Fuhrer."
"Of course."
Rommel reached inside his briefcase, removed a pair of calipers, and walked to the map. In December, Hitler had ordered him to assume command of Army Group B along the Channel coast. Army Group B included the 7th Army in the Normandy area, the 15th Army between the Seine estuary and the Zuider Zee, and the Army of the Netherlands. Physically and psychologically recovered from his disastrous defeats in North Africa, the famed Desert Fox had thrown himself into his new assignment with an incredible display of energy, dashing about the French coast in his Mercedes 230 cabriolet at all hours, inspecting his coastal defenses and the disposition of his troops and armor. He had promised to turn the French coastline into a "Devil's garden"--a landscape of artillery, minefields, concrete fortifications, and barbed wire from which the enemy would never emerge. Yet privately, Rommel believed any fortification devised by man could be defeated by man.
Standing before the map, Rommel pulled open the calipers. "This represents the range of the enemy's Spitfire and Mustang fighter planes. These are the locations of major fighter bases in the south of England." He placed one end of the calipers on each of the sites and drew a series of arcs on the map. "As you can see, my Fuhrer, both Normandy and Calais are well within range of the enemy's fighters. Therefore, we must regard both areas as possible sites for the invasion."
Hitler nodded, impressed by Rommel's display. "Place yourself in the enemy's position for a moment, Herr Generalfeldmarshal. If you were attempting to invade France from England, where would you strike?"
Rommel made a brief show of thought, then said, "I must admit, my Fuhrer, that all signs point to an invasion at the Pas de Calais. But I cannot rid myself of the belief that the enemy would never attempt a frontal assault on our strongest concentration of forces. I am also tainted by the experience of Africa. The British engaged in deception before the battle of Alamein, and they will do so again before an invasion of France."
"And the Westwall, Herr Generalfeldmarshal? How is the work proceeding?"
"Much to be done, my Fuhrer. But we are making good progress."
"Will it be done before spring?"
"I believe so. But coastal fortifications alone cannot stop the enemy. We need to have our armor arrayed properly. And for that I'm afraid we need to know where they plan to strike. Nothing short of that will be of any use. If the enemy succeeds, the war may be lost."
"Nonsense," Heinrich Himmler said. "Under the Fuhrer, Germany's ultimate victory is beyond question. The beaches of France will be a graveyard for the British and the Americans."
"No," Hitler said, waving his hand, "Rommel is correct. If the enemy is able to secure a beachhead, the war is lost. But if we destroy the invasion before it ever gets started"--Hitler's head tilted back, eyes blazing--"it would take months to organize another attempt. The enemy would never try again. Roosevelt would never be re-elected. He might even end up in jail somewhere! British morale would collapse overnight. Churchill, that sick fat old man, would be destroyed! With the Americans and the British paralyzed, licking their wounds, we can take men and materiel from the West and pour them into the East. Stalin will be at our mercy. He will sue for peace. Of this, I am certain."
Hitler paused, allowing his words to sink in.
"But if the enemy is to be stopped we must know the location of the invasion," he said. "My generals think it will be Calais. I'm skeptical." He spun on his heel and glared at Canaris. "Herr Admiral, I want you to settle the argument."
"That may not be possible," Canaris said carefully.
"Is it not the task of the Abwehr to provide military intelligence?"
"Of course, my Fuhrer."
"You have spies operating inside Britain--this report about General Eisenhower's arrival in London is proof of that."
"Obviously, my Fuhrer."
"Then I suggest
"Of course."
Rommel reached inside his briefcase, removed a pair of calipers, and walked to the map. In December, Hitler had ordered him to assume command of Army Group B along the Channel coast. Army Group B included the 7th Army in the Normandy area, the 15th Army between the Seine estuary and the Zuider Zee, and the Army of the Netherlands. Physically and psychologically recovered from his disastrous defeats in North Africa, the famed Desert Fox had thrown himself into his new assignment with an incredible display of energy, dashing about the French coast in his Mercedes 230 cabriolet at all hours, inspecting his coastal defenses and the disposition of his troops and armor. He had promised to turn the French coastline into a "Devil's garden"--a landscape of artillery, minefields, concrete fortifications, and barbed wire from which the enemy would never emerge. Yet privately, Rommel believed any fortification devised by man could be defeated by man.
Standing before the map, Rommel pulled open the calipers. "This represents the range of the enemy's Spitfire and Mustang fighter planes. These are the locations of major fighter bases in the south of England." He placed one end of the calipers on each of the sites and drew a series of arcs on the map. "As you can see, my Fuhrer, both Normandy and Calais are well within range of the enemy's fighters. Therefore, we must regard both areas as possible sites for the invasion."
Hitler nodded, impressed by Rommel's display. "Place yourself in the enemy's position for a moment, Herr Generalfeldmarshal. If you were attempting to invade France from England, where would you strike?"
Rommel made a brief show of thought, then said, "I must admit, my Fuhrer, that all signs point to an invasion at the Pas de Calais. But I cannot rid myself of the belief that the enemy would never attempt a frontal assault on our strongest concentration of forces. I am also tainted by the experience of Africa. The British engaged in deception before the battle of Alamein, and they will do so again before an invasion of France."
"And the Westwall, Herr Generalfeldmarshal? How is the work proceeding?"
"Much to be done, my Fuhrer. But we are making good progress."
"Will it be done before spring?"
"I believe so. But coastal fortifications alone cannot stop the enemy. We need to have our armor arrayed properly. And for that I'm afraid we need to know where they plan to strike. Nothing short of that will be of any use. If the enemy succeeds, the war may be lost."
"Nonsense," Heinrich Himmler said. "Under the Fuhrer, Germany's ultimate victory is beyond question. The beaches of France will be a graveyard for the British and the Americans."
"No," Hitler said, waving his hand, "Rommel is correct. If the enemy is able to secure a beachhead, the war is lost. But if we destroy the invasion before it ever gets started"--Hitler's head tilted back, eyes blazing--"it would take months to organize another attempt. The enemy would never try again. Roosevelt would never be re-elected. He might even end up in jail somewhere! British morale would collapse overnight. Churchill, that sick fat old man, would be destroyed! With the Americans and the British paralyzed, licking their wounds, we can take men and materiel from the West and pour them into the East. Stalin will be at our mercy. He will sue for peace. Of this, I am certain."
Hitler paused, allowing his words to sink in.
"But if the enemy is to be stopped we must know the location of the invasion," he said. "My generals think it will be Calais. I'm skeptical." He spun on his heel and glared at Canaris. "Herr Admiral, I want you to settle the argument."
"That may not be possible," Canaris said carefully.
"Is it not the task of the Abwehr to provide military intelligence?"
"Of course, my Fuhrer."
"You have spies operating inside Britain--this report about General Eisenhower's arrival in London is proof of that."
"Obviously, my Fuhrer."
"Then I suggest
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