ironic that Rundstedt and Galland had been outspoken critics of Hitler’s strategies, with Canaris and Doenitz less than wholeheartedly supportive. The world had truly changed since Hitler’s death. But was it for the better or worse? Time would tell.
Rundstedt continued. “What we have managed to do is salvage an army in France that otherwise might have been encircled and destroyed. We have pulled our troops out of all French coastal enclaves, and those troops along with those of Rommel’s old command-now under Kesselring-are now stiffening our much shorter and rational defensive lines. But stop the Amis at the Seine? No.”
“And why not?” Himmler asked.
“Because the Seine isn’t that much of a river; therefore, not that much of a barrier. Worse, it twists and turns north of Paris which means it’s almost impossible to create a coherent defensive line. Add to that the fact that our army has been badly mauled and stopping the Americans is quite impossible. Our army’s job is to delay the Allies until we can complete construction of the West Wall and, of course, the final defensive line which will be the valley of the Rhine itself. The steep valleys and the wide, deep, and swiftly flowing Rhine will be an impenetrable moat and there we will stop them.”
Himmler was dismayed but not surprised. Von Rundstedt’s draconian strategy meant abandoning the part of Germany west of the Rhine. Cities such as Aachen, where Charlemagne had ruled the Holy Roman Empire a thousand years earlier, would fall to the Allies, as would Koln and Koblenz. Strasbourg, recently recovered and returned to the Reich would also be lost. The Rhineland, also recently recovered and which included the Saar Basin, would be lost again.
Rundstedt read his mind. “What we give up today, Herr Himmler, we will regain tomorrow. We must accept the fact that we bit off more than we could chew in fighting so many enemies, and must pay now with a difficult case of indigestion.”
Himmler shook his head. He wondered how Goebbels would sell this catastrophe to the German people. “That is a disgusting metaphor. Are you through with your reorganization of the army?”
“At least on paper,” he responded. “Commands and commanders have been named, and armies are in the process of being moved to their proper positions.”
Field Marshal Model was in overall command in France, with Field Marshals Kesselring and Manteuffel commanding army groups under him. Manstein was in overall command against the Soviets with three army groups reporting to him commanded by Guderian, von Kluge, and Vietinghoff. Senger commanded the army remaining in Italy guarding the Alpine passes and smaller army groups still existed in the Balkans, Norway, Denmark, and elsewhere. They would be moved to Germany as soon as possible. Himmler admitted the command choices were good ones but had a question.
“Where the devil is Rommel? Do you think he won’t recover from his wounds? Or do you plan on sending him back to North Africa?” Himmler chuckled at his own joke. Only Speer responded with a nervous grin.
Rundstedt answered. “He has a fractured skull and other injuries, but he will recover. For the time being, it does not make sense to include him in our plans since it might be months before he is able to take to the field and be his old dashing self.”
Himmler nodded and smiled to himself. Rommel and Rundstedt couldn’t stand each other. Perhaps this was the older general’s way of banishing the brilliant but abrasive younger one, somewhat like he had isolated Bormann and Goering. Someday soon he would have to do something more definitive than isolation regarding his enemies.
Rundstedt continued. “On a positive note, Albert Speer reports that the emphasis on production of antitank weapons is beginning to pay off. More and more eighty-eight millimeter guns are coming out, also large quantities of ammunition and vast numbers of Panzerfausts. We may not be able to make as many tanks as we would like, but we will soon have a proverbial forest of antitank weapons, and Speer further says we will be able to lay blankets of land mines to protect our armies.”
“Good.” Himmler silently thanked Rundstedt for not making the point that the army had earlier begged for an increase in the production of those and other weapons. But no, the late Fuhrer had insisted on other priorities, like the V1 and V2 rockets.
Reports indicated that, while literally hundreds of V1 rockets had rained down on England, their impact had been relatively insignificant. Werner Von Braun, the young genius in charge of the rocket program, had reported that the RAF had developed tactics to shoot them down. It was quite a disappointment. The soon to be introduced V2 would solve that little problem; it traveled far too fast to be caught. But would it be enough, Himmler wondered.
Admiral Doenitz added that the U-boats sent from the Mediterranean to the Baltic were not performing up to expectations. “American and British convoys are escorted by powerful naval forces. In too many instances our submarines simply cannot get close enough to launch torpedoes, and, when aggressive captains tried, their boats were sunk.”
The shifting of armies had been largely successful, Rundstedt added. Much had been done under cover of night when the Allies were blind. Speer’s engineers had built temporary sidings in a number of places where trains could be pulled off and hidden during the day.
Like the navy, the Luftwaffe had accomplished little. German planes were being swept from the sky by hordes of American fighters. Galland said that the Luftwaffe’s only hope was the ME262, a jet that was vastly superior to anything the Allies had.
“Unfortunately,” Galland said, “There are far too few of them and we don’t have enough jet fuel to keep them in the air for very long.”
“Which brings me to an uncomfortable point,” Rundstedt said and Himmler noticed that Galland and Doenitz were looking at each other in dismay. “Both the Luftwaffe and the Kriegsmarine have large numbers of personnel doing very little since they have neither planes nor ships. I propose that our few remaining surface ships be stripped of men, guns, armor, and anything else useful and put to work elsewhere.
“The same with the Luftwaffe,” he continued. “We have literally dozens of bases with no planes. At worst, those personnel currently loitering at them can be utilized as infantry, although that would be as a last resort. They will be more useful as antiarmor and antiaircraft defenders. Of course, those Luftwaffe personnel needed for existing planes and the new jets will be retained.”
To Himmler’s surprise, there were no objections from Doenitz or Galland. Had he been there, Goering would have had a tantrum at the partial dismantling of his precious and now almost irrelevant Luftwaffe.
Yes, he thought, something must be done about Goering. And Bormann.
The morning drizzle had turned to a steady, driving rain. Nazi weather, the men of the 74th called it. The rain meant that the dirt roads had turned to deep mud that even the tracked vehicles found difficult, and the far more numerous wheeled vehicles found impassible. As a result, the regiment was effectively stalled.
Rain also meant that nothing was in the air, including American fighter-bombers and, of course, Morgan’s patched up Piper Cub. Leach was in a hospital and would recover; however, his return to the regiment was problematic at best. Rear echelon duty looked to be in his future. It was almost as good as a wound requiring a medical discharge, the proverbial “million dollar” wound.
PFC Snyder was now Jack’s copilot but only after a very serious discussion. When initially tapped for the job, Snyder had flatly refused, even though disobeying a direct order might mean a court-martial and even jail time.
“At least I’d be alive, sir. With nothing but the highest respects for you as an officer and a pilot, what you have there is a flying coffin for the back seat driver. Think about it, Captain. If it’d been you who was hit, Leach would have been helpless. All he could have done was ride the thing down to the ground, screaming and praying and calling for his mother. No sir, and again with profoundest respects, what that plane requires is a set of dual controls so the back seat guy stands at least some chance of landing that thing. You get those built and I’ll gladly volunteer. If not, no thank you, sir.”
Since it had only been the two of them talking, Snyder was on fairly safe ground with his near insubordination. More important, he’d been right. While Sergeant Major Rolfe and the mechanics were fixing and cleaning the plane, Jack had them rig a set of controls for what Morgan now referred to as his copilot. He also had
