Margival, north of Soissons, which had been set up in 1940 for the invasion of England. Hitler “looked pale and sleepless,” Rommel’s chief of staff, General Speidel, wrote. “He played nervously with his glasses and with pencils of all colors, which he held in his hand. He was the only one seated, hunched on a stool, while the field marshals were kept standing. His earlier magnetic force seemed gone. After a brief, frosty greeting he started shouting, bitterly expressing his displeasure at the successful landing of the Allies and trying to find fault with the local commanders.”
Rommel pointed out the enormous enemy superiority. Hitler rejected that excuse, as he rejected, too, the request for permission to withdraw the threatened German forces from the Cotentin Peninsula and to bring up the reserves from the Pas de Calais. Instead, Hitler expatiated with increasing emphasis upon the “decisive” effect of the secret “V” weapons, and promised “masses of turbo fighters” that would drive the enemy from the skies and at last force England to her knees. When Rommel attempted to turn the discussion to political questions and to insist, in view of the grave situation, on steps toward ending the war, Hitler brusquely interrupted him. “Don’t you worry about the continuance of the war, but about your invasion front,” he said.9
The antipathies that emerged in the course of this meeting intensified Hitler’s already strong distrust of the officer corps. Significantly, shortly before his arrival he had had the area ringed by SS units, and during the one- dish meal with von Rundstedt and Rommel he started to eat only after the food had been tasted. Throughout the meal two SS men were posted behind his chair. Before they parted the generals tried to persuade Hitler to come to Rommel’s headquarters and listen to the reports of several frontline commanders. Reluctantly, Hitler agreed to come on June 19. But shortly after Rundstedt and Rommel had left Margival, he himself returned to Berchtesgaden.10
Within ten days the Allies had landed nearly a million men and 500,000 tons of materiel. But even now, after calling on Hitler in Berchtesgaden, the field marshals could not persuade him to yield them so much as freedom of decision in operational matters. Icily, he listened to their representations and ignored their request for a talk in a small group. Instead, he abruptly relieved von Rundstedt of his post. He appointed Field Marshal von Kluge to succeed him.
Kluge’s first appearance at the front made it plain how deceptive and distorted the image of reality had become in Hitler’s entourage. Kluge had just spent two weeks as a guest at the Berghof, and in spite of his critical if vacillating attitude toward Hitler, he had become imbued with the view that the leadership of the troops in the West was suffering from a failure of nerve and defeatism. On his arrival at the invasion front, he reproached Rommel in a heated argument with being unduly impressed by the enemy’s material superiority and therefore blocking Hitler’s justified orders. Furious at the commander in chief’s “Berchtesgaden style,” Rommel challenged him to go to the front and see for himself. As could be expected, two days later Kluge returned from his visit to the front considerably sobered. On July 15 Rommel, by way of Kluge, addressed a teletype message to Hitler: “The unequal struggle is nearing its end,” he wrote, and concluded with a demand: “I must ask you immediately to draw the necessary conclusions from this situation.” To General Speidel he remarked: “If he [Hitler] draws no conclusions, we shall act.”11
Stauffenberg was also bent on taking action—all the more so since it appeared that the entire Eastern front was also breaking under the impact of the Soviet summer offensive. A fortunate circumstance had arisen: on June 20 Stauffenberg had been appointed chief of staff to General Friedrich Fromm, commander of the army reserve (sometimes called the home army), and thus had admission to the military conferences in the Fuhrer’s headquarters. Upon taking office on July 1 he had told Fromm that he must in fairness inform him he was planning a
On July 6 and 11 Stauffenberg had been summoned to conferences in the Fuhrer’s headquarters at the Berghof. After so many fiascos he had now resolved to undertake both the assassination and the leadership of the coup personally. On both occasions he had taken a package of explosives with him and had arranged for his immediate return to Berlin. But he had both times given up his plan since neither Goring nor Himmler, whom he intended to eliminate simultaneously, was present in the conference room. Another attempt on July 15 miscarried because Stauffenberg found no opportunity to set the ignition mechanism before the beginning of the conference, On July 11 and July 15 the troops that were to occupy Berlin had been placed on emergency footing; both times the undertaking had to be called off and all elements of suspicion eliminated.
On July 17, two days after the last attempt, the conspirators learned that an order for Goerdeler’s arrest was pending. Unlike the cases of Leber, Reichwein, Moltke, and Bonhoeffer, they felt that Goerdeler was not the sort of person who would be able to keep silent under Gestapo interrogation. Stauffenberg took this information as the final mandate for action; the Rubicon had now been crossed, he remarked. That same day Rommel was severely wounded, thus putting one of the key figures in Stauffenberg’s game out of commission. For the field marshal enjoyed great prestige among the Allies, and the latest idea had been to have him obtain an armistice in the West, evacuate the occupied areas, and use the returning armies to support the coup. Nevertheless, Stauffenberg refused to be deterred at this point. He would now act no matter what the circumstances, he declared, but added that this would be his last attempt.
A few days earlier the Fuhrer’s headquarters had again been transferred from Berchtesgaden back to Rastenburg. The convoy stood ready to depart and everyone had already gone to their cars when Hitler turned back once more and re-entered the Berghof. He stepped into the salon, stood a while in front of the big window, and then walked about the room with slow, uncertain steps. For a few moments he lingered in front of Anselm Feuerbach’s
Stauffenberg had an appointment to report in Rastenburg on July 20.
The assassination attempt and the dramatic events of that day have been frequently described: the sudden shift of the conference to a barrack whose thin walls did not confine the explosion; Stauffenberg’s belated arrival, after he had been surprised in an adjacent building while he was setting the time fuse with a pair of pliers; the search for Stauffenberg immediately after he had placed the bomb under the heavy map table and left the room; the explosion as Hitler, leaning over the table and propping his chin in his hand followed General Heusinger’s report on the map. Stauffenberg stood beside his readied car some distance away and observed a huge cloud of smoke rise up over the barrack, wood and paper whirl through the air, and people rushing out of the shattered building. Then, certain that Hitler was dead, he made his escape and flew to Berlin, while much precious time passed.
Like everyone else in the room, Hitler had experienced the explosion as an “infernally bright darting flame” and a deafening crash. When he got up out of the burning, smoking debris with blackened face and the back of his head singed, Keitel came running toward him, shouting, “Where is the Fuhrer?” and helped him get out of the room. Hitler’s trousers hung in shreds; he was covered with dust, but only lightly injured. He had escaped with slight bleeding at his right, elbow, and a few trivial bruises on the back of his left hand; and although both his eardrums had been ruptured, he suffered some loss of hearing only for a short time. The injuries to his legs were the worst; many splinters of wood had been driven into the flesh. But at the same time he discovered to his surprise that the trembling in his left leg had largely ceased. Of the twenty-four persons who had been in the room at the time of the explosion, only four were severely injured. A prime factor in protecting Hitler had been the heavy table top he was leaning over at the moment of detonation. He was excited, but at the same time seemed curiously relieved. Repeatedly, and with some satisfaction, he told his retinue that he had long known of a conspiracy and now at last he could unmask the traitors. He displayed his tattered trousers like a trophy and did the same with his jacket, which had a square hole ripped out of the back.13
His calm derived principally from the sense of a “miraculous rescue.” It was as if he owed to this treacherous act his reinforced sense of his own mission. That, at any rate, was his interpretation of the event when Mussolini arrived in Rastenburg in the afternoon for a previously announced visit. As they looked at the devastated conference room, Hitler said: “When I call it ali to mind again, I conclude… that nothing is fated to happen to me, all the more so since this isn’t the first time I’ve miraculously escaped death…. After my rescue from the peril of death today I am more than ever convinced that I am destined to carry on our great common cause to a happy conclusion.”
Obviously impressed, Mussolini added: “This was a sign from heaven.”14
In the course of the afternoon, however, his self-mastery was to give way. Toward five o’clock Hider and
