistula between East Prussia and the remnants of Reinhardt’s shattered army group in Silesia. Hitler’s decision was also no doubt influenced by his threat to Guderian of a few days before to smash ‘the general staff system’, and revenge himself on a ‘group of intellectuals’ who presumed ‘to press their views on their superiors’.
That afternoon, Colonel Hans Georg Eismann of the general staff received orders to proceed to Schneidemuhl. He was to be the chief operations officer at the headquarters of Army Group Vistula. Eismann had never heard of such an army group. The general in charge of staff officer postings explained to him that it had just been constituted. Eismann heard with just as much astonishment as Guderian that Himmler was to be its commander- in-chief.
Eismann had no choice but to set off eastwards that evening by Kubelwagen, the hefty German equivalent of the jeep. As they drove through the freezing night out along Reichsstrasse 1, ‘the whole extent of the chaos and misery’ became clear to him. ‘Along all roads could be seen endless convoys of refugees from the east.’ Most gave an impression of exhausted aimlessness.
Eismann hoped to be able to form a clearer picture of the situation once he reached his destination but, as he soon found, Army Group Vistula headquarters was unlike any other. In Schneidemuhl he asked a military traffic controller the way, but evidently its location was a closely guarded secret. He fortunately spotted Major von Hase, whom he knew, and finally received directions.
The headquarters was established aboard Himmler’s special train, the Sonderzug
Himmler was seated at a writing table in his saloon. When he stood up to welcome his visitor with a handshake, Eismann found that his hand was ‘soft like a woman’s’. Eismann, who had seen him only in pictures or at a distance, studied him carefully. The bespectacled Reichsfuhrer SS was wearing not his usual black SS uniform, but field grey, presumably to emphasize his military role. He was slightly flabby, with an upper body that was too long. His receding chin and narrowed eyes gave him a ‘slightly Mongolian’ look. He led Eismann over to a larger table to study the operations map. Eismann saw that it was at least twenty-four hours out of date.
‘What have we got to close this gap and establish a new front?’ Eismann asked. He was not new to crises exacerbated, if not created, by Fuhrer headquarters. In December 1942, he had been the officer flown into the Stalingrad encirclement on Field Marshal von Manstein’s orders to discuss the situation with General Paulus.
Himmler answered with all the thoughtless cliches of his master: ‘immediate counter-attack’, ‘smash in their flank’ and so on. His replies were devoid of any basic military knowledge. Eismann had the impression ‘that a blind man was speaking about colour’. He then asked what battle-worthy formations they had at their disposal. Himmler had no idea. He seemed unaware of the fact that the Ninth Army virtually existed in name only. Only one thing was clear. The Reichsfuhrer SS did not appreciate direct questions in general staff style.
Army Group Vistula headquarters, it turned out, not only lacked trained staff officers, it also had no supply or transport organization and no signals detachment. The sole means of communication was the chief of staff’s telephone. And apart from the road map which Eismann had brought on his journey from Berlin, the headquarters possessed no more than one map. Even those general staff officers who had experienced earlier disasters still found it hard to fathom the degree of incompetence and irresponsibility of ‘Hitler’s
Himmler, still determined on a counter-attack, wanted to throw together odd regiments and battalions. Eismann suggested a divisional commander, who at least had a staff and communications, to organize it, but Himmler insisted on a corps commander to make it sound impressive. He chose Obergruppenfuhrer Demmlhuber. (Army officers had given Demmlhuber the nickname of ‘Tosca’ after a well-known scent of that name which he was suspected of using.) A makeshift corps staff was assembled and the following day Demmlhuber took over. Demmlhuber, who had more experience than Himmler, was not overjoyed at the task given him. The operation, if it deserved such a name, proved a complete failure, and he became one of the very few Waffen SS generals to be dismissed. This perhaps provoked jokes among opera-lovers on the army general staff that ‘Tosca’ may have been pushed out, but at least he had not had to jump.
Another Waffen SS officer arrived to take over as chief of staff of the army group. This was Brigadefuhrer Lammerding, a former commander of the SS
A Pomeranian Volkssturm battalion on its way to Schneidemuhl by train from Stolp passed Himmler’s
Once they were well away from danger, Puttkamer ordered his men out of the train. He then marched them back to Stolp through the knee-deep snow, with the strongest placed at the front to trample a route for the rest. He refused to allow them to be killed for nothing. On their return, the townspeople greeted him as a hero in the Stephansplatz outside the town hall. But Baron von Puttkamer retired to his house, sick at heart, and put away the old uniform, which had become dishonoured ‘under these Hitlers and Himmlers’.
5. The Charge to the Oder
