Chapter 5
Whether in slit trenches, command bunkers, huddled under vehicles, or pressed against the bare earth, the men beneath the aerial bombardment suffered alone. Each individual’s ordeal was relieved only by solitary prayer, numbed shock, or in many cases unconsciousness. Only when the nightmare ended could any sort of order be restored. Even then, wires had been cut and delicate radios rendered unserviceable. In the early hours of the battle, effective counter measures depended on the initiative of isolated groups. While much of the ‘infantry veil’ melted away before the ground attack, pockets of resistance from Colombelles to Manneville stood like rocks against the incoming tide.
BECKER
Major Alfred Becker is remembered more as an engineer than as a charismatic fighting soldier. For all the sophisticated wireless equipment with which he equipped his unit, he was unable to exert ‘hands on’ command of all his mobile batteries throughout the battle of 18 July. His accounts of those batteries not under his direct control are sketchy at best. However, he had worthy deputies. The facts remain: throughout the morning of 18 July, the surviving mobile guns of Becker’s Abteilung underpinned the German resistance to the armoured onslaught; on every corner of the battlefield, the batteries Becker had extemporized in his Paris workshop played an active part.
French Hotchkiss H-39 chassis with a 7.5 cm Pak 40 anti-tank gun.
Major Alfred Becker.
Various accounts have reported Becker’s own claims that the only ‘important’ loss suffered by his Abteilung on 18 July was the near-total destruction of Hauptmann Eichorn’s 1. Batterie during the bombing. This has always appeared unlikely, given both the prominent role of the other batteries in the fighting and the relative weakness of their vehicles’ armour. It is now clear from photographic evidence that the other batteries did indeed suffer losses on various parts of the battlefield.
Before dawn, by 04.30 hours on 18 July, Becker was in the field to the north of Cagny in his armoured scout vehicle. To either side of his position were his third and fourth batteries, and he was in touch with his mobile headquarters and its antiaircraft screen of 2cm Flak 38 (six single guns and two four-barrelled Flakvierling, all mounted on French half-tracks) a kilometre to the south, using short-wave radio messages relayed by his accompanying armoured radio car. When first the Colombelles and Mondeville area to the west erupted in smoke and fire, followed shortly after Banneville and Emiéville to the east, Becker realised that an assault from the north was likely, and concentrated on keeping in touch with Eichorn’s 1. Batterie, closest to the expected avenue of attack. The precise position of this battery is unclear: Becker locates Eichorn’s guns at midnight, 17 July, just on the north-eastern side of Démouville. However, photographs of antitank guns and howitzers wrecked in open ground not far from Touffréville reveal that at least part of this battery was lost on the opposite, eastern side of the ‘armoured corridor’. Becker lost radio contact with Eichorn just before 07.00 hours, as the American medium bombers carpeted the whole area of the corridor. When Eichorn reported back to Becker’s command bunker later in the morning, it was to report the near-total loss of his battery’s vehicles. Even so, many of the crews had survived the immobilization of their armoured vehicles, to be taken prisoner by the advancing British.
Position of buildings on pictures opposite.
‘2’ Batterie 7.5 cm gun disabled and destroyed by retreating Germans.
The’Russian bakery’, with a battery observation post on the top floor. This building and the adjacent gable are visible on page 95.
Also forward was the second battery, under Hauptmann Förster. From his battery lookout post on the top floor of the Russian bakery at the northern end of Giberville (which served the immigrant labourers of the metalworks), Förster had a grandstand view of the opening battle. His five operational Pak 40 were deployed either side of the main street, his four howitzers 500 metres south, in open ground between the chateau and the railway. Much of the second battery story is conjecture, since Becker had no further contact that day. The battery probably underpinned the infantry garrison of Giberville, resisting the assault of the Canadian 8th Brigade. Advancing over open fields of wheat and turnips, the infantry of the Queen’s Own Regiment of Canada had lost their barrage, and even when supported by tanks of the 1st Hussars they experienced ‘a slow and painful fight through the village, constantly hampered by continuing fire from the factory area.’1 No doubt Förster’s howitzers supplemented that fire from the west. He left at least two antitank guns abandoned at the top of the village, apparently destroyed by their crews after becoming immobilized. After the fall of Giberville, it can be supposed that the surviving mobile guns moved west through the underpasses of the Minier railway embankment and on through Cormelles, taking up antitank positions in front of Ifs, between Cormelles and Bras. Quite possibly, these were the ‘5 Panthers’ reported moving across the rear of 3rd RTR, and firing away towards the north east, shortly before 13.15 hours. Panther tanks they certainly were not.
Of the remaining batteries, more is known. All three played their part in slowing the initial British advance. Alerted by the bombardment, they began to engage enemy tanks shortly after 08.00 hours, the battery commanders relaying back to Becker the interesting news that no infantry appeared to be accompanying the advancing tide of British tanks. The
Two views of a 2.Batterie 7.5 cm gun in Giberville; a second was destroyed across the road (page 93). A third view of this same vehicle is shown on page 96.
batteries then conducted phased withdrawals to prepared positions from which their thinly armoured vehicles could keep up an effective long-range antitank fire. Hauptmann Nösser’s 3. Batterie supported the garrison of Grentheville before falling back to the orchards around Soliers. Hauptmann Röpke’s 4. Batterie engaged 3rd RTR from the eastern flank of le Mesnil Frémentel before falling back to the south of Four (where it took up positions masking the emplacements of the greater part of the field artillery of 16. LFD). Oberleutnant Schreiner’s 5. Batterie began the day with one three-gun section either side of le Prieuré, using orchards for cover, and the battery howitzers south of the farm. From these positions, the sections withdrew in bounds to the woods between le Prieuré and Manneville, engaging the oncoming tank squadrons (who mistook the guns for ‘Tigers’ in the woods) before moving on to end the day in firing positions straddling the railway west of Frénouville. Many GOODWOOD histories unaccountably confuse the movements of these two batteries; their true destinations are clearly shown in Becker’s personal situation maps (Stellungs-Skizzen) of the day’s events. As will be seen later, the precise timing and paths of the two batteries’ moves south can only be conjectured. Nevertheless, it is certain that 4. Batterie was well clear of le Mesnil Frémentel before the Fifes’ lead squadrons passed through that same area, so it can confidently be inferred that Röpke was installed south of Four by 10.00 hours. The journey of 5. Batterie involved passing around or through Cagny: of that, more later.
Another view of the gun on page 95.
10.5 cm howitzer of 1.Batterie destroyed in open ground between Démouville and Touffréville.
Nearby, a 1.Batterie 7.5 cm gun destroyed in the open.
VON LUCK
Returning from leave in Paris, von Luck’s car travelled overnight to reduce the risk of air attack. Others too were making use of the precious hours of darkness, and the Mercedes was held up by the nightly supply convoys. Only some time after dawn did von Luck’s car approach his Frénouville command post. (He later estimated the time to be around 09.00 hours; shortly after 08.00 is much more likely, and by that time the sun was well up in the sky.) As ever in daylight, he scanned the skies while his driver covered the last few kilometres. Other than a certain haze in the west, nothing seemed amiss. The major looked forward to changing out of his dress uniform and having a little breakfast before reviewing his forward units.
Von Luck’s tranquillity was rudely shattered by the news of the early morning’s aerial bombardment. According to von Luck, he found his headquarters staff paralyzed by indecision. Abandoning thoughts of breakfast, von Luck quickly assessed which of his headquarters staff were coping with the emergency. One of these, his adjutant Oberleutnant Liebeskind, was despatched to divisional headquarters; another liaison officer was sent north to contact von Oppeln’s tank regiment. Von Luck then summoned his personal command tank and set out to see for himself what was happening.2 Von Luck tried to calm his crew by showing his own coolness: he offered cigarettes and together they set off along a minor road into Cagny.
Major von Luck (still wearing his ‘little pistol’) briefed by Leutnant Bandomir.
Von Luck surveys the scene; in the foreground is his adjutant, Oberleutnant Liebeskind.
Crossing Cagny very slowly, which was half destroyed, and coming to the western corner of Cagny I was absolutely upset about what I saw. About fifty to sixty British tanks already crossed the main road Caen – Vimont, direction south west, and some of them already over the railway, and further tanks were following from north east. It was quite clear to me that the British had started to move through our lines. It was clearly impossible to reach le Mesnil Frémentel.3
In moments, von Luck realised the seriousness of the situation. It was now around 09.00 hours and already strong enemy armoured forces were over six kilometres behind what had been the German front line, and streaming south. Von Luck’s first battalion, its headquarters in le Mesnil Frémentel, was cut off and for all he knew already overrun. The status of his second battalion, deployed to the north of Cagny, was unknown. Major Becker’s batteries and the division’s tanks were not in communication. There was nothing between his Frénouville headquarters and the enemy, nor any German forces close behind to reinforce the front.
What happened next is one of the best-known stories of the Normandy campaign, told many times with minor variations. Yet von Luck’s account remains the only known source. According to him,
‘I decided to drive back to my headquarters to organize new defence lines or counter attacks. Driving slowly through Cagny I suddenly saw a single antiaircraft battery of the air force with their guns in the air. I went over to the CO and informed him about what I have seen. And I gave a clear order to get immediately involved in this battle by fighting the British tanks. But, I got a flat refusal telling me that he was under air command and had nothing to do with our battle on the ground. So, I took my little pistol and asked him whether he would like to be killed immediately or get a high decoration. He decided for the latter. So, he got a clear order to get in position with his battery at the north west corner of Cagny, not to deal with the advancing tanks but with the following tanks coming from the north east.’4
This account raises many unanswered questions. Why was a Luftwaffe heavy battery positioned in Cagny? How had it survived the bombardment? Why is there no record of its deployment there and no trace of its presence nor of its (supposed) relocation in aerial photographs? These questions are addressed in Appendix IX.
Returning to his headquarters, von Luck began to receive a glimmer of hope. Major Becker was already there, bringing the welcome information that two of his batteries were in action on the far side of the battlefield, supporting surviving pockets of von Luck’s first battalion. Two more batteries were already in action on the eastern flank of the battle, and here von Luck’s second-battalion commander Hauptmann Kurz had used his own initiative to construct the beginnings of a defensive line. Shortly after came Kurz’s own report: he was holding west-facing blocking positions. Von Luck returned confirmation that Kurz was to hold the line between Touffréville and Emiéville. Liebeskind’s return from Division also brought some relief. Feuchtinger (now back at his post) could send nothing to the western side of the battle, but was releasing the divisional reconnaissance battalion to support von Luck in the east. On arrival towards the end of the morning, Major Brandt’s 21. Panzer-Aufklärungsabteilung had few of its armoured reconnaissance vehicles available for combat, but its greatest value to von Luck was its infantry strength. Just as the divisional Pionier Abteilung of specialized combat engineers was perfectly accustomed to holding the line as infantry, its three companies now garrisoning front-line strongpoints, so too were Brandt’s reconnaissance troops ready to serve as extra grenadiers. In this role they helped fill the yawning gap between Emiéville and Frénouville. They added some resilience to the fragile defensive screen of Becker’s guns, and the later-arriving antitank batteries which would coalesce during the afternoon into a hasty but effective Pakfront.
THE TANKS
As has been seen, barely a half-dozen of the 22. Panzerregiment tanks in Emiéville survived the bombing in a combat-ready state. Little better off, on the fringes of that target area, the survivors of Leutnant von Rosen’s company struggled to excavate and repair their heavy Tiger tanks. Their work was periodically interrupted by incoming artillery shells, and was all the harder since the company workshop technicians had been wiped out along with their vehicles with only a bomb crater marking their position. Digging out and repairing damage continued as sounds of enemy tanks and gunfire came closer. At length, by about 10.00 hours, a half-dozen tanks were more or less ready to move (estimates vary between six and eight tanks repaired). Von Rosen led the procession out through the north east gateway of the park, around the north and west walls, and onto a small rise south of Manneville. Even on this short drive, barely a mile, two of their number dropped behind with engines overheating.
Shortly after, a Tiger tank arrived bearing the ‘I’ insignia of the battalion commander. Sent to Paris for treatment of an inflamed eye, Hauptmann Fromme had returned that very morning to find his Abteilung in chaos. Though still unable to grasp the overall situation, Fromme was able to inform von Rosen that the acting commander, Hauptmann Scherf and the headquarters staff had survived in their Emiéville chateau, saved amidst the destruction by taking refuge in its narrow stairwell. Of 22. Panzerregiment, nothing was yet known, but its assembly area appeared to have been devastated. Von Rosen’s orders were confirmed: he was to remain in command of the company, anchoring the defensive line between Manneville and Cagny. 5
Stahlfeldwagen Hf.7, a horse-drawn carrier destroyed in the woods.
Von Rosen’s initial advance: tank tracks reveal the move to the ‘small rise’ south of Manneville. Later, Shermans were engaged close to the wood, before the turn south to Cagny.
About 11.00 hours, von Rosen’s tanks engaged a troop of Guards Armoured Division, probing eastwards from le Prieuré. The Shermans were driven off leaving two wrecks, one with its turret torn from its hull by an 8.8cm round. But the Tiger crews had received an unwelcome surprise. Only then did they realise the extent to which their gunsights had been affected by the bombardment. The normally reliable optics had been shaken out of alignment and ‘We needed three rounds now where only one would have been adequate before.’6 Consequently, von Rosen felt the need to open the range, to enable his guns to engage the enemy earlier. Sounds of battle were coming from the area of le Prieuré but the view in that direction was obscured by a small wood. His orders were to move south west, towards Cagny, to clear that wood before turning northwest to present the tanks’ frontal armour towards the enemy around le Prieuré.
Suddenly, two of the Tiger were hit in quick succession. Feldwebel Schönrock’s Tiger went up in flames. Its frontal armour had been cleanly penetrated. Moments later, Feldwebel Müller’s tank was similarly hit on its thick frontal armour and left burning. This was unprecedented. The Abteilung had lost Tiger tanks in Russia to mechanical breakdown, to unmarked minefields, or to flank shots which damaged engines and running gear. But losing a Tiger to hits on its front armour was a novel experience. Apparently facing some unknown weapon, von Rosen made a rapid decision: ‘I broke off the move as I could not pinpoint the source of the fire and did not want to suffer any further total losses.’7 Even as they fell back, a third Tiger, number 321, was hit on its muzzle brake, disabling its main gun. (See page 257)
The outcome of this probe, had it been allowed to continue towards le Prieuré, is a matter for speculation. An engagement between a half-dozen battered Tiger tanks and 5th Guards Armoured Brigade would have been an epic contest. At the very least, consternation would have been sowed behind 11th Armoured Division, threatening all the gains so far made and potentially imperilling the survival of 29th Brigade. As it was, von Rosen’s 3. Kompanie took little further part in the battle.
SUMMARY
The initial response to the British assault of 18 July was uncoordinated. Units directly in the path of the assault were stunned by the aerial bombardment. Dietrich’s I. SS-Panzerkorps was wrong-footed, with one division on its way to leave the area and the other facing west and some hours from the field of battle. Feuchtinger was absent at the outset, and indecisive on his arrival. Von Rosen was absent at the outset, and highly energetic on arrival, albeit within a fairly narrow command span. Fromme was absent at the outset, while his deputy Scherf started the battle walled-up with von Oppeln-Bronikowski and the 22. Panzerregiment staff as their chateau command post was destroyed around their ears. Scherf lost touch with his Abteilung for much of the morning, and von Oppeln soon found that his tank regiment had been effectively neutralized. Everywhere, the aerial bombardment severed effective communications. But deprived of high-level command and coordination, junior officers on every corner of the battlefield rose to the occasion, defending tenaciously with whatever means were at hand.
References
1
‘The Victory Campaign, vol III’, C P Stacey, 1960, p 171
2
Von Luck states that this was ‘a radio Panzer IV that the Panzer regiment had put at my disposal.’ While there is no reason to disbelieve the statement of an experienced soldier, if this was truly a specialized command tank, with reduced ammunition storage to accommodate extra radio equipment, it is not impossible that it was actually one of the Befehlspanzer III on the strength of 22. Panzerregiment.
3
Von Luck, interview at Staff College, Camberley, 1979
4
Von Luck, interview at Staff College, Camberley, 1979
5
Rubbel, p 242; ‘45 Tiger en Normandie’, Didier Lodieu, 2002, ISBN 2-84673-015-6, p 70-71
6
Rubbel, p 241
7
Von Rosen, interview at Staff College, Camberley, 1979