-Caveat Lector- an excerpt from: Secret Germany - Stauffenberg and the Mystical Crusade Against Hitler Michael Baigent and Richard Leigh,(C) 1994 PENGUIN BOOKS Published by the Penguin Group Penguin Books Ltd. 27 Wrights Lane London W8 3TZ, England Penguin Books USA Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, Now York 10014, USA Penguin Books Australia Lid, Ringwood, Victoria, Australia Penguin Books Cana& Ltd, 10 Alcorn Avenue, Toronto, Ontario. Canada M4V 3B2 Penguin Books (NZ) Ltd, 192-190 Wairau Road, Auckland 10, New Zealand Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: Harmondsworth, Middlesex, England First published by Jonathan Cape 1994 Published in Penguin Books 1995 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 AD rights reserved The moral right of the author has been asserted Printed in England by Clays Ltd, St Ives plc Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be Lent re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser ----- --[4a]-- 3 In the Wolf's Lair At seven in the morning, on Thursday 20 July 1944, Stauffenberg boarded a courier aircraft at a military aerodrome south of Berlin. He was accompanied by his aide-de-camp, Lieutenant Werner von Haeften, and by another officer, also privy to the conspiracy. Even at this early hour, the day was hot and sultry promising to become more oppressive as it wore on. The flight to Rastenburg was ordinarily of some two hours' duration. Today, however, it was delayed, and did not land until ten-fifteen. At the airstrip, a car awaited Stauffenberg and his fellow officers, to convey them to the Fuhrer's compound. For four miles, the road ran tunnel-like through the sombre gloom of pagan fir forests dank with the stench of mould. The trees then gave way to a camouflaged perimeter of minefields, networks of festooned barbed wire, checkpoints manned by hand-picked SS who demanded precise passwords. The temperature was now in the upper eighties, the air was stifling with humidity and Stauffenberg, like everyone else, was sweating profusely. This very discomfort, however, would work in his favour. At a table laid under an oak tree outside the mess, he breakfasted. At eleven o'clock, he met with two general officers. At eleven-thirty, there followed a forty-five minute conference with Field Marshal Wilhelm Keitel, Chief of the General Staff and one of Hitler's most contemptibly abject subordinates. To Stauffenberg and the other conspirators, Keitel was known as 'Lakeitel', a play on the German word 'Lakei', meaning 'lackey' or 'toady', and with effeminate connotations as well. The conference with the Fuhrer, scheduled originally for one o'clock, had been moved forward by half an hour. With fifteen minutes to spare, Stauffenberg, blaming the heat and humidity of the day, requested premises in which he might wash, and change his sodden shirt. A deferential officer directed him to a washroom. On the way he was joined by Haeften, carrying a suitcase with two bombs. The bombs were not unlike the one employed by Tresckow's subordinate, Fabian von Schlabrendorff, in the abortive assassination attempt of 1942. Detonation depended on acid eating its way through a length of wire. In order to rupture the container of acid, Stauffenberg had equipped himself with a specially modified pair of pliers which enabled him to perform the operation with the three fingers of his left hand. The remains of these pliers are today on display in Berlin, in the building that once housed the Reserve Army's headquarters on the Bendlerstrasse, now the Stauffenbergstrasse. Once the bombs were activated, there would be a time delay of ten minutes before they exploded. This delay, however, was only approximate. The speed with which the acid consumed the wire would be, to some degree, affected by temperature, atmospheric pressure and other indeterminate factors. The hotter the day, the more quickly the explosion would occur; but there was no way of predicting precisely how quickly. In the washroom, Stauffenberg changed his shirt and, assisted by his aide, began to arrange and activate the bombs in his briefcase. Using the specially modified pliers, he had already activated the first when he was interrupted by a sergeant-major, who - since the briefing with Hitler was about to begin - had been sent to hurry him up. The sergeant-major waited until Stauffenberg and Haeften had finished what they were doing. He was later to testify that he saw them busy with a wrapped parcel. It was undoubtedly the incommodious presence of this intruder that prevented Stauffenberg from arming both bombs. The device that remained inert was left with Haeften, who slipped it into his briefcase. With the activated bomb now in his own briefcase, Stauffenberg left the washroom. Within ten minutes, the blast would occur. Emerging into a corridor, Stauffenberg again encountered Field Marshal Keitel. It was now twelve-thirty, and the field marshal huffy and flustered as usual, begged him to hurry. Tardiness was not seemly for a German officer and might provoke the Fuhrer's wrath. Another officer, standing nearby, offered to help Stauffenberg with his briefcase. When Stauffenberg declined the courtesy, it aroused no suspicion. He was known and respected for his fierce self-sufficiency. Presumably he had hoped to be conducted to the visitors" bunker, where Hitler was staying at the time and where conferences usually occurred. The concrete walls of this structure would contain and maximise the effects of the blast. But since 15 July, conferences had been held in the adjacent map room, which had now become a separate briefing hut. It was a wooden structure of some sixteen by forty feet, with three large windows in the north wall. A blast here would be significantly less lethal. As Stauffenberg approached the hut, another officer volunteered to help him with his briefcase. This time he accepted and added a request: 'Could you please put me as near as possible to the Fuhrer so that I can catch everything I need for my briefing afterwards. " It has been plausibly suggested that this was a reference to his hearing which had been adversely affected by his injuries. When he entered, the conference had already begun. General Heusinger, Assistant Chief of Staff, was reporting on the situation on the Eastern Front. Most of the two dozen men present, including Hitler, were clustered around a heavy oblong table, bent over maps which littered its surface. Stauffenberg joined them, edging his way to a position on the Fuhrer's right, some six feet distant. Keitel introduced him. He and Hitler shook hands. Placing his briefcase on the floor, Stauffenberg nudged it under the table with his boot. General Heusinger paused for breath. Taking advantage of this intermission, Keitel suggested that when Heusinger had finished speaking, Stauffenberg might report on the status of the Reserve Army. The Fuhrer nodded approval, not deigning to say anything. General Heusinger then resumed his exegesis. There could now be no more than seven minutes before the bomb exploded. Turning to the officer beside him, Stauffenberg excused himself. He had to telephone Berlin, he explained. It was urgent. He would return at once. Leaving his briefcase under the table, he threaded his way to the door. No one paid any attention to his departure except the fussy Keitel, who made a half-hearted attempt to go after him, then gave it up. Once outside the briefing hut, Stauffenberg, in accordance with pre-arranged plans, hurried to a shelter across the compound. Here, General Erich Fellgiebel, Chief of Signals at Rastenburg, awaited him. Fellgiebel was a colleague, a fellow conspirator and integral component of the plot. When the explosion occurred, he was to telephone the other conspirators in Berlin, who would activate Operation Valkyrie, the mobilisation and deployment of the Reserve Army. Fellgiebel was then to cut all communications from Rastenburg, thus truncating the chain of command and thwarting all interference. The 'Wolf's Lair' would be altogether isolated, severed from events unfolding elsewhere. For three minutes, Stauffenberg and Fellgiebel waited in the shelter, concealing their tension. A subordinate signals officer happened to be present, and this compelled them to sustain an anodyne conversation about which car Stauffenberg should take to the landing strip. Then, at twelve-forty-two, a single shattering detonation ruptured the humid summer somnolence, followed by a stunned stillness. Stauffenberg contrived to give 'e violent stars' end Fellgiebel feigned alarm. The signals officer dismissed the matter irritably. It must have been a mine, he said. Given the defences at Rastenburg, such things often occurred. Atmospheric pressure, defective mechanisms, stray wildlife were constantly triggering explosions in the minefields. There was no cause for concern. From the briefing hut across the compound, a plume of sulphurous smoke boiled upwards, staining the sky. Outside the signals shelter, Haeften appeared in a requisitioned car. Fellgiebel accompanied Stauffenberg to the vehicle, which lurched quickly into motion. It was necessary to escape from Rastenburg before the compound was sealed off. On the way from the signals shelter, the car passed within fifty yards of the briefing hut. Security personnel were rushing about in great disorder, like wasps from a disturbed nest. Figures were being carried out, though it could not be determined whether they were dead or only injured. The hut itself appeared gutted, and rubble littered the grass for some distance. Greasy smoke gushed from the windows, together with fitful flickers of flame. Stauffenberg was absolutely convinced that no one could possibly have survived the blast. By now, klaxons were braying and Rastenburg's former torpor had been supplanted by frenzy. A full security alert had galvanised the compound, internal telephones were ringing, guards being reinforced. At the first two checkpoints, Stauffenberg knew the sentries, who, after a moment's chatter, waved him through the barriers. At the last and southernmost checkpoint, the car was halted by an officious sergeant-major. No one, he announced, was permitted to enter or leave the premises. Stauffenberg snapped at him impatiently, 'in a parade-ground tone'. The sergeant-major was cowed but stolidly insisted on adhering to orders. Stauffenberg got out of the car, snatched up the telephone and personally rang the aide-de-camp of Rastenburg's commandant. 'Colonel Count Stauffenberg speaking, from outer checkpoint South. Captain, you'll remember we had breakfast together this morning. Because of the explosion, the guard refuses to let me pass. I'm in a hurry. Colonel-General Fromm is waiting for me at the airfield.'[2] Without waiting for a reply, he replaced the receiver, but the obstinate sergeant-major insisted on receiving the order personally and telephoned the commandant's aide himself. On being told that Stauffenberg could pass, he raised the barrier. The car set off for the landing strip, Stauffenberg ordering the driver to hurry. Haeften tossed the second and unused bomb from the window. By one-fifteen, Stauffenberg was airborne, and on his way back to Berlin. He could not yet confirm definitely the Fuhrer's death, of course. There was no means of doing that if he intended to get out of Rastenburg. Nevertheless, he was confident. With his own eyes, he had seen the devastation caused by the explosion. It seemed inconceivable that Hitler could have survived it. In the briefing hut, an unwitting colonel, taking Stauffenberg's vacated place at the table, had barked his shin against a briefcase. Cramped for space, he had pushed it further under the table, behind one of the heavy oak supports on which the tabletop rested. These supports were not just legs. They were solid slabs of wood extending the width of the table - tantamount, in effect, to sturdy waist-high partitions. The tabletop, too, was of solid oak, four inches thick. Hitler was thus shielded from the bomb by both the table's top and its supports, which deflected the impact of the blast. The unwitting colonel, two generals and a stenographer were to die from their injuries. Nine other men had to be hospitalised, and everyone else present suffered at least minor wounds. Hitler's hair was set aflame and his right arm was temporarily paralysed, his eardrums were pierced and he was badly dazed. The tremor he had begun to display, symptom of a nervous disorder, was to become exacerbated and remain acute for the duration of his life. It has been suggested that he may have suffered a form of breakdown. Certainly he was never again to appear in public. But he was very much alive; and the relieved lackeys attending him could see only minor burns and the indignity of shredded trousers. In the signals shelter, General Fellgiebel had waited expectantly, ready to telephone Berlin and start Operation Valkyrie, then cut all communications to and from Rastenburg. To his horror, Fellgiebel saw the dazed and bewildered Fuhrer being led shakily from the smouldering debris of the briefing hut. Despite this unexpected development, the general showed great presence of mind, anticipating what he knew would have been Stauffenberg's own decision the coup must proceed anyway. Shortly before one o'clock, he telephoned Berlin and activated Valkyrie. He then rang a contact at OKH (Army) Headquarters not far away. 'Something fearful has happened,' he announced. 'The Fuhrer is alive.' When asked what had now to be done, Fellgiebel replied, 'Block everything.'[3] In other words, news of Hitler's survival had to be kept from the outside world. As for cutting communications from Rastenburg proper, Fellgiebel had no need to do so: the compound's security authorities had already ordered a total blackout. At the same time, it was impossible to isolate Rastenburg completely. Although the telephone and teleprinter exchanges could be cut, there were still radio transmitters; and both the Ministry of Propaganda and the German News Agency had their own private teleprinter lines which did not pass through the main exchange. No provision had been made, or could have been made, for dealing with these. In any case, despite whatever its planners had overlooked or been forced to omit, Operation Valkyrie was now in progress. In Berlin, the conspirators had thronged the War Office in the Bendlerstrasse, anxiously awaiting Fellgiebel's call. When it came, it implemented Valkyrie but made no mention of Hitler's survival. By one-thirty at the latest, however, news of the Fuhrer's escape would have filtered through, if only via OKH Headquarters, but no one was able to consult with Stauffenberg. He, of course, was airborne at the time, and out of communication, still wholly convinced everything was going according to plan. In his absence, no one in any position of authority dared make a decision or determine what to do next. Some of the younger officers, Stauffenberg's contemporaries, tried desperately to coax things into motion. An old friend of Stauffenberg, Colonel Albrecht Merz von Quirnheim, deserves special mention for his resolute insistence. But General Olbricht from whom all orders had ultimately to issue, remained paralysed. Two hours passed. Tension intensified, nerves grew strained and the telephones remained silent. The conspirators hung suspended in a vacuum, the lack of information as painful and stifling as a lack of air. Immobilised by uncertainty, Olbricht continued to hesitate. And the minutes during which the coup might yet have succeeded slipped away. In Rastenburg, there was no doubt by now who had been responsible for the bomb. Stauffenberg's rapid and unauthorised departure - he had left behind his cap, his belt and other accoutrements - had made that clear enough. Even so, no one as yet suspected an organised conspiracy, and the maimed colonel was thought to have acted alone, a solitary depraved assassin. It was assumed he would attempt to flee the country, seeking refuge on neutral soil. An order was issued to the Luftwaffe, to intercept and shoot down a Heinkel bound for Switzerland or Sweden. The officer charged with transmitting this order, however, was one of Stauffenberg's collaborators, and left it unimplemented on his desk. Shortly after three-thirty, Merz von Quirnheim at last managed to goad Olbricht into action. Senior officers were summoned. Hitler, they were told, had been assassinated. The army was now under the supreme command of Field Marshal von Witzleben. The new head of state was General Beck. An officer was dispatched to Berlin Military Headquarters carrying orders for the further implementation of Operation Valkyrie. The same orders were issued by telephone and teleprinter to all military districts in the Reich. Shortly before four o'clock, Olbricht and Merz von Quirnheim went to see General Fromm, Commander-in-Chief of the Reserve Army and Stauffenberg's immediate superior. Throughout the previous months of planning, Fromm had vacillated abjectly. Although he had never been a committed member of the conspiracy, his co-operation had been deemed essential. The conspirators, albeit reluctantly, had therefore made him privy to their designs. Intent on nothing more than self-preservation, Fromm had tepidly aligned himself with them, as long as their enterprise promised some measure of success. Now, in the absence of any official information, he began to dither anew. As Olbricht and Merz von Quirnheim argued with him, a call came from the airport. Stauffenberg and Haeften had just arrived. They had no reason to assume that everything was not already well under way. In fact, scarcely had anything begun, and more than three valuable hours had elapsed since the explosion at Rastenburg. The driver awaiting Stauffenberg and Haeften at the airport somehow contrived to miss them. The absence of any other car - and of petrol as well - meant further delay. In the meantime, Olbricht continued to dispute with Fromm. At four-ten, Fromm attempted to ring Keitel at Rastenburg. To everyone's surprise, he got through. What, Fromm asked, was happening? A bomb had exploded, Keitel replied, but the Fuhrer was alive. Keitel then enquired as to Stauffenberg's whereabouts. Stauffenberg, Fromm reported, had not yet returned. Olbricht had listened to this exchange. It was clear to him that Fromm's co-operation could no longer be relied upon - if, indeed, it ever could have been. After resisting for so long, Olbricht was now thoroughly determined, as if steeled by Stauffenberg's imminent return Leaving Fromm, he hurried back to his own office and, at four-thirty, issued new orders. These were the first to offer the agreed 'cover story' for the coup. The Fuhrer, Adolf Hitler, is dead . . . An unscrupulous clique of non-combatant party leaders has tried to exploit the situation to stab the deeply committed front in the back, and to seize power for selfish purposes.[4] A state of martial law was declared. All Waffen-SS (combat SS) units were immediately to be incorporated into the army and rendered subject to military authority. All Party officials were similarly subordinated to military control. The security service, the SD, was dissolved. The statement was signed by Field Marshal von Witzleben. As these orders were going out, Stauffenberg and Haeften arrived back at the Bendlerstrasse. Stauffenberg went directly to his office, where four officers were waiting, and, without any greeting, said simply: 'He's dead. I saw how he was carried out.'[5] In Olbricht's office a few minutes later, Stauffenberg gave a more detailed report: 'I saw the whole thing from the outside. I was standing outside the hut with General Fellgiebel. There was an explosion inside the hut and then I saw large numbers of medical personnel come running up and cars being brought along. The explosion was as if the hut had been hit by a six-inch shell. It is hardly possible that anyone could be alive.'[6] By this time more reports had come in from Rastenburg. Although nothing as yet could be substantiated definitely, there was increasing evidence to suggest that Hitler was indeed still alive. Stauffenberg refused to believe it. Having personally witnessed the effects of the explosion, he could not accept that it had failed to kill everyone in the briefing hut, the Fuhrer included. With Stauffenberg attending him, Olbricht returned to Fromm's office. Stauffenberg, he reported, had confirmed that the Fuhrer was dead. 'That is impossible,' Fromm replied. 'Keitel has assured me to the contrary.'[7] It must have been at this moment that Stauffenberg first seriously began to suspect the truth. Keitel, after all, had also been in the briefing hut. If Fromm had just spoken to him, Keitel had obviously survived; and if Keitel had survived, the Fuhrer might have done so as well. At the same time it is also possible that Stauffenberg's conviction remained unshaken. In an interview with the authors of this book, Otto John, 'one of the few conspirators to survive, made an interesting and revealing statement. As late as 22 July, Otto John declared, two days after the event, he personally continued to believe that Stauffenberg had been telling the truth and that Hitler was indeed dead. 'All we heard over the radio was Hitler's voice, and we all knew that there was a double.'[8] The belief that Hitler had a double was widely held in the Third Reich, and this belief would clearly have contributed to the conspirators' confusion. Stauffenberg may well have wondered whether the Party hierarchy, and the authorities at Rastenburg, were not attempting a sort of bluff. Whatever might be the case, he recognised the necessity, even more urgent now, of proceeding with Operation Valkyrie according to plan, even if that required a bluff of his own to prevent demoralisation from setting in among the conspirators. Accordingly, Stauffenberg retorted to Fromm, 'Field Marshal Keitel is Iying as usual. I myself saw Hitler's body being carried away.' And a little later he repeated what he had said to Olbricht, 'General, I myself set off the bomb during the conference with Hitler. There was an explosion as though a six-inch shell had hit the room. No one who was in that room can still be alive.'[9] Before Fromm could reply, Olbricht announced that the orders for Operation Valkyrie had already been issued. At this news, Fromm exploded with rage, banging his fist on the desk. Was he not in command here? He would not tolerate his subordinates doing what they liked. They were guilty of insubordination, revolution, high treason. The penalty for all of them would be death. Who, he demanded, had actually issued the orders to activate Valkyrie? When Olbricht replied that Merz von Quirnheim had issued them, Merz was summoned to confirm the assertion. When Merz did so, Fromm declared that he, Olbricht and Stauffenberg were all under arrest. Merz was then commanded to go to the teleprinter and cancel the orders. Merz simply sat down in the nearest chair. 'Colonel-General,' he replied drily, 'you've just put me under arrest. My freedom of movement is therefore restricted.'[10] Fromm then turned on Stauffenberg. The attempted assassination had miscarried, he shouted. Stauffenberg now had no alternative but to shoot himself. 'I have no intention of shooting myself,' Stauffenberg answered coldly. Olbricht added to Fromm, 'You are deluding yourself about who actually has the power. It is we who are arresting you.'[11] Lurching up from his desk, Fromm lunged forward with fists flailing - at Stauffenberg according to some reports, at Olbricht according to others. Junior officers, who by now had gathered in the room, intervened. Haeften drew his pistol. So, too, did Lieutenant Ewald von Kleist, the man who, earlier that year, had volunteered to model a new uniform for the Fuhrer with explosives strapped around his waist. With the muzzle of Kleist's pistol pressing into his stomach, Fromm subsided back into his chair. Stauffenberg told him he had five minutes in which to think things over, and, accompanied by Olbricht, left the room. When Olbricht returned and asked Fromm for his decision, he replied, 'Under the circumstances, I regard myself as under constraint.' Without any further protest, he allowed himself and his aide to be locked in an adjacent office. The telephone was disconnected and sentries were placed at both exits. By five o'clock, the coup had begun to show the momentum it should have had four hours earlier. Olbricht reported to Stauffenberg that all requisite Valkyrie orders had been issued. It was now a matter of waiting for troops to arrive, seal off the Bendlerstrasse and protect the conspirators. In the meantime, General Hoepner, Stauffenberg's former superior in the field, assumed Fromm's command. Other conspirators began to appear at the War Office, including Berthold, Stauffenberg's brother, and General Beck, the intended new head of state. When informed that Hitler might indeed have survived, Beck decided the possibility could not be entertained. 'For me,' he said, 'this man is dead.'[12] Such was the premise on which things were to proceed, regardless of the reality. Shortly after five o'clock, according to eyewitnesses, an SS Oberfuhrer, or colonel, made an ingenuous appearance. "Suddenly thumping footsteps sounded in the corridor. The door flew open and an SS . . . of the typical butcher type appeared in the doorway. A more vivid, more typical SS hangman could scarcely be imagined. This creature clicked his heels with a report like a pistol shot, raised his hand in the 'German' greeting and growled loudly, 'Heil Hitler.'"[13] He had orders, he announced, to question Colonel Count von Stauffenberg. Formal but as genially cordial as ever, Stauffenberg invited the SS man into his office. Here, the SS man was disarmed by Kleist and a colleague, Lieutenant Ludwig von Hammerstein (son of the former German army C-in-C), and placed under guard in the same room as Fromm. Shortly thereafter, the commander of Berlin's military district appeared, having been summoned by Olbricht. He was horrified to find a coup in progress, refused adamantly to co-operate and yelled repeatedly that 'the Fuhrer is not dead'. In an attempt to escape, he dashed down the corridor towards the exit. Here he, too, was stopped by Kleist and an NCO with drawn pistols, then placed under guard with Fromm and the SS colonel. When he invoked his oath of loyalty to the Fuhrer, Beck replied: 'How dare you talk of oaths? Hitler has broken his oath to the constitution and his vows to the people a hundred times over. How dare you refer to your oath of loyalty to such a perjurer?'[14] For the next four hours, the War Office was a maelstrom of frenzied activity. Confirmations were received that troops everywhere were ready to move. Instructions for Operation Valkyrie were transmitted beyond the precincts of the Reich, to Austria, Italy, Czechoslovakia and France. The orders previously promulgated within Germany proper were now promulgated in occupied territory as well. Martial law was declared to be in effect. The army was to assume absolute control. All SS, SD, Gestapo and Party personnel were to be arrested or placed under military authority. It was already too late. The delay during the afternoon had been fatal, and so had at least two other factors. Stauffenberg was urged to deal with Goebbels, who remained safely ensconced at the Ministry of Propaganda in the nearby Prinz Albrechtstrasse. For the first and only time in the course of that crucial day, he hesitated, as did the more senior of his colleagues. Perhaps - although it seems inconceivable - they underestimated Goebbels' importance. Or perhaps they shrank from the prospect of unleashing a reign of terror in Berlin. To assassinate the Fuhrer was one thing. To embark on a wholesale purge was quite another, entailing precisely the same evils they were endeavouring to overthrow. They had no wish to perpetrate their own Night of the Long Knives. Beck, Olbricht, Hoepner and Stauffenberg all procrastinated when Gisevius tried to impress on them the need to radicalize the coup by summarily executing some top Nazis. The very outrage at the methods of the Nazi regime became an impediment to a coup d'etat, which depended, in part, on those same methods.[15] Such scruples were present even though the conspirators at the War Office had now been joined by the head of the Ecumenical Section of the Evangelical Church, with a pistol as well as a Bible in his pocket. On a day such as this, the clergyman had declared, a day which involved revolt against monsters like the SS and National Socialist Party leaders, shooting must be expected. Excessive probity, he argued, would endanger both the coup and its participants. Of equally fatal consequences was the conspirators' failure to shut down, effectively and completely, all broadcasting. They had dispatched contingents of troops to occupy the relevant radio stations and transmission centres, but these troops had lacked the technical expertise to do anything more. As a result, broadcasting by Nazi authorities was soon to recommence and continue uninterrupted; and the loyalties of the troops sent to curtail it were soon to be disastrously divided. By five-forty-two, orders were issuing from the Fuhrer's headquarters and other bastions of Nazi power, contradicting those from the War Office. In the War Office itself, telephone wires were clogged by confused commanders besieging the conspirators. Kassel and Hannover rang. Nuremberg rang. Vienna rang. Prague rang. Stauffenberg personally answered all requests for clarification. At the same time, he and Hoepner were also ringing out, galvanising their network in Konigsberg, in Stettin, in Munster, in Breslau, in Munich and Hamburg. By this time, it was clear to Stauffenberg that the conspiracy was doomed. He refused, however, to capitulate - or to perform some such facile gesture of martyrdom as, say, shooting himself. He continued to inspire his colleagues and to comport himself as if success were still within easy reach. The eyewitness Otto John has described him at his desk, answering the telephone. John's words may not be accurate in every detail, but they convey a stirring impression of Stauffenberg, single-handedly trying to keep the coup on course: 'Stauffenberg here - yes - yes - they are all C-in-C's orders - yes, that stands - all orders to be carried out at once - you must occupy all radio and signal stations forthwith- any resistance will be broken - you will probably get counter-orders from the Fuhrer's headquarters - they are unauthorised - no - the Wehrmacht has assumed plenary powers - no one except the C-in-C Replacement Army is authorised to issue orders - do you understand? - yes - the Reich is in danger - as always in time of supreme emergency the soldiers are now in full control - yes, Witzleben has been appointed Commander-in-Chief- it is only a formal nomination - occupy all signal stations - is that clear? - Heil.'[16] Here and there, this arrogation of authority proved convincing and effective. In Vienna, all SS officers were arrested and the army occupied key installations. In Paris, General Karl Heinrich von Stulpnagel (commander-in-chief of France and a long-standing member of the conspiracy) imposed martial law and imprisoned all SS, SD and Gestapo personnel. Summary courts-martial were scheduled for that night and sandbags were piled up in the barracks for the shooting of those condemned to death. For a few hours at least, and in certain areas, the Third Reich was actually overthrown. But time was running out. On the radio an increasing number of reports stated that the Fuhrer had survived an attempt on his life. Himmler was on the telephone giving orders to SS units in Berlin. There was even one announcement that Himmler himself was now to be placed in command of the Reserve Army. In Rastenburg, Hitler, propped up by aides and still shaken, was recording a speech. It would not be broadcast until one in the morning, but the gist of it was already on the airwaves: A small clique of ambitious, irresponsible and at the same time senseless and criminally stupid officers have formed a plot to eliminate me and the German Wehrmacht command. The bomb was placed by Colonel Graf von Stauffenberg . . . I myself sustained only some very minor scratches, bruises and burns. I regard this as a confirmation of the task imposed on me by Providence to continue on the road of my life as I have done hitherto . . .[17] In Berlin, the commander of the city's standing garrison, Major Otto Ernst Remer, had spent much of the afternoon in a quandary. There had never been any question of him becoming associated with the conspiracy - he was too mindlessly fervent a Nazi for that - but the confused situation had already taxed far more capacious brains than his. At four-thirty, he had received the alert for Operation Valkyrie and driven off to report to the city's commandant, a member of Stauffenberg's circle. The commandant had told him the army was assuming supreme power and ordered him to deploy his battalion in a protective cordon around all government buildings, including the War Office in the Bendlerstrasse. Although he later claimed to have been immediately suspicious, he nevertheless complied, and the cordon was in place by six-thirty. Remer was also instructed, albeit belatedly, to arrest Goebbels at the Ministry of Propaganda; but this, he decided, 'would be asking too much of the troops' because Goebbels was their honorary colonel. Shortly thereafter, Remer was summoned by Goebbels himself. Remer dithered. In the meantime, Goebbels established contact with Rastenburg, spoke to Hitler personally and learned precisely what had happened. Not knowing how far the coup in Berlin had proceeded, he was badly frightened. He alerted a local SS detachment but simply ordered the men to stand by, unsure whether or not to trust them. As a precaution against capture by the conspirators, he slipped a number of cyanide capsules into his pocket. Then, at last, around seven o'clock, Remer appeared, having finally decided at least to find out what was happening. Goebbels must have been profoundly relieved. Remer's would have been the first even potentially friendly face he had seen all day from outside the Ministry of Propaganda, and it was not difficult to ensure the allegiance of so embryonic a mind. He rang Rastenburg again and let Remer speak to the Fuhrer in person. Hitler promoted Remer to colonel on the spot and entrusted him with control of all security measures in Berlin. Remer briefed his subordinates and redeployed his troops. They were ordered to surround the Bendlerstrasse and, if necessary, storm the War Office. In the War Office itself, the minions of the Reich had also begun to regroup. Overlooked by the conspirators, a handful of officers loyal to General Fromm had contrived to arm themselves. Around ten-thirty, gunfire suddenly erupted inside the building. As Stauffenberg hurried down a corridor, a shot cracked behind him and a bullet tore into his shoulder. Staggering, he turned and managed to draw his own pistol. According to most accounts, he returned fire, though one eyewitness reports he did not.[18] Alerted by the noise, other conspirators rushed to the scene and more shots were exchanged. It was clear, however, that the situation was hopeless. Stauffenberg, partially supported by colleagues, was bleeding profusely. Morale among the other conspirators was haemorrhaging away. Outside, Remer's battalion of troops was preparing for a full-scale assault. Stauffenberg and his immediate attendants did not surrender their weapons, but allowed themselves to be conducted to Fromm's office. A few moments later, Fromm himself entered, released from the adjacent room in which he had been confined. Haeften drew his pistol and levelled it at the general. Fromm cringed. Despite his; wound, Stauffenberg, his will again asserting itself, held himself, erect. He is said to have fixed Fromm with a glare of withering contempt; then, with a glance, he signalled Haeften to lower the pistol trained on his former superior. His personal code of honour precluded petty vindictiveness and revenge; and the death of a single abject general could hardly accomplish anything now. Fromm was doomed anyway. In the days to come, he would equivocate, prevaricate and lie outright in an attempt to exculpate himself, but the scythe of Hitler's vengeance would sweep through the ranks of anyone even remotely connected with the conspiracy, and Fromm would be among the first to fall. The charge against him would not be treason, but cowardice, thus setting the seal on his ignominy. Now, released from his confinement, Fromm surveyed the men before him, the nucleus of the coup that had come so near to success. These men, he realised, were not only an embarrassment. They were also a dangerous liability, for they could testify to his own involvement in the conspiracy, tepid though it had been. To leave them alive for interrogation would be too risky. They would have to be dispatched at once. Fromm pronounced them officially under arrest and declared that he had just convened a summary court martial. Provoked further by their comportment of continued defiance, he sentenced four of them to immediate execution. 'Colonel Merz, General Olbricht, this colonel whose name I will not mention and Lieutenant von Haeften are condemned to death.'[19] At this point, Stauffenberg spoke for the first time. 'In a few short clipped sentences, he assumed responsibility for everything.'[20] His colleagues, he said, had simply conducted themselves as soldiers and as his subordinates. They had been guilty of nothing save carrying out his orders. It is likely that Beck would also have been sentenced to summary execution. The old and beloved general requested to keep his pistol, however, 'for private use'. Fromm consented, ordering him 'to hurry up'. Under armed guard, Stauffenberg, Olbricht, Haeften and Merz von Quirnheim were escorted down the stairs to a courtyard below. Stauffenberg was still bleeding copiously from his shoulder, and Haeften again supported him. All four men walked calmly, 'showing no emotion'. In the room to which he had retired, Beck shot himself twice. When he was found to be still alive, Fromm ordered an officer to administer the coup de grace. The officer could not bring himself to do so, and entrusted the task to a sergeant. For the Nazis, one of the greatest (and most improbable) 'heroes of the hour' was the toadying and robotlike young Major Remer. By the end of the war, he had risen to the rank of major-general. Age was to bring no very marked wisdom in its wake. After the cessation of hostilities, Remer remained a dedicated Nazi, eager to disseminate his warped Weltanschauung. In 1950 he joined the neo-Nazi Socialist Reich Party (SRP) and became its second chairman. With bizarre sanctimoniousness and sententiousness, he fulminated against Stauffenberg and other members of the conspiracy branding them 'traitors to their country' and a 'stain on the shield of honour of the German officers' corps'. They had, he blustered (in an all-too-familiar cliched phrase) 'stabbed the German army in the back'. 'The time will come,' he frothed in 1951, 'when men will be ashamed to admit that they were part of the 20 July Putsch . . .[21] In the same year, a statement was issued by an ax-officer, one of Remer's wartime colleagues: We, his former comrades, have deeply regretted that destiny confronted this young officer in July, 1944, with a situation with consequences the bearing of which I should assume are beyond the powers of a human being. No judgement will be made here as to whether his decision on July 20 was right or wrong. But the consequences of his decision were so terrible, and have cost so much of the best German blood, that we old soldiers had expected that a man to whom destiny gave such a burden to carry until the end of his life would recognise this, and would thereafter live quietly and in seclusion. We, his former comrades, lack any sympathy for the fact that Herr Remer fails to summon up this attitude of self-effacement.[22] In the spring of 1952, Remer was sentenced to three months in prison for the 'collective libel of the Resistance circle'. He promptly fled Germany, re-surfacing in Egypt. But stupidity, as Schiller observed, is something with which the gods themselves must contend. Forty years later, in October 1992, Remer was again arrested in Germany and sentenced to twenty-two months in prison for publishing neo-Nazi propaganda and denying the occurrence of the Holocaust.[23] One can perhaps be forgiven a certain outrage at the fact that this creature is still alive, continuing to pollute the cosmos with his existence. While Remer survived to preen himself on his comportment in Berlin, the aftermath at Rastenburg was less conducive to such vanity. Mussolini had been scheduled to arrive for a meeting at four o'clock. When he did so, the Fuhrer was still dazed and overwrought, and even more prone to hysteria than usual. This hysteria was contagious, transmitting itself to the other Nazi leaders present. The arranged 'talks' quickly degenerated into a sequence of manic and unseemly rows. Goering at one point challenged Ribbentrop's right to parade a 'von' before his surname. Ribbentrop retorted by calling Goering a 'champagne salesman'. Apoplectic with rage, the Reichsmarshal threatened to batter the foreign minister with his bejewelled baton. His nerves further abraded by this dissension among his associates, Hitler lost all vestiges of control and launched into a tantrum. He would be ruthless, he screamed: he would annihilate everyone associated with the conspiracy, would exterminate them all, would show no mercy, would exact revenge even from women and children. In the past, Mussolini had been awed and cowed by what he saw as the forbidding majesty of the Reich's hierarchy. When he left Rastenburg, he was shaken and bewildered, feeling, as he reported afterwards, that he had been in a madhouse. Command of the Reserve Army was now entrusted to Himmler which rendered it subordinate to, and eventually all but subsumed by, the SS. In hunting down conspirators, Hitler urged his deputy to be ruthless. 'My Fuhrer,' Himmler replied with a smile, 'you can rely on me.' On 3 August, a fortnight after the attempted coup, he formally introduced the doctrine of Sippenhaft: 'blood guilt' or 'blood liability'. According to this doctrine, allegedly rooted in ancient Germanic tradition, treachery was a manifestation of diseased blood, not only in the culprit himself, but in all members of his family. In consequence, Himmler concluded, 'all were exterminated, to the last member of the clan'. The doctrine of Sippenhaft was now to be invoked anew. 'The family of Graf Stauffenberg will be extinguished to the last member.'[24] In the end, Himmler was balked by his own doting reverence for aristocracy and antique lineage. The blood of such families as the Stauffenbergs, he concluded, was too precious to be indiscriminately squandered. In this blood resided the puissance, the vertu, of Germany's future leadership. As a result, most members of the Stauffenberg family escaped extermination. Many of them were consigned to internment camps. Relatives were wrenched apart children separated from their parents and entrusted to the care of the State. Claus and Berthold von Stauffenberg's wives and children survived. So, too, did their brother, Alexander, who had not been implicated in the conspiracy. There were other conspirators, at least eight of them, who, like Beck, eluded the Fuhrer's vengeance by committing suicide. One such was the gallant Henning von Tresckow on the Russian front. According to some accounts, Tresckow walked from his headquarters to the front line and there shot himself. According to others, he simply strode out, amid an artillery barrage, into the no-man's-land between German and Russian lines. Tresckow was very much in the minority. Most of the conspirators not only chose to stay alive, but even, with surprising docility, allowed themselves to be arrested. It has been suggested that they may not have expected as severe a punishment as they were subsequently to receive, but this seems unlikely. They cannot have had many illusions about what was in store for them. In fact, most of them welcomed the opportunity to speak out to their interrogators and, more publicly still, in court, where they hoped to be heard by the German people. They were eager to turn the indictments brought against themselves into indictments against the regime. In more than a few instances, they made a genuinely profound impression on their persecutors. Some were even seduced into sympathy. Dr Georg Kiesel offers one such example. In the aftermath of 20 July, Hitler had demanded from Ernst Kaltenbrunner, head of the SD, a comprehensive enquiry into the conspiracy and a detailed report. Kaltenbrunner issued personal instructions that the Fuhrer 'must be given an uncompromising account of the motives for the assassination attempt. So many men of distinguished character and office were involved in the conspiracy that Hitler would, it was hoped, receive the shock he needed to make the necessary changes.[25] Kiesel, an SS interrogator and investigator, was assigned by Kaltenbrunner to compile much of the required documentation. To what must have been Hitler's profound consternation; Kiesel described Stauffenberg as 'a truly universal man' and 'a spirit of fire, fascinating and inspiring all who came in touch with him,[26] He actually went so far as to depict the Fuhrer's would-be assassin as 'a revolutionary aristocrat, careless of himself, without a trace of vanity or ambition', a eulogy that even Stauffenberg's staunchest supporters might find slightly extravagant. Kiesel was equally impressed by his interrogation of Stauffenberg's brother, Berthold: His short evidence was the clearest and most important document indicting Hitler that may ever have been written and shown to him. It manifested a type of German manhood with deep religious, political and artistic principles, utterly divorced from Hitler and National Socialism.[27] Kiesel was not alone. Reports by other interrogators spoke with consistent respect of Stauffenberg, citing his 'vision and struggles' and his desire 'to combine ethical socialism with his aristocratic traditions'.[28] For many of the interrogators, their work was not without some considerable discomfort. They may have been vicious and sadistic bullies, but they were not fools, and had been inculcated since childhood with respect for those they regarded as their 'betters'. Their victims were precisely such betters, men whom, for various reasons - caste or lineage, social standing and prestige, military or other accomplishments, intelligence and articulateness - they had revered. It must have been disconcerting to hear the well-reasoned and eloquently enunciated arguments of such men - arguments whose validity the interrogators themselves would have had difficulty ignoring. No one, after all, could be oblivious to the disaster which, by 1944, Hitler and the National Socialist hierarchy had brought down upon Germany. No one could be oblivious to the deteriorating military situation: the Western Allies driving eastwards from Normandy, the Red Army advancing westwards, British and American heavy bombers raining death down on German cities by day and night. And no one could be oblivious to the atrocities of the regime, the wholesale murder of Jews, Slavs and others, which the conspirators again and again cited as one of their primary reasons for action. Under brutal torture - what the Gestapo, with typical bureaucratic euphemism, called 'sharpened interrogation' - the conspirators displayed extraordinary bravery and tenacity. Fellgiebel suffered for three weeks before divulging any names. When he finally did speak, he involved only those he knew already to be dead. By virtue of such courage, a number of imprisoned individuals were released, and others were never arrested at all. Thus did men such as Axel von dem Bussche, Ludwig von Hammerstein and Ewald von Kleist escape and survive.[29] All officers implicated in the conspiracy were expelled from the army by a spurious 'court of honour' - a total of fifty-five men, including ten generals and a field marshal (Witzleben). This semblance of legality allowed them to be tried, along with their non-military colleagues, as civilians. There followed a series of grotesque 'show trials' in the notorious 'People's Court', under the auspices of its so-called President, Roland Freisler, one of the most loathsome figures in the entire macabre history of National Socialism. No presence was made to anything even approximating judicial procedure. Freisler interrupted the defendants, shouted them down, insulted them, swore at them, endeavoured to humiliate them by every means possible. It is not known how many Germans altogether died in reprisal for the abortive coup, but the total number has been estimated as high as two or three thousand. In the 'People's Court' alone, some two hundred were sentenced to death before Freisler, on 21 December 1944, was fatally injured in an Allied air raid. He was holding, at the time, the papers pertaining to the case of Fabian von Schlabrendorff, Tresckow's subordinate, who consequently escaped. Those condemned by Freisler's court were hanged in Berlin's Ploetzensee prison. The method employed did not, as in conventional hangings, break the neck. It was a slow and painful death by strangulation, which- sometimes lasted as long as twenty-five minutes. On Hitler's express orders, the executions were filmed. Even Kaltenbrunner objected to this obscenity, but the Fuhrer remained adamant. Nine camera-men were employed by turns, but filming, after the first day, was curtailed. According to their director: 'I declared that I could not expect my camera-men to film any more of such cruelties. All the camera-men were with me on that.'[30] In the company of close friends, Party officials and selected guests, Hitler would spend whole evenings watching such footage as had been filmed. He also had stills made, which Albert Speer reports seeing on his desk. Speer himself was invited to a showing, but declined in revulsion. The audience, he observed, consisted primarily of civilians and junior SS personnel. 'Not a single officer of the Wehrmacht attended.'[31] Despite the grisly fate awaiting them, the conspirators remained defiant, even parrying Freisler's abuse in the 'People's Court' and making themselves heard above his hysterical tirades. When sentenced to hang, Fellgiebel replied, 'Then hurry with the hanging, Mr President; otherwise you will hang earlier than we.'[32] 'Soon you will be in hell,' Freisler sneered at the lawyer Dr Josef Wirmer, one of the civilian conspirators. 'It will be my pleasure when you follow shortly, Mr President,' Wirmer retorted.[33] Field Marshal von Witzleben issued a similar prophecy: 'You can hand us over to the hangman. In three months, the enraged and tormented people will call you to account, and will drag you alive through the muck in the street.'[34] Hans Bernt von Haeften, brother of Stauffenberg's aide, was asked how he could possibly have broken faith with the Fuhrer. 'Because,' Haeften answered, 'I consider the Fuhrer the executor of the evil in history.'[35] On 21 July, the day after the abortive coup and just before his own suicide, Tresckow stated: Now they will all fall upon us and cover us with abuse. But I am convinced, now more than ever, that we have done the right thing. I believe Hitler to be the arch enemy not only of Germany, but indeed of the entire world . . . No one among us can complain about his death, for whoever joined our ranks put on the poisoned shirt of Nessus. A man's moral worth is established only at the point where he is prepared to give his life for his convictions.[36] He went on to say: In a few hours' time, I shall stand before God and answer for both my actions and the things I neglected to do. I think I can with a clear conscience stand by all I have done in the battle against Hitler. Just as God once promised Abraham that he would spare Sodom if only ten just men could be found in the city, I also have reason to hope that, for our sake, he will not destroy Germany.[37] Tresckow's unwavering certainty was echoed in the last words of other conspirators. Immediately before his execution, Julius Leber sent a statement to his associates: One's own life is a proper stake for so good and just a cause. We have done what lay in our power. It is not our fault that we all turned out like this, and not otherwise.[38] In a farewell letter to his mother, one of Stauffenberg's cousins, Peter Yorck von Wartenburg, wrote: Perhaps there will yet come a time that will judge us not as scoundrels but as prophets and patriots.[39] The night before his death, Yorck wrote to his wife: I, too, am dying for my country, and even if it seems to all appearances a very inglorious and disgraceful death, I shall hold up my head and I only hope that you will not believe this to be from pride or delusion. We wished to light the torch of life and now we stand in a sea of flames.[40] One of Stauffenberg's closest friends and associates was Count Fritz-Dietlof von der Schulenburg. Schulenburg's was among the oldest and wealthiest of Prussian 'Junker' families. Like Stauffenberg and Tresckow, Schulenburg himself was a passionate devotee of Stefan George's poetry. His wife's birthday was on 20 July. On the evening of the I 8th, he had returned home to visit her, saying he wished to celebrate in advance. The children were to be got out of bed again . . . When he drove away again in the early morning and sat on the driver's seat he . . . waved his cap like a civilian, bowed low and gravely and went off, to the laughter of the gesticulating children.[41]' No sooner had he reached Berlin than he learned that his brother had been killed in Normandy. In his trial before the 'People's Court', Schulenburg stated: We have accepted the necessity to do our deed in order to save Germany from untold misery. I expect to be hanged for this, but I do not regret my action and I hope that someone else in luckier circumstances will succeed.[42] Just before his execution, he wrote to his beloved wife: 'What we did was inadequate, but in the end history will judge and acquit us.'[43] Berlin's Ploetzensee Prison is still in use today, but the room in which the conspirators died is not. It is a cold room. At the end of it Opposite the entrance, five bleak meat hooks swing from a metal beam In front of these hooks, there are usually banks of flowers. Despite its grimly stark appearance, the atmosphere of the place suggests something of a shrine. People approach it deferentially, in small groups or singly. Their talk ceases. They stand in contemplative silence for a few moments, then walk slowly on. The nine months between 20 July 1944 and the end of the war in Europe were to witness an appalling loss of life. There was the prolonged Allied thrust from the Atlantic wall into Germany, with such major engagements as Arnhem and the so-called Battle of the Bulge; and the even more costly Russian advance from the east, into the shattered ruins of Berlin. There was also the Allied air offensive, with its sickening toll of both air crew and German civilians, which culminated in the devastation of Dresden. Lives continued to be lost at sea, as well as in occupied countries such as Greece and Yugoslavia. Thousands died in London from V-1 'buzz-bombs' and V-2 rockets. Most appalling of all, millions were exterminated in the death camps. Altogether, the last nine months of the war in Europe took more lives than the previous four years and eleven months of conflict. This statistic offers some gauge of the stakes involved in Stauffenberg's conspiracy. Had Hitler died on 20 duly 1944, the total casualties of the Second World War could have been halved. Stauffenberg himself eluded Hitler's vindictive sadism and the gruesome fate that befell so many of his co-conspirators. Shortly after midnight on the morning of 21 July, he, Olbricht, Haeften and Merz von Quirnheim were lined up before a pile of sand in an inner courtyard of the War Office. They were supposed to be shot in order of rank: Olbricht first, then Stauffenberg, then Merz, then Haeften. One of the latter two - Haeften according to some accounts, Merz according to others - is reported to have lunged in front of Stauffenberg and received the bullets intended for him. The firing squad was compelled to take aim again. An instant before the fatal shots cut him down, he shouted something defiant into the faces of his executioners. Amid the reverberating echoes from the surrounding walls, the words were indistinct. According to some accounts, he shouted: 'Es lebe unser heiliges Deutschland!' ('Long live our sacred Germany!') According to other accounts (and these would appear to be more accurate), Stauffenberg's last words invoked his master, the poet Stefan George, and the title of George's poem he had conferred on the German resistance: 'Es lebe unser geheimes Deutschland!' ('Long live our secret Germany!').[44] pp. 42-67 --[cont]-- Aloha, He'Ping, Om, Shalom, Salaam. Em Hotep, Peace Be, Omnia Bona Bonis, All My Relations. Adieu, Adios, Aloha. Amen. Roads End Kris DECLARATION & DISCLAIMER ========== CTRL is a discussion and informational exchange list. Proselyzting propagandic screeds are not allowed. Substance—not soapboxing! These are sordid matters and 'conspiracy theory', with its many half-truths, misdirections and outright frauds is used politically by different groups with major and minor effects spread throughout the spectrum of time and thought. That being said, CTRL gives no endorsement to the validity of posts, and always suggests to readers; be wary of what you read. CTRL gives no credeence to Holocaust denial and nazi's need not apply. Let us please be civil and as always, Caveat Lector. ======================================================================== Archives Available at: http://home.ease.lsoft.com/archives/CTRL.html http:[EMAIL PROTECTED]/ ======================================================================== To subscribe to Conspiracy Theory Research List[CTRL] send email: SUBSCRIBE CTRL [to:] [EMAIL PROTECTED] To UNsubscribe to Conspiracy Theory Research List[CTRL] send email: SIGNOFF CTRL [to:] [EMAIL PROTECTED] Om