The End
By this time, there was a chance to do so. The first trains bursting with refugees were already arriving in Berlin from Silesia. An open lorry reached the city packed with children, many of them dead after ninety-six hours exposed to the extreme cold.67 ‘Columns of lorries crowded with refugees and luggage in bags and sacks roll through the Berlin streets,’ wrote the Berlin correspondent of a Swedish newspaper on 24 January in a dispatch that came into Allied hands. ‘The invasion of Berlin by the refugees is now so striking that the population of the Reich capital has fully realised how the eastern danger is tempestuously approaching the frontiers and Berlin itself.’68
In a city preoccupied with its own problems – a transport system near collapse, food and coal shortages, electricity cuts, constant worries about air raids – the refugees were not universally welcomed. Few wanted to share their often already overcrowded apartments or meagre food rations.69 Porters at the main stations were apparently reluctant to help those leaving the trains; some people complained, probably unfairly, that National Socialist ‘sisters’ preferred their warm rooms to helping the new arrivals (though their aid and that of other Party organizations was often acknowledged by the refugees); there were worries about the lack of food, especially milk for infants, and complaints that ‘we have so little, and now there are all these refugees’. By the end of the month, the city was teeming with the incomers, who poured out their anger and bitterness regardless of the consequences. There was enormous resentment at Party functionaries who had saved themselves first, shown little interest in others, not given warnings in time, and managed to find places in trains leaving for the Reich.70 ‘Those who have lost everything also lose their fear,’ an observer remarked. The police temporarily refrained from intervening.71
The stories of the refugees had, unsurprisingly, a depressing effect on Berliners. There was a widespread fear that once the Red Army seized the Upper Silesian industrial region the war was as good as lost. People asked repeatedly where the long-awaited ‘wonder weapons’ meant to turn the tide of war were, and why they were not being used against the Russians after they had been so much talked and written about. There was frank disbelief that they existed; they were seen as no more than a figment of propaganda. Even if the Red Army could be halted, there was scepticism that Germany would be in a position to go on the offensive again. And people regarded as mere propaganda the claim that the Soviets had expended their last forces and were incapable of a new offensive of their own.72 When, on the morning of 3 February, some 1,500 American planes dropped over 2,000 tons of bombs on Berlin in the heaviest raid of the war on the Reich capital, leaving 5,000 dead, injured or missing, the fate of the stricken population in the east took a back seat as panic temporarily gripped the city. However, reports of the continued Soviet advance in the east prompted great anxiety and talk about an evacuation of Berlin – worries sharpened by the erection of roadblocks. Sarcastic wits asked with black humour how long it would take the Red Army to pass through the roadblocks. The answer to the joke was an hour and five minutes: an hour to laugh at the barricades and five minutes to demolish them.73
The population was said to be under no illusions about the consequences of a lost war ‘and what those can expect who fall into the hands of the Russians. People basically agree, therefore, that it’s better to fight on to the last drop of blood and accept all deprivations rather than lose the war or surrender prematurely.’74 The sense of fighting to the last was certainly not shared by all. For many, perhaps most, a fatalistic mood prevailed. ‘Don’t think too much, do your duty and have faith. The German will master this Huns’ storm,’ wrote one woman to a friend based with the Luftwaffe in East Prussia.75 According to the recollections of a foreign journalist who experienced life in the German capital at the time, intensified restrictions and controls, transport difficulties and worsening food supplies, constant fear of the bombs and worries about the future, prompted many to look to escapism, often in drink.76 But the reported determination to hold out did signify an important strain of opinion which had been underpinned by the reports of the atrocities in the east. Unlike the situation in the west, where there was no great fear of British or American occupation, the justified dread of what defeat at the hands of the Soviets would bring was a significant component in support for continuing the fight in the east, especially among those most directly threatened.
By this time, belief in Hitler had waned so strongly that it had little to do with any continued readiness to fight on among the civilian population. A eulogistic article on New Year’s Eve by Goebbels in Das Reich, the prominent Berlin weekly, lauding Hitler’s ‘genius’, had been strongly criticized, according to the SD in Stuttgart. In the light of what had happened, people were saying, ‘the Führer is either not that genius depicted by Goebbels, or he had intentionally unleashed this world conflagration.’ Some were looking back at what Hitler had written in Mein Kampf, where ‘twenty years ago he had pointed out his aims. There are people who are prepared to claim that there lies the origin of the war’. The conclusion was drawn by many that ‘the Führer had worked for war from the very beginning’.77
A spark of lingering faith in his powers had, nevertheless, not been totally extinguished. Some refugees in Berlin apparently said ‘that the Führer would soon lead them back again into their homeland’, and it was claimed, in standard propaganda fashion, that ‘faith in the Führer is so great that even a small success quickly improves the mood of very many again’.78 A German Red Cross sister, writing home from the relative quiet of a naval hospital in La Rochelle in dismay ‘that the Bolsheviks are now in our beautiful Germany’, evidently wanted to trust Hitler’s promise of final victory in his New Year address, but added: ‘it’s damned hard to believe it.’79 Another woman brushed away such doubts. Despite her horror at events in the east and bombs raining down on German cities, and her anxiety about the future, she still felt confidence in a leadership ‘that only wants the best and greatness for the people’, regretted that Party members ‘did not uphold the Führer’s idea better’, and was certain that the war ‘must simply end in victory for us’ since a Jewish ‘diabolical state leadership’ could not hold out in the long run.80
A genuine, naive belief in Hitler – perhaps most commonly still encountered among younger Germans, though here, too, by now very much a minority taste – was registered in an otherwise pessimistic diary entry of a teenager from Siegen in southern Westphalia, whose mother was ridden with anxiety about relatives who had not managed to escape from the encirclement of Königsberg. Without radio since the last air raid, the girl was unsure precisely where German troops stood, but saw only too clearly how bad the situation was. Germany needed troops in the east; but then the British and Americans would attack in the west. And now, at the evacuation of Breslau, people were having to flee in the east as well as the west. ‘Our poor, poor Führer,’ was her immediate thought. ‘He will probably no longer be able to sleep at night and had only the best in mind for Germany.’ She was unsure of her own future, but clung on to two hopes: that God would recognize that the German people had been punished enough (for what she did not say); or ‘that the Führer still has a secret weapon to use’. Perhaps the weapon was so destructive, she mused, that the government hesitated to deploy it. Whatever the case, there was nothing any ordinary person could do, she added, fatalistically. Things would take their course. She ended by regretting that her school would reopen at the beginning of February: ‘Still having to learn at such a time? Horrible!’ she remarked.81
Germany was a shrinking country, its eastern parts severed, its western borders threatened, its population subjected to mounting threats of invasion as well as constant bombardment. City dwellers had to face severe privations as gas and electricity supplies were restricted, water often available only at street standpipes and food rations tightened. People frequently had to walk or cycle to work, since public transport systems functioned only partially at best. In country areas not as yet scarred by the war,
conditions were generally better. There was food to be had – often hoarded, despite the penalties for doing so. Nor, except for areas on the edge of urban conglomerates, was there the nightly terror of air raids, although anyone at work in the fields might be exposed to the ever more frequent attacks from ‘low-flyers’. It was, however, no rural idyll. Huge and increasing numbers of refugees from bombed-out cities and then from the ravaged regions of the east had to be put up – not always graciously – in already cramped and crowded accommodation, and fed from falling ration allowances. In areas close to the front, soldiers too had to be found billets. Incomers were often far from grateful for what was on offer, complaining about primitive conditions and showing reluctance to help out in farm work.82
Whether in town or countryside, those with a ‘brown’ background in the Nazi Party or one of its subsidiary organizations could not fail to recognize how widely they were by now despised by much of the population. But they were still the holders of power. Despite gathering criticism, people were rightly wary of being too outspoken and paying the consequences. Anyone with a history of anti-Nazi views had to be especially careful. The numbers of those sure the war was lost was growing daily. Few could be other than fearful of the future. But there was still a dwindling minority prepared to believe – perhaps more from desperation than conviction – that Hitler had something up his sleeve, even at this late hour. Many who had lost faith in the Führer nevertheless saw no alternative to fighting on if the land was not to fall to the feared Bolsheviks. Then there were the desperadoes who had allied themselves so closely with the Nazi regime for so long that they had a vested interest in continuing the struggle since they had no future once it was over. The Soviet breakthrough in the east triggered the start of their final fling. With nothing to lose, the radicalism of the Party fanatics threatened any who stood in their way.
Whatever the varied attitudes, ranging from outright anti-Nazis to still fervent loyalists, the mass of divided, dislocated and disillusioned Germans could do little or nothing to shape what the future held for them. Beyond the refusal of the Nazi leadership, most obviously and crucially Hitler himself, to contemplate capitulation, the continuation of an evidently lost war rested heavily upon the capacity of the regime to raise troops and provide them with armaments, and on the willingness and determination of the Wehrmacht to fight on even when the only outcome seemed certain to be disastrous defeat.
V
Letters home from the front inevitably indicate a range of attitudes among ordinary soldiers. Most, in fact, avoided any political comment and confined themselves to private matters. Of those who expressed opinions about the war, some were defeatist (despite the dangers of such views being picked up by the censors, with dire consequences for the writer) and others simply resigned to what they had to face; but most still exuded optimism and resilience – often perhaps to assuage the anxieties of relatives. A corporal based in Courland did not hold back in his criticism of Party functionaries who, he said (in sentiments commonplace within Germany), would ruthlessly sacrifice everything rather than serve at the front. ‘If only common sense could triumph among tyrants,’ he wrote, adding, perceptively, ‘but they know that they themselves are in any case doomed. So they will first ruthlessly sacrifice the entire people.’83 In another letter home, a soldier, recounting stories he had heard from an eyewitness of the ‘indescribable rage’ of refugees as they fled from the Red Army, thought they would soon have Communism ‘if the Americans don’t save us from it’.84 A sergeant writing from Breslau was fearful, but fatalistic: ‘The Russians are getting ever closer, and there’s the danger that we’ll be encircled. But our life is in God’s hand and I still hope that we’ll see each other again.’85
A quite different tone was more usual. ‘The very serious situation at present shouldn’t take away our confidence!’ wrote one soldier. ‘It’ll be different, believe me! We must, must have patience and mustn’t, mustn’t lose faith.’86 Another, asking for necessary material sacrifice at home, thought it would be possible with courage to hold the front and force back the ‘great steamroller from the east’.87 An NCO based in East Prussia expressed his sadness at the ‘refugee misery’, but also the anger that it provoked, a feeling shared unquestionably by many soldiers and a further motivation to uncompromising efforts to fend off the Soviet threat.88 A corporal, upset that the Tannenberg monument in East Prussia had had to be blown up and worried about the possible loss of Silesian industry, still strongly believed, he wrote, that Germany would eventually master the enemy.89 An injured grenadier, in a field hospital in Germany after being transported by sea from Pillau out of the East Prussian cauldron, was confident, despite the worrying situation. ‘We must have faith,’ he declared. ‘I believe for certain that a change will soon come. On no account will we capitulate! That so much blood has already been spilt in this freedom fight cannot be in vain. The war can and will end in German victory!’90
How representative such attitudes were is impossible to tell, though, as in these letters, hopes and fears were surely especially prominent in the minds of most soldiers overwhelmed by the crisis in the east. Political opinion is barely mentioned. It was, of course, dangerous to voice criticism of the regime. But expressly pro-Nazi feeling was also seldom registered. Contempt for Party functionaries was by now widespread in the Wehrmacht, as among the civilian population, though it surfaces only rarely in the letters home, for obvious reasons. On the other hand, attitudes supportive of Nazism were not always clearly definable. The regime’s extreme nationalism fed into the feeling that the homeland must be protected, come what may. And years of strident anti-Bolshevik propaganda and racist stereotyping matched, for many soldiers, their own experience of the brutal practices of the Red Army and shored up their determination to resist the onslaught of those whom, influenced by Nazi indoctrination, they frequently saw as ‘Asiatic hordes’ or ‘Bolshevik beasts’. Propaganda slogans such as ‘Victory or Siberia’ or ‘We are Fighting for the Lives of our Wives and Children’ were probably not without effect, even if it cannot be judged how well they were received.91 One junior officer, serving in the west but closely following the reports of events in the east with deepening sadness and pessimism, probably echoed the views of many when he jotted in his diary: ‘Enough of slogans. They no longer cut any ice.’92 On the western front at this time, Allied army psychiatrists investigating the mentality of captured Germans reckoned that about 35 per cent of them were Nazis, though only about 10 per cent ‘hard core’. The remaining 65 per cent showed, they estimated, no clear signs of what they saw as a Nazi personality type.93 Whether such assessments on the eastern front would have reached similar conclusions cannot be known.
Whatever their private views, the rank-and-file could not influence events. Overwhelmingly, they simply obeyed orders. The number of desertions was rising, even on the eastern front, but they represented, nevertheless, a tiny proportion of those serving. There were signs of sagging morale, certainly, but, countered by severe punishment, this never threatened to turn into outright mutiny. Crucial to the continued readiness to fight was in any case less the behaviour of the ordinary soldiers than the stance of their commanders.
The inner tensions of the military leader trying, in desperate days, to stem the flow of the Red Army’s inexorable march through East Prussia can be seen in the daily diary entries and letters home to his wife of Colonel-General Reinhardt, in the eye of the storm as Commander-in-Chief of the beleaguered Army Group Centre. Reinhardt, a firm regime loyalist, wrestled with problems of conscience more widely felt in the military leadership as he struggled to reconcile responsibility to those under his command with obedience to Hitler, even when the orders he received diametrically contradicted his own judgement on what he knew to be necessary. After the war he still saw no alternative to his actions. Resignation, unless Hitler demanded it, had not been possible. Even the thought of feigning illness to lay down his command had caused him ‘the most serious psychological struggles’. U
nder the illusion that he could personally influence events, and that ‘it was pointless to sacrifice himself’ since a willing successor would easily be found, he saw no alternative to remaining in post.94
Mid-evening on 14 January, with the offensive in its earliest stages, Hitler telephoned to hear Reinhardt’s view of the situation of his Army Group, but abruptly ended the conversation before the commander had a chance to express his concern at the shortage of reserves. Hours later, during a restless night, Reinhardt received Hitler’s order to transfer two vital panzer divisions to Harpe’s hard-pressed Army Group A, struggling to hold the Soviet advance on the Vistula. This would further weaken his limited reserves. But he was told there was no point in protesting; the Führer’s decision was final. Reinhardt noted that the consequences in East Prussia could only be ‘catastrophic’. Removing the last reserves would inevitably bring an enemy breakthrough very soon. ‘Monstrous blow for us! But has to be borne, as our position is also dependent on Harpe,’ he stoically jotted in his diary.95
Reinhardt was having to contend with Guderian as well as Hitler. On 15 January Guderian initially refused to allow him to shorten the north-eastern corner of the front. Reinhardt, desperate for reserves, appealed to Hitler, who this time supported him as Guderian backed down. On 17 January Hitler, supported by Guderian, rejected Reinhardt’s fervent plea to pull back the 4th Army to save much needed reserves to help support the struggling 2nd Army further to the west. Reinhardt’s hour-long telephone call to Hitler to put the case was difficult. Hitler said at the outset that, because of his hearing problems as a result of the attack on his life the previous July, General Wilhelm Burgdorf, his Wehrmacht adjutant, would conduct the discussion. Reinhardt and his Chief of Staff, Lieutenant-General Otto Heidkämper, also a firm regime loyalist, suspected that their case was not fully or clearly represented by Burgdorf. In any case, it was to no avail. Hitler was convinced, he said, that withdrawals did not save forces, because the enemy simply advanced to more favourable positions. This type of retreat, he claimed, had led to catastrophe at every point of the eastern front. He then rejected Reinhardt’s request to allow the 4th Army to retreat to the Masurian Lakes and was dismissive about the value of the fortifications in Lötzen. The most that Reinhardt achieved was to retain two divisions that Guderian had wanted to transfer to the OKH.96