They would not accept a new political settlement unless Germany imposed it on them with military force.
Already, there were sporadic border skirmishes with French troops in our sector of the front as well as occasional clashes between the Luftwaffe and enemy aircraft. If ordered to fight a full-scale war, we were confident in our ability to conduct operations rapidly and efficiently. Rather than another long stalemate in the trenches like Germany had endured in France during the Great War, everyone expected that a new campaign in the west would be rapid, following the model of the recently conducted war against Poland.
As the weather grew warmer that spring, the mood among the troops around me was one of anxious anticipation. Though motivated by love of country and possessing a sense of pride in our company, regiment, and division, we would quickly learn that the most basic priorities in combat were simply to obey orders and look out for ourselves and our comrades.
Chapter 5
WAR IN THE WEST
WE BEGAN THE WAR AS SPECTATORS early on a bright May 10th morning. In the sky high above our bunkers, German pilots engaged their French and British opponents, putting on an aerial display that we observed with fascination. The chatter of their machine guns resonated to us on the ground as the planes chased and dodged each other in a relentless duel for position.
When an aircraft spun down from the sky in flames there was applause for the victor of the dogfight, as if we were at a sporting event, despite our inability to discern whether the loser had been the enemy. Within a short time, five or six planes came down, some as close as three or four miles from us. Only then did word reach us that some of the burning wrecks were German, quickly sobering our mood.
After moving up to the frontier with France, the 58th Division directed a small force to cross the Moselle River just south of Luxemburg. The detachment’s subsequent frontal assault against a short sector of France’s heavily fortified Maginot Line may have accomplished some larger strategic purpose, but it did so only at the cost of heavy casualties among the attackers. On May 18, our division was relieved by other German forces and moved back to the rear.
This operation reflects the contrast between our approach to military objectives in France and the conduct of our future operations. In France, we simply followed orders as we had been trained. If commanded to seize a position by a certain time, we typically would attack the objective in a head-on manner, suffering heavy casualties in the process.
Later in the war, our officers generally would not carry out operations until first determining the most efficient tactical approach and the type of support necessary to minimize infantry casualties. These types of deliberations occurred to some extent in France, but the old Prussian attitude of “Do it” prevailed more often.
Two days after pulling back toward Orscholz, our division crossed into Luxembourg strung out in a long procession of men, horses, and vehicles. The most common type of vehicle in our company was a squad supply wagon, pulled by two horses. Hauling our personal belongings such as clothes and food, these wagons allowed us to march with only our rifles and ammunition. Despite being freed of the backpacks, water can, gas mask, and other gear that we would have carried in the field, long treks on foot were still exhausting.
To get off our feet, most of us managed to grab a temporary seat on a supply wagon or somewhere on a Protze. This was a combination of two separate two-wheeled carriages, one which carried ammunition and one on which the gun crew rode, with the howitzer towed behind. While a Protze with the 75-millimeter howitzer required four horses, a Protze with the far heavier 150-millimeter howitzer needed a complement of six horses.
As was the privilege of every company commander, Rittmeister Reincke rode a horse that had its own designated handler, but most handlers were responsible for the care of four or five horses. This added up to a substantial amount of manpower given the number of horses involved.
In order to obtain an adequate number of horses in the period leading up to the war, the Wehrmacht requisitioned them from farms all over Germany, with some farms having to surrender up to half their stock. Because the requisition was supposedly a temporary measure that would only last for the duration of what was expected to be a short conflict, farmers received no compensation. Not surprisingly, the Wehrmacht ceased such unpopular measures as soon as it could obtain horses from conquered territories.
Our rapid march through Luxemburg’s immaculate towns and villages soon took us into southern Belgium, allowing us to pass well north of the Maginot Line. Despite signs of much prior activity on the roads, we were unaware that only a few days earlier German Panzer divisions had broken through the French defenses in this same area.
These armored formations were now approaching the English Channel far to the west, completely undermining the French and British position. The French campaign had already been won in a strategic sense, but there was still another month of fighting ahead.
At the end of an 80-mile march over five days, the 209th and 220th Regiments of our division entered France on May 23, taking up a position on the frontline about 10 miles southeast of the city of Sedan. Replacing other German units, these regiments spread out in the four-mile-wide area between the French towns of Carignan and Mouzon. Meanwhile, the 154th Regiment was temporarily held behind as a reserve force on the north side of the Meuse River at Arlon in Belgium, until we could be relieved by other German forces.
Once our regiment reached the front, I learned how bitter the initial fighting had been. Advancing into action, our division had confronted ferocious resistance from a French-Algerian division from North Africa. In what proved the 58th’s toughest combat of the campaign, these Algerian troops were firing down at our infantry from concealed positions up in the trees. To make progress, our infantry had to deploy snipers and spray machine-gun fire into the trees. In some cases, they even used flamethrowers to burn the Algerians out.
During these types of battles, the front often became fluid, intermingling our troops with the enemy’s forces. In such circumstances, a regiment’s heavy gun company could not safely employ the fire support of its howitzers. Instead, the infantry would have to rely on the division’s long-range artillery to hammer the French rear areas in order to prevent enemy reinforcements from reaching the front.
By May 25 our regiment had marched the 45 miles from Arlon, reaching the division’s new frontline in the French town of Beaumonten-Argonne. That afternoon, I received orders from Staff Sergeant Ehlert to carry a message on foot to one of our units posted on the front. My objective was the small village of Pouilly-sur-Meuse, situated in a valley on the banks of the Meuse River about three miles to the west of Beaumont-en-Argonne.
There was no hesitation or deliberation on my part; an order was simply obeyed without question. Generally more gung-ho than most of the other members of my platoon, I was anxious to prove myself in combat, though my enthusiasm was tempered by a certain apprehension since I did not know what to expect.
The road to the village ran down a hill bereft of any tree cover, leaving me fully exposed to enemy observation and artillery fire. As I proceeded forward down the slope, there was no one else in sight. Spotting my movement, French artillery almost immediately opened up. Hearing the first round streaking toward the hill, I lunged into a drainage ditch beside the road just before the shell exploded about 100 yards ahead of me.
Later, I would learn how to interpret the sound of a shell’s whistle through the air to determine its proximity and actual threat. In Russia, I would have said, “One hundred yards away, let them shoot.” In my first encounter with enemy shellfire, however, everything sounded dangerously close.
Shells continued to impact to the right and left of me, with the closest landing perhaps 50 yards away. Each time I heard the whistle of another incoming round, I would jump back down into the drainage ditch that ran beside the road. If all remained quiet for a minute, I would leap to my feet and make a crouched run until I heard the sound of the next shell. Repeating this process more than a dozen times, it took me about an hour and a half to
