Hans Von Luck - Panzer Commander Page 6

  Rommel had agreed to my suggestion that the company should be led by Almus, who was well known to all the men and NCOS, and not by an officer brought in from the Officer Reserve.

  I enjoined all the men to behave correctly toward the civilian France, 1940 43 population and not play the conqueror. The inhabitants rewarded us for this behavior. Not once did we hear the words sale Boche (“dirty German”).

  During these days medals were awarded with due ceremony. I received the Iron Cross I Class. After the award of the Knight's Cross, Rommel came back from Hitier's advanced headquarters at Charieville and sent for us commanders to issue us new orders. The gist of what he said was as follows.

  "The advance movement has led to complete success. Now it is a matter of encircling the British and preventing the bulk of them from retreating to their island.

  “The enemy is exposed to annihilation,” he went on in his Swabian dialect. “We shall thrust forward across the Somme to the Seine and not bother about our opponents, whom we will overtake or leave behind on our right and left flanks. Our goal is the Seine, which we must reach at Rouen, on the right wing of the Corps. In so doing we shall try to capture the Seine bridges intact. Carry on as before. I have complete confidence in you.” On 5 and 6 June we -advanced in “open battle order” across the flat terrain, avoiding the main roads, along which the civilian popu-, lation and retreating elements of the French 10th Army were moving south. We reached the Somme and took ion of its bridges, surprisingly intact. Always up at the front was the reconnaissance battalion. After us came the tanks, then the grenadier regiments, and the artillery. We no longer bothered about the enemy and had not time to take prisoners. On the far side of the Somme we suddenly came upon resistance, the Weypnd Line.

  I had the motorcycle escorts break off and attack under covering fire. I was with them myself and was forced to take cover as we came under heavy artillery fire. Then I heard a voice behind me, “Captain, your breakfast.” I turned around and coul4n't believe my eyes. One of my runners, Lance-Corporal Fritsche, a'hotelier from the Saarland, had crawled forward through enemy fire carrying a tray with some sandwiches, which were even garnished with parsley and a paper napkin.

  “Man, are you mad? I'm hungry all right, but at the moment I have other things to do than eat breakfast.”

  “Yes, I know, but a hungry commander gets nervous. I feel responsible for your welfare.” And he was off again, back through the fire.

  The men around me, who were lying in full cover, just shook their heads and found it quite in order that I was able, somewhat later, to pin the Iron Cross II Class on this man.

  With the support of tanks and artillery, the Weygand Line was successfully breached. In only two days we covered about 100 kilometers of open terrain and on 7 June reached the Seine at Rouen. There the Luftwaffe had done quite a job. From afar we could already see huge clouds of black smoke hanging in the sky.

  From the hills on the southern edge of Rouen we saw the burning oil tanks and the harbor, but also the Seine bridges, every one of which had been destroyed. I reported this to Rommel, who ordered the hills to be held until the arrival of new instructions. it will be a hard crossing," we all thought to ourselves.

  Next day came the new order: “The division will leave the Seine and turn west, so as to reach the Channel coast north of Le Havre. In the harbors between Le Havre and Dieppe there are said to be British units still, waiting to be evacuated.” On 8 and 9 June we pushed forward in the direction of the Channel coast. The French and British covered the planned evacuation with hastily constructed lines of defense.

  At this point, I received from Rommel one of his unorthodox, mad" commissions. After my battalion had reached its first objective on the evening of 8 June, and in so doing had thrust at times straight through French columns without bothering about prisoners or resistance on our flanks, just as Rommel had ordered, he appeared at my command post, sat down at a table and studied the map.

  "Von Luck, you will fall in tomorrow morning before daylight and push through to the west for about 30 kilometers. There you will reach a hill from which you can overlook the whole terrain.

  Take the hill and establish yourself there until I arrive with the tanks. Don't look to left or right, only forward all the time. If you get into difficulties let me know.“ My intelligence had reported meanwhile that the Allies had set up a strong antitank front 5 kilometers to the west. It was obvious to me that I could not possibly reach the objective with my lightly armed recce battalion. But I knew Rommel, and knew that he set goals as distantly as possible, and that he would not tolerate contradiction but expected his commanders to try and do as well as they could. (I was able to observe again and againpecially in North Africa-how commanders opposed his orders, which often seemed impossible to carry out, and were promptly replaced.) So without France, 1940 45 raising objections, I said, ”General, I have understood your commission. As I see from the map, the hill to be taken is only about 10 kilometers from the coast. Why shouldn't I push on at once to the Channel, then we could at least have a bath?" Rommel laughed; he liked such reactions from his commanders.

  So we fell in next morning and, as was to be anticipated, came upon strong antitank defenses, against which we had nothing to throw in. We made only 5 kilometers progress in all. I reported this to Rommel. Shortly after he came to us and satisfied himself personally of the situation.

  “I'll have artillery laid on at once and have some tanks push through. Then proceed as before, in accordance with my orders.” The eyes of the men around me were shining. They had faith in Rommel and knew that he would give no orders that endangered their lives unnecessarily.

  Rommel's tactics worked-we got through and resumed the advance.

  On 9 June we reached the coast. Rommel sent off his famous signal to headquarters: “Am at sea.” Further north lay the little port of St. Val6ry sur Mir, in which according to aerial reconnaissance there were still considerable Allied forces.

  Rommel sent for me.

  “I am going to take St. Val6ry with the division. You will keep one 88mm battery as support and take the little port of F6camp south of here and secure the Le Havre direction.” While Rommel advanced with the division on St. Val6ry, where he encountered stiff resistance, there began for my armored reconnaissance battalion one of the oddest, indeed almost amusing episodes of the French campaign. With scout car patrols in front, to keep a look-out and protect us against surprise, we marched along the cliff-top road the 30 or so kilometers to the south. We met with no opposition. Here even civilian traffic had petered gut.

  By the evening of 9 June we were on the hills north of F6camp.

  We moved quietly, for no one was supposed to know of our presence. We had to exploit the effect of surprise.

  We could see the little harbor, in which lay two British destroyers. They were obviously there for the evacuation. We could see the promenade with pretty villas and a casino, as we supposed. In the harbor and on the streets we could detect a good deal of enemy movement. The French and British seemed to be preparing for embarkation. To our astonishment neither the harbor nor the town itself was secured by outposts on the high ground. No one seemed to be expecting us. The evening sun bathed this pretty resort in a warm light.

  Bearing in mind the relative forces and the presence of the two destroyers, I thought of a plan for the following morning, which I explained that evening to the company commanders and the leader of the 88mm battery.

  “The hills before F6camp will be occupied by the motorcycle escorts, the armored scout cars will hold back, so that they can intervene where necessary, the heavy company will secure the motorcycle escorts. The 88s will be positioned on the cliffs in such a way that they can attack the two destroyers, both in the harbor and at sea should they leave it. Everything must be done without attracting attention. No loud commands, no unnecessary vehicle movements.” I sent for Kardorff, my orderly officer. Kardorff spoke fluent French, having attended a French school in Berli
n.

  “Kardorff, tomorrow morning you will go to F6camp with a runner and a white flag, ask for the local commander and demand the surrender of the whole garrison. Tell him that the town is surrounded on all sides and that the two destroyers must leave the harbor immediately without taking anyone on board. All clear?” Early in the morning Kardorff went off. We saw him disappear into the town. Would my trick work? After a short time Kardorff came back.

  “The mayor and the French commandant seem to agree, but the British flatly decline.” What now? I couldn't lose face, so had to go on with the game. m6 Toward 10:00 A.M. I sent for Kardorff once more. "Go into the town again and tell the mayor that I should like to spare his beautiful resort. He might care to exert his influence on the Allied commanders in the interests of the inhabitants.

  Hans Von Luck - Panzer Commander

  There is no escape, only unnecessary loss. If the garrison again declines to surrender, I will open fire on the town and harbor at twelve o'clock with every gun, and call up the Luftwaffe for bombardment." Kardorff went into the town once more and again came back with a refusal. I sent for the company commanders and the leader of the 88mm battery.

  “We shall have to keep our word now and open fire on the town punctually at twelve o'clock,” I said.

  Apart from the 88s, I had only a 3.7cm antitank gun, the 2cm guns of the scout cars and the normal machine-gun equipment of France, 1940 47 the motorcycle escorts. So my orders were: "Punctually at 1200 hours fire will be opened from every gun, including signal pistols, to pretend that we're stronger than we really are. The 88s will try to set the destroyers on fire; aim for the gun-turrets and the bridges.,, Everybody made preparations. We were in a strange mood. No one wanted to destroy this famous resort. At 11:30, a civilian came up the hill. He held a white cloth in his hand. He was brought before me.

  “What's going on in the town, Monsieur? Why doesn't your mayor surrender the place?” I asked him. “Tell me where the British are and which buildings are important.” The man said he had been afraid and that was why he had run away. The British were mainly in the harbor, preparing the ethbarkation. "They're clearing out and leaving us to our fate.

  Please spare the town. Look, the building over there is the old Benedictine monastery; there in the middle is the old town hall, and there, on the promenade, is our casino.“ I put two and two together and asked, ”The monastery, is that where the famous Benedictine liqueur is made?"

  “Yes, that's the place,” he replied.

  At that I sent for the commanders again and gave directions, “The monastery, the town hall, and the casino are not to be touched. Concentrate on the harbor and the radio station. The 88s will destroy the radio station first and then concentrate on the destroyers.” Luck was on our side. A few minutes before twelve a squadron of Luftwaffe bombes flew over the town, obviously on their way to England. In addition, one machine dropped three bombs, whether by mistake or to hit the destroyers we didn't know. At the same moment I ordered “Fire!” A somewhat ineffective but nonetheless intensive hail of shots fell on the harbor like fireworks. We all had to laugh as blue, red, and yellow tracer ammunition provided a backdrop.

  Suddenly a white flag went up over the town hall: capitulation!

  The two destroyers left the harbor full steam ahead and began to shoot at our positions. Unfortunately that cost us a few casualties, until the 88s managed to hit one of the destroyers, which continued its voyage under a smoke screen.

  I at once ordered cease fire and summoned Kardorff.

  “We will both go into the town now and arrange the surrender.” At that moment a couple of Wellington bombers came flying toward us. The 88s opened fire immediately. One machine went down in flames. The crew hung from their parachutes and landed right in my positions.

  “You're in luck,” I greeted them. “You'll be staying here with me for the time being.” We then set off in a scout car on our journey into the town, where the mayor handed me the key to the resort.

  “Monsieur le Maire, I ordered your town hall, the monastery, and the casino not to be hit out of respect for these historic buildinp. La guerre est finie pour vous; bring the inhabitants out of the cellars, open the shops. We will pay in genuine currency. Nothing will happen to any of you.” in all those weeks I had seldom seen such a grateful and surprised Frenchman as that mayor. While I stayed with him, I sent Kardorff up the hill to bring the commanders to me. I ordered the southern hills to be occupied, the radio station to be switched off, and feelers to be put out to the south by reconnaissance patrols. The town was to be hermetically sealed on all sides. Half of every unit was to have a few hours free in turn, to take a bath in the sea and to go shopping. I reported by radio to Rommel that F6camp had been captured with light casualties, only a half dozen, that many French and British had been made prisoner, nearly 200 men, and that protective measures had been taken to the south.

  Rommel radioed back, “Bravo von Luck. You remain responsible for the town. My ultimatum for the surrender of St. Val6ry has been rejected. I am preparing bomb attacks and an attack with tanks.” The following day Rommel radioed, "St. Val6ry has surrendered.

  Several generals, including the commander of the 51st Highland Division, and thousands of prisoners taken. The division has one to two days' rest.“ We were ovedoyed. On the spur of the moment I asked Rommel by radio, ”Can you send me the divisional band? The inhabitants are grateful and friendly. In addition I have sealed off the town on all sides, even to German 'visitors,“ except for you personally, of course. Have I your agreement?” Rommel understood a bit of fun; he was in a good mood after his success and consented to both the band and the sealing off of the town.

  With the major and my adjutant I now viewed the resort. We first visited the Benedictine monastery, where we were greeted b“ the abbot. ”Monsieur IABB6 (I should have called him Mon France, 1940 49 gneur), I heard about your monastery at the last minute before the shelling of the town and at once ordered that no shot was to fall on your building. I hope everything is intact." The abbot thanked me effusively for our forbearance and asked whether he might show me the monastery. I am somewhat ashamed to admit that the Benedictine liqueur was one of the decisive factors in sparing the monastery. As we descended to the cellars, I could see thousands of bottles and a large number of old barrels.

  “Does the famous Benedictine come from these cellars?” I asked innocently.

  “It certainly does, and to show our gratitude I should like to ofrer all your men a bottle.” The abbot paled when I told him the strength of my unit, 1,100 men. But he kept his word.

  Since that day I have always drunk Benedictine with particular respect.

  On the afternoon of 12 June, probably for the only time during the campaign, a German band gave a promenade concert in front of the casino. French and German soldiers strolled about together on the promenade and were glad that the battle for F6camp had been executed so bloodlessly.

  I instructed my “hotelier”-the runner with the breakfast-to do some shopping and prepare a meal for that evening in the casino.

  He was now in his element. Then the mayor appeared with a German U-boat officer, whose ship had been shot up in the Channel. He was the only one to be taken prisoner by the French. “In the excitement of yesterday we forgot that we had this gentleman in our prison,” the mayor apologized.

  Sitting together dt the festive table that evening were the officers of tiy battalion, the successful leader of the 88mm battery, a German U-boat officer, and the crew of a British Wellington bomber, besides the mayor of F6camp.

  On 15 and 16 June we were set on the march agai Le Havre was left alone and would be taken by other units. Rommel told us that we were now to cross the Seine; the bridges had been rebuilt and substantial bridgeheads secured. Our goal now was the naval port of Cherbourg, which had been developed as a fortress and was to become an important base for our navy.

  We crossed the Seine on 17 June and literally “stormed” through Normandy to
ward Cherbourg. On that day we covered nearly 350 kilometers, our reconnaissance battalion, because of its greater mobilty, again forming the spearhead.

  Early on 18 June we were at the outer forts of the Cherbourg citadel. Rommel at once called for Stukas, which bombed fort after fort. On 19 June, at a formal ceremony, the French commandant surrendered the fortress. Rommel was very courteous and paid tribute to the garrison. I believe this fair attitude, which he himself always showed toward the defeated enemy, earned him respecteven abroad.

  Rommel was already somewhat vain, but we were happy to overlook this. He always had his camera on hand, to photograph the most important scenes. He was taken to task later because he had obviously “improved” the figures for his achievements. In the main, though, it was his unconventional mode of fighting that evoked the criticism of him, and also the envy of some senior officers. According to Rommel's account, the division had taken 97,648 prisoners in six weeks, against losses of its own of 1,600 dead and wounded. Certainly a proud balance.

  We did not stop at Cherbourg, but pushed on south at once through Brittany, in the general direction of Rennes and Nantes on the Loire. A captured French captain told Rommel, as I translated, that Marshal P6tain had offered an armistice. In spite of that, we advanced further south so as to control if possible the whole Atlantic coast. St. Nazaire and La Rochelle fell into our hands; practically no resistance was offered any more. The stream of refugees gradually dried up; half of Paris seemed to have fled south to the Mediterranean coast and to Bordeaux. On 21 June the armistice was signed at Compipe; of its provisos we at first heard nothing.

  On we went south. “Bordeaux is our goal,” said Rommel. When I arrived with the first elements' of my reconnaissance battalion at the Gironde, a river north of Bordeaux, Rommel told us to stop. At a briefing of commanders we heard that P6tain was still in ]3ordeaux with his provisional government, but would be transferring his seat to Vichy, in the part of France not to be occupied by us.