Hitler's Last Day: Minute By Minute - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Encounters like John Eisenhower's were common in the final days of the war. Many soldiers had to make snap decisions about the German soldiers they encountered. Lieutenant Colonel David Niven of the Rifle Brigade (and Hollywood) was driving his jeep through the countryside near Brunswick when he pa.s.sed a farm wagon with two men sitting behind the horse with sacks on their backs as protection from the rain. Niven slammed on his brakes. One of them was wearing army boots. Niven pulled out his revolver, walked up to the cart and told the men to put their hands up and get their papers out. The man with the boots didn't have any papers.
'Who are you?' Niven asked.
The man gave a name and said he was a general. Instinctively, Niven saluted and told them they could put their hands down.
'Where are you coming from, sir?'
'Berlin,' the General replied wearily.
'Where are you going, sir?'
'Home, it's not far now... only one more kilometre.'
After a long pause Niven said, 'Go ahead, sir, but please cover up your b.l.o.o.d.y boots.'
The General closed his eyes, sobbed, and the wagon moved on. Years later, David Niven told friends that he wondered if it had been Martin Bormann.
In the makes.h.i.+ft hospital in Konigsberg camp, medical orderly Erika Frolich has won the friends.h.i.+p of the Polish lady who distributes the food in the hospital. As a result people are receiving generous portions. Dr Hans Graf von Lehndorff reckons Erika probably diagnosed the woman's medical condition she's certainly managed to find some pills for her from somewhere and has earned her grat.i.tude.
Von Lehndorff watches as Erika hands out soup in metal army bowls to her patients and the medical staff. More sick people are arriving all the time including some Russian soldiers.
Von Lehndorff tries to remain calm, despite the constant demands and the impatience of the Russians who are never happy with anything. In a small room nearby is a woman Erika has been looking after, who is about to give birth to twins.
On the lawn in front of the camp's main building, about 50 prisoners are marking out two large Soviet stars in the gra.s.s for the May Day celebrations tomorrow. One star is being made out of red pansies planted in the soil, the other made with brick dust.
Two hundred miles to the south in the town of Garmisch, the world-famous composer Richard Strauss is arguing with an American major named Kramers. The US army arrived in the Bavarian town this morning and immediately started looking for places where their troops could be billeted. Strauss's large house would be perfect for their officers. Kramers' men have already started moving furniture out and even Strauss's ill wife has had to move from her room.
Strauss is 81 and his grandson, also called Richard, begs him not to get himself worked up, but he is persisting.
'I am Richard Strauss, the composer of Rosenkavalier and Salome,' he says to Kramers. This has the desired effect the Major stops what he's doing and shakes the composer's hand. He a.s.sures Strauss that he and his family will be left alone.
The war has been a difficult time for Richard Strauss. In 1924 his son Franz married Alice von Grab, who is Jewish. Franz and Alice had two sons, Richard and Christian. Strauss tried unsuccessfully to rescue Alice's mother from Theresienstadt concentration camp, and then in 1944 Franz and Alice were arrested by the Gestapo. Strauss intervened to save them, agreeing to keep them at his home under house arrest. In his diary at the end of the war he wrote, 'The most terrible period of human history is at an end, the 12-year reign of b.e.s.t.i.a.lity, ignorance and anti-culture under the greatest criminals...'
We have already given away whatever we had in our pockets that was edible or smokable. We can do nothing for these half-dead people except find out what is going on, let them know we care, and then look for help.'
Lieutenant Marcus J. Smith
11.15am
In Berlin, the ox is lying in a pool of blood. It's surrounded by men, women and children shouting and screaming as they fight for the meat. Some have brought buckets to take away their spoils. No sooner had the beast been slaughtered than people began to emerge out of the rubble. Ruth Andreas-Friedrich wonders if they could smell the blood. She stands back, watching.
'The liver belongs to me!' someone growls.
'The tongue is mine! The tongue is mine!' someone else shouts as five people try to pull it out of the ox's throat.
Ruth walks away feeling utterly miserable. She writes later today in her diary, 'So that is what the hour of liberation amounts to. Is this the moment we have awaited for 12 years? That we might fight over an ox's liver?'
In the prison hospital at Dachau, medical officer Lieutenant Marcus J. Smith has met some of the inmates who volunteered as doctors, and are doing what they can with primitive and inadequate supplies. They are weak and confused. One is a Spanish doctor who has been in Dachau since the Spanish Civil War. Another, a French doctor who served in the trenches in the First World War, showed Smith how to recognise typhus fever something he has never seen before.
Smith is thinking about lines from John Milton's Paradise Lost: With shuddering horror pale, and eyes aghast View'd first their lamentable lot, and found No rest... shades of death...
Where all life dies, death lives...
Abominable, inutterable, and worse...
With the support of the tank fire and the heavy artillery that has arrived over Moltke Bridge into the heart of the capital, the 150th Rifle Division have reached the moat surrounding the Reichstag.
'You're on fire, sir. May I put you out?'
About 11.30am/12.30pm UK time
At Chequers, Churchill is still in bed working, surrounded by papers and smoking a cigar. He's dictating to Marian Holmes one of his secretaries. Marian suddenly smells burning and it's not the cigar. John Peck, another of the duty secretaries, comes in and starts pointing frantically at the Prime Minister. Cigar ash has set light to the lapel of his bedjacket, and Churchill is so absorbed in his work he hasn't noticed.
John Peck says, 'You're on fire, sir. May I put you out?'
'Yes, do,' Churchill replies unconcerned.
Churchill's habit of working in bed could be off-putting for his staff. Lieutenant Commander Baird-Murray, who worked in Churchill's Map Room, recalled, 'It was sometimes disconcerting when reporting to him at 8am as he lay in bed, as Nelson, his big black cat, was usually jumping about on the bed playing with his toes moving about under the blanket, but nevertheless no detail however small escaped him.'
Composer Richard Strauss is at the piano of his house in Garmisch playing a waltz from Rosenkavalier. His audience consists of American soldiers, who shortly before were clearing out the house to make it into an army billet, but are now holding signed photographs of Strauss and enjoying the delightful music.
In the Fuhrerbunker Eva Hitler is dressed, made up, ready, at a loose end. She asks Traudl Junge to come into her room. 'I can't bear to be alone with my thoughts.'
It's hard to know what to talk about. They try to remember happier times. The spring in their home town of Munich. Eva Hitler suddenly leaps up and opens her wardrobe. She pulls out a silver fox fur which has been one of her favourite coats. She holds it towards Traudl Junge. 'Frau Junge, I'd like to give you this coat as a goodbye present.' She fondles the soft fur. 'I always love seeing well-dressed women. I like the thought of you wearing it I want you to have it now and enjoy it.' She holds the coat open and Junge slips her arms into the sleeves and pulls it around her. 'Thank you,' she says. She feels very moved, though she can't imagine where and when she might wear it.
The Commander-in-Chief of the Dutch armed forces, Prince Bernhard of the Netherlands, is being driven through the streets of a small town named Achterveld, just a few miles inside Allied lines. The Prince is married to Juliana, the heir to the Dutch throne; many of the streets have Dutch flags flying as today is her birthday. Some people are leaning out of their windows shouting greetings to him.
'How's the Princess?'
'It's good to see you again!'
The Prince is heading for St Josef's School, where a meeting will take place that will decide the fate of the Dutch people.
Two days ago a meeting at St Josef's between the Allied delegation led by Major-General Sir Francis de Guingand, and the German delegation led by Ernst Schwebel, reached an agreement that the Germans would not fire on Allied planes dropping food to the starving Dutch. Since yesterday morning, Operation Manna has been progressing well, with about a thousand tons of food dropped on four designated zones marked by white crosses and red lights.
Also making his way to St Josef's is the man who today will lead the German delegation to hammer out the terms of the truce: the hated Reich Commissioner in the Netherlands, Arthur Seyss-Inquart. In 1939 Hitler appointed him Deputy Governor of Poland, where he enthusiastically persecuted the country's Jewish population. In Holland he oversaw the deportation of thousands of Dutch Jews to concentration camps, and 400,000 people to Germany as labourers. In the past few weeks the killing has continued, with the SS carrying out ma.s.s public executions, while Seyss-Inquart has been trying to save his own skin by negotiating a separate peace with the Allies.
Earlier in April, to Seyss-Inquart's fury, the Dutch resistance stole his car, with its distinctive number plate RK1 (Reichskommissar 1). What he doesn't yet know is that Prince Bernhard, who spotted it last night in a nearby town, is currently being driven in it.
Tomorrow is 1st May, and I shall sign off this letter to you, and meanwhile the guns are thundering here, they're making things good and hot for the Fritzes... there's no time to sleep, we're hammering and hammering away at them, luckily we have no shortage of sh.e.l.ls.
Pyotor Zevelyov, a Russian soldier
11.45am
Hitler shuffles along the corridor to the telephone switchboard. He pauses in the doorway. Misch stands up, awaiting orders, but there are none. Without saying anything, the Fuhrer turns away and shuffles back to his room.
Midday
Seyss-Inquart is arriving at St Josef's School. The Reich Commissioner can't believe his eyes. Prince Bernhard is taking photographs leaning against his own precious, stolen RK1 car.
Hitler summons the military staff for the daily situation conference. General Weidling, Commandant of Berlin, leads the briefing. He is very pessimistic.
'Munition is running out. Air supplies have become impossible. Morale is very low. Fighting only continues in the city centre. The battle of Berlin will be over by evening.'
A week ago Hitler sent out an order for Weidling, then commanding a Panzer division, to be captured and executed by firing squad for retreating in the face of the enemy. Weidling learned of this when he telephoned the bunker to report, after two days without telephone communication. General Krebs, sitting in the report office, informed him 'with conspicuous coldness' that he had been condemned to death for treason and cowardice. Weidling's reaction was to make his way straight to the Fuhrerbunker to protest his innocence to Hitler in person. Hitler was so impressed by Weidling's bravery in coming to see him that he not only cancelled the execution order, but also made Weidling Commandant of Berlin.
Hitler is silent for a long time. Then he turns to General Mohnke, who, at six that morning, had suggested there might be 24 hours left. In a weary voice Hitler asks Mohnke his view. Mohnke nods heavily. He agrees with Weidling. Hitler pushes himself slowly out of his chair.
Weidling asks permission to ask a final question. If they run out of ammunition, will the Fuhrer give permission for the remaining soldiers to attempt a breakout from the city? Hitler turns to General Krebs. Krebs agrees that permission to break out should be given. Hitler then orders it to be confirmed in writing, that small numbers can attempt to break out so long as it is clear that Berlin will never surrender.
In Prague rumours that the Allies are approaching the city take hold and the people start crowding in the streets to welcome them. Karl Hermann Frank, n.a.z.i head of police, gives orders for the streets to be cleared. Anyone who refuses to leave the streets is to be shot.
It is the beginning of a week of tension before the Prague Uprising in which 1,694 civilians and almost 1,000 German soldiers will die in three days. The Germans will regain the city on 8th May, only to surrender to the Soviet Army a day later.
Yelena Rzhevskaya of the SMERSH Russian intelligence unit is waiting in the centre of Berlin for the Reich Chancellery to be captured. She talks to a young woman with a thin little boy. The woman's husband was sent to the front two years ago. She hasn't seen him since. She can't stop talking about him and Rzhevskaya can see how this upsets the boy, who is making 'painful grimaces'. The woman is at a loss. For a long time she coped with her husband's absence by making a list of jobs for him to do when he got home replacing a door handle, a window catch in their apartment. Now her entire apartment block has been destroyed by sh.e.l.ling.
It was fun being in Germany proper. After five negative years we were at last bringing the war into the country of the people who had started it. If you sh.e.l.led a house because there was a machine-gunner in it, it was a German house and no longer did some wretched French or Dutch family go homeless.
John Stirling, 4th/7th Royal Dragoon Guards Many of the British troops fighting in Holland and Germany are veterans of several b.l.o.o.d.y campaigns. Twenty-six-year-old gunnery officer Jack Swaab of the 51st Highland Division has seen action in Tunisia, Sicily and Normandy. He's in a tent on the outskirts of Bremen, which surrendered to the British four days ago, updating a diary he's kept since 1942. He can't be too overt about it as diaries are a breach of regulations. Over the last few months Swaab has recorded his impressions of the German population ('there seem to be so many children... it makes me nervous to see them seeing in them the seeds of another war...'); the morale boost of seeing a British newspaper ('you don't realise how well you're doing until the Daily Mail tells you!'); and the hidden dangers ('the budding of the trees holds a menace here... the forests are still sheltering deserters, saboteurs...') Swaab is feeling low he's ill and therefore 'LOB' (left out of battle), and yesterday Jerry Sheil, one of the division's finest commanding officers, was killed. Brigadier Sheil was returning from a military conference in a village near Bremen and had swapped places with his driver, who was feeling tired. Their jeep went over a mine the driver survived, but Sheil was killed.
Swaab is writing, 'What utterly b.l.o.o.d.y luck on a man who'd come all the way from Alamein without a scratch. What good people we are losing in these final stages. Milan and Venice taken, the Russians and ourselves converging on Lubeck, Hitler reportedly dying of a stroke...'
Swaab has had some news he should be home on leave by 8th May.
'Leaving the battery on the 5th... sent C. no.68 last night telling her.' (His letters to his girlfriend Clare are all numbered in case they are delivered out of sequence.) Jack Swaab does indeed get home on 8th May VE Day. After sailing in the morning from Calais, by the afternoon he is celebrating on the streets of London. Exactly three years to the day he would get married but not to Clare.
Independently working among the British troops already in Bremen are members of an elite team known as T-Force (T standing for Target; the unit disapproved of by 30 a.s.sault Unit's Patrick Dalzel-Job). Their mission is to capture the non-naval technological secrets of n.a.z.i Germany before the Russians do, and to ascertain what secret weapons may have been pa.s.sed on to the j.a.panese.
The last five years of warfare have shown just how technologically advanced the Germans are not just in producing V2 rockets and V1 flying bombs, but also jet fighters, infra-red gun sights and chemical weapons.
Like 30 a.s.sault Unit, T-Force is the brainchild of Ian Fleming of Naval Intelligence. He sits on the committees that decide T-Force's targets and the order in which they should be captured, listing them in the so-called 'Black Books' issued to the unit's officers. Fleming will later use elements of the exploits of T-Force in his Bond novels, particularly in Moonraker, published in 1955.
In the past few weeks T-Force have uncovered a uranium research laboratory hidden within a silk factory, and the German army's Anti-Gas Defence School close to Bergen-Belsen, where chemical sh.e.l.ls were tested. They found hastily vacated laboratories with notebooks still open on desks, and photographs that showed that the chemists had been testing out their inventions on the inmates of Bergen-Belsen. One T-Force member wrote, 'It certainly seemed that we were winning the war not a moment too soon.'
Since Bremen surrendered on the 26th, the men of T-Force have been scouring the ruins of the city. Over the past three days, T-Force have blown open 95 safes in their search for doc.u.ments and caches of money. Often when the safes blow, billions of marks are sent fluttering into the air and down onto the soldiers, who are under strict instructions not to keep any. This order is not always obeyed.
About 12.30pm
Eva Hitler is in her bathroom with Liesl, choosing her final outfit.
The Goebbels children are playing in their bedroom. Magda Goebbels is lying on her bed.
Hitler sends for Martin Bormann, his private secretary, to come to his study. Bormann, who has already started the day's drinking, stands before the Fuhrer in the crumpled suit he slept in.
Hitler begins, 'The time has come. Fraulein Braun and I will end our lives this afternoon.' He never called her Frau Hitler. 'I am giving Gunsche instructions to cremate our bodies.'
It is the conclusion Bormann has dreaded. He has made every effort to persuade the Fuhrer to escape to Obersalzberg, but now he can only accept the inevitable end.
Claus Sellier and Fritz have at last arrived at their final destination. For six days the two young Mountain Artillery officers have been on a mission to deliver vital doc.u.ments. 'Guard them with your lives!' the commanding officer of their training school had told them. The army provision headquarters in Traunstein is deserted. At the gate there is an elderly cigarette-smoking guard who tells them that the base closed last week, and that today is his last day on duty. There is no one to receive Claus's doc.u.ments.
Claus walks through the complex with its neat rows of tents, blankets, shoes and uniforms. In one room he disturbs a group of civilians helping themselves to equipment, who then flee through a hole in the fence.
The farmer who drove them to Traunstein can't believe there is so much in the stores. 'Is all this unprotected? There's enough stuff for an army... I'm glad that I brought you!'