Hitler. Part 12

But the impact of the charade was not lost on Schuschnigg. The threat of military invasion seemed very real. Eventually, Papen brokered a number of alterations in the German demands and, under pressure, the Austrians finally accepted the chief difficulty, the appointment of Sey-Inquart. Hitler told Schuschnigg: 'For the first time in my life I have made up my mind to reconsider a final decision.' With a heavy heart, Schuschnigg signed.

Two weeks later, when laying down directives for the restless Austrian NSDAP, which had threatened to upset developments through its own wild schemes for disturbances, Hitler emphasized that he wanted to proceed along 'the evolutionary way whether or not the possibility of success could be envisaged at present. The protocol signed by Schuschnigg,' he went on, 'was so far-reaching that if implemented in full the Austrian Question would automatically be solved. A solution through force was something he did not now want if it could in any way be avoided, since for us the foreign-policy danger is diminishing from year to year and the military strength becoming year by year greater.' Hitler's approach was at this time still in line with Goring's evolutionary policy. He plainly reckoned that the tightening of the thumb-screws on Schuschnigg at the February meeting had done the trick. Austria was no more than a German satellite. Extinction of the last remnants of independence would follow as a matter of course. Force was not necessary.

In line with the 'Trojan horse' policy of eroding Austrian independence from the inside, following the Berchtesgaden meeting Hitler had complied with demands from Sey-Inquart matching earlier representations by Schuschnigg himself to depose Captain Josef Leopold, the leader of the unruly Austrian National Socialists, and his a.s.sociates. Even so, the meeting at the Berghof and Hitler's speech on 20 February, his first broadcast in full on Austrian radio stating that 'in the long run' it was 'unbearable' for Germans to look on the separation of 10 million fellow Germans by borders imposed through peace treaties had given the Austrian n.a.z.is a new wind. Disturbances mounted, especially in the province of Styria, in the south-east of the country, where resentment at the loss of territory to the new state of Yugoslavia after the First World War had helped fuel the radicalism that had turned the region into a hotbed of Austrian n.a.z.ism. The situation was by now highly volatile, the n.a.z.is barely controllable by Austrian state forces. Schuschnigg's own emotional appeals to Austrian patriotism and independence had merely exacerbated the tension within the country and further irritated Hitler. At the same time, Schuschnigg, evidently impressed by Hitler's threats to use force and anxious to avoid anything that might occasion this, was rea.s.suring Britain, France, and Italy that he had the situation in hand rather than rousing foreign sympathy at German strong-arm tactics. The resignation as Foreign Secretary on 21 February of Anthony Eden, despised by the German leadership, and his replacement by Lord Halifax was meanwhile seen in Berlin as a further indication of British appeas.e.m.e.nt.

The same tone came across in comments of Sir Nevile Henderson, the British Amba.s.sador in Berlin, when he met Hitler on 3 March. Hitler, in a vile mood, was unyielding. If Britain opposed a just settlement in Austria, where Schuschnigg had the support of only 15 per cent of the population, Germany would have to fight, he declared. And if he intervened, he would do so like lightning. His aim was nevertheless 'that the just interests of the German Austrians should be secured and an end made to oppression by a process of peaceful evolution'. However inadequately the undermining of the Austrian state from within through a combination of infiltration and agitation, backed by German bullying, could be described as 'peaceful evolution', pressure-tactics, not armed takeover, still formed the preferred solution to the Austrian Question.

Such notions were thrown overboard by Schuschnigg's wholly unexpected decision, announced on the morning of 9 March, to hold a referendum on Austrian autonomy four days later. The n.a.z.is themselves had been pressing for years for a plebiscite on Anschlu, confident that they would gain ma.s.sive support for an issue backed by large numbers of Austrians since 1919. But Schuschnigg's referendum, asking voters to back 'a free and German, independent and social, Christian and united Austria; for freedom and work, and for the equality of all who declare for race and fatherland', was couched in a way that could scarcely fail to bring the desired result. It would be a direct rebuff to union with Germany. German plans were immediately thrown into disarray. Hitler's own prestige was at stake. The moves that followed, culminating in the German march into Austria and the Anschlu, were all now improvised at breakneck speed.

The German government was completely taken aback by Schuschnigg's gamble. Hitler was at first incredulous. But his astonishment rapidly gave way to mounting fury at what he saw as a betrayal of the Berchtesgaden agreement. When Goebbels was suddenly summoned to Hitler's presence, Goring was already there. He was told of Schuschnigg's move 'an extremely dirty trick' to 'dupe' the Reich through 'a stupid and idiotic plebiscite'. The trio were still unsure how to act. They considered replying either by n.a.z.i abstention from the plebiscite (which would have undermined its legitimacy), or by sending 1,000 aeroplanes to drop leaflets over Austria 'and then actively intervening'. For the time being, the German press was instructed to publish nothing at all about Austria.

By late at night, perhaps egged on by Goring, Hitler was warming up. Goebbels was again called in. Glaise-Horstenau, on a visit in southern Germany when suddenly summoned to Berlin by Goring, was also present. 'The Fuhrer drastically outlines for him his plans,' Goebbels recorded. 'Glaise recoils from the consequences.' But Hitler, who went on to discuss the situation alone with Goebbels until 5 a.m., was now 'in full swing' and showing 'a wonderful fighting mood'. 'He believes the hour has arrived,' noted Goebbels. He wanted to sleep on it. But he was sure that Italy and England would do nothing. Action from France was possible, but not likely. 'Risk not so great as at the time of the occupation of the Rhineland' was the conclusion.

Just how unprepared the German leadership had been was shown by the fact that the Foreign Minister, Ribbentrop, was in London, Reichenau had to be recalled from Cairo, and General Erhard Milch (Goring's right-hand man in the Luftwaffe) was summoned from holiday in Switzerland. Goring himself was scheduled to preside over the military court to hear the Fritsch case, meeting for the first time on 10 March. The hearing was abruptly adjourned when a courier brought a message demanding Goring's presence in the Reich Chancellery. Goebbels had also been called there, arriving to find Hitler deep in thought, bent over maps. Plans were discussed for transporting 4,000 Austrian n.a.z.is who had been exiled to Bavaria, together with a further 7,000 paramilitary reservists.

The Wehrmacht leadership was taken completely by surprise through Hitler's demand for plans for military intervention. Keitel, abruptly ordered to the Reich Chancellery on the morning of 10 March, spinelessly suggested calling in Brauchitsch and Beck, knowing full well that no plans existed, but wishing to avoid having to tell this to Hitler. Brauchitsch was not in Berlin. Beck despairingly told Keitel: 'We have prepared nothing, nothing has happened, nothing.' But his objections were dismissed out of hand by Hitler. He was sent away to report within hours on which army units would be ready to march on the morning of the 12th.

Around midnight Goebbels was once more called to see Hitler. 'The die is cast,' he noted. 'On Sat.u.r.day march in. Push straight to Vienna. Big aeroplane action. The Fuhrer is going himself to Austria. Goring and I are to stay in Berlin. In a week Austria will be ours.' He discussed the propaganda arrangements with Hitler, then returned to his Ministry to work on them until 4 a.m. No one was now allowed to leave the Ministry till the 'action' began. The activity was feverish. 'Again a great time. With a great historical task ... It's wonderful,' he wrote.

Prominent in Hitler's mind that morning of 11 March was Mussolini's likely reaction. Around midday, he sent a handwritten letter, via his emissary Prince Philipp of Hesse, telling the Duce that as a 'son of this [Austrian] soil' he could no longer stand back but felt compelled to intervene to restore order in his homeland, a.s.suring Mussolini of his undiminished sympathy, and stressed that nothing would alter his agreement to uphold the Brenner border. But whatever the Duce's reaction, Hitler had by then already put out his directive for 'Case Otto', expressing his intention, should other measures the demands put by Sey Inquart to Schuschnigg fail, of marching into Austria. The action, under his command, was to take place 'without use of force in the form of a peaceful entry welcomed by the people'.

Hitler had put the first ultimatum around 10 a.m., demanding that Schuschnigg call off the referendum for two weeks to allow a plebiscite similar to that in the Saarland in 1935 to be arranged. Schuschnigg was to resign as Chancellor to make way for Sey-Inquart. All restrictions on the National Socialists were to be lifted. When Schuschnigg, around 2.45 p.m., accepted the postponement of the plebiscite but rejected the demand to resign, Goring acted on his own initiative in repeating the ultimatum for the Chancellor's resignation and replacement by Sey. Looking hara.s.sed and tense, Sey put the ultimatum to the Austrian cabinet, remarking that he was no more than 'a girl telephone switchboard operator'. At this point, the military preparations in Germany were continuing, 'but march in still uncertain', recorded Goebbels. Plans were discussed for making Hitler Federal President, to be acclaimed by popular vote, 'and then bit by bit to complete the Anschlu'. In the immediate future, the 'coordination' of Austria, not the complete Anschlu, was what was envisaged.

Then news came through that only part of the second ultimatum had been accepted. Schuschnigg's desperate plea for British help had solicited a telegram from Lord Halifax, baldly stating: 'His Majesty's Government are unable to guarantee protection.' About 3.30 p.m. Schuschnigg resigned. But President Wilhelm Miklas was refusing to appoint Sey Inquart as Chancellor. A further ultimatum was sent to Vienna, expiring at 7.30 p.m. By now Goring was in full swing. Returning to the Reich Chancellery in the early evening, Nicolaus von Below found him 'in his element', constantly on the phone to Vienna, the complete 'master of the situation'. Just before eight o'clock that evening, Schuschnigg made an emotional speech on the radio, describing the ultimatum. Austria, he said, had yielded to force. To spare bloodshed, the troops would offer no resistance.

By now, n.a.z.i mobs were rampaging through Austrian cities, occupying provincial government buildings. Local n.a.z.i leaders were hoping for Gleichschaltung Gleichschaltung through a seizure of power from within to forestall an invasion from Germany. Goring pressed Sey-Inquart to send a prearranged telegram, dictated from Berlin, asking the German government for help to 'restore order' in the Austrian cities, 'so that we have legitimation', as Goebbels frankly admitted. At 8.48 p.m. Sey was still refusing to send the telegram. Goring replied that the telegram need not be sent; all Sey needed do was to say 'agreed'. Eventually, the telegram was sent at 9.10 p.m. It was irrelevant. Twenty-five minutes earlier, persuaded by Goring that he would lose face by not acting after putting the ultimatum, Hitler had already given the Wehrmacht the order to march. Brauchitsch had left the Reich Chancellery, the invasion order in his pocket, depressed and worried about the response abroad. Just before 10.30 p.m. Hitler heard the news he had been impatiently awaiting: Mussolini was prepared to accept German intervention. 'Please tell Mussolini I will never forget him for it, never, never, never, come what may,' a hugely relieved Hitler gushed over the telephone to Philipp of Hesse. 'If he should ever need any help or be in any danger, he can be sure that do or die I shall stick by him, come what may, even if the whole world rises against him,' he added, carried away by his elation. through a seizure of power from within to forestall an invasion from Germany. Goring pressed Sey-Inquart to send a prearranged telegram, dictated from Berlin, asking the German government for help to 'restore order' in the Austrian cities, 'so that we have legitimation', as Goebbels frankly admitted. At 8.48 p.m. Sey was still refusing to send the telegram. Goring replied that the telegram need not be sent; all Sey needed do was to say 'agreed'. Eventually, the telegram was sent at 9.10 p.m. It was irrelevant. Twenty-five minutes earlier, persuaded by Goring that he would lose face by not acting after putting the ultimatum, Hitler had already given the Wehrmacht the order to march. Brauchitsch had left the Reich Chancellery, the invasion order in his pocket, depressed and worried about the response abroad. Just before 10.30 p.m. Hitler heard the news he had been impatiently awaiting: Mussolini was prepared to accept German intervention. 'Please tell Mussolini I will never forget him for it, never, never, never, come what may,' a hugely relieved Hitler gushed over the telephone to Philipp of Hesse. 'If he should ever need any help or be in any danger, he can be sure that do or die I shall stick by him, come what may, even if the whole world rises against him,' he added, carried away by his elation.

At midnight, President Miklas gave in. Sey-Inquart was appointed Federal Chancellor. All German demands had now been met. But the invasion went ahead. As the American journalist William Shirer, observing the scenes in Vienna, cynically commented: with the invasion Hitler broke the terms of his own ultimatum. The 'friendly visit' of German troops began at 5.30 a.m.

Later that morning, Hitler, accompanied by Keitel, landed in Munich, en route for his triumphal entry into Austria, leaving Goring to serve as his deputy in the Reich. By midday, the cavalcade of grey Mercedes, with open tops despite the freezing weather, had reached Muhldorf am Inn, close to the Austrian border. General Fedor von Bock, Commander-in-Chief of the newly formed 8th Army, hastily put together in two days out of troop units in Bavaria, could tell Hitler that the German troops had been received with flowers and jubilation since crossing the border two hours earlier. Hitler listened to the report of reactions abroad by Reich Press Chief Otto Dietrich. He did not expect either military or political complications, and gave the order to drive on to Linz.

Back in Berlin, Frick was drafting a set of laws to accommodate the German takeover in Austria. A full Anschlu the complete incorporation of Austria, marking its disappearance as a country was still not envisaged; at any rate, not in the immediate future. Elections were prescribed for 10 April, with Austria 'under Germany's protection'. Hitler was to be Federal President, determining the const.i.tution. 'We can then push along the development as we want,' commented Goebbels. Hitler himself had not hinted at an Anschlu in his proclamation, read out at midday by Goebbels on German and Austrian radio, stating only that there would be a 'true plebiscite' on Austria's future and fate within a short time.

Shortly before 4 p.m., Hitler crossed the Austrian border over the narrow bridge at his birthplace, Braunau am Inn. The church-bells were ringing. Tens of thousands of people, in ecstasies of joy, lined the streets of the small town. But Hitler did not linger. Propaganda value, not sentiment, had dictated his visit. Braunau played its brief symbolic part. That sufficed. The cavalcade pa.s.sed on its triumphal journey to Linz.

Progress was much slower than expected because of the jubilant crowds packing the roadsides. It was in darkness, four hours later, that Hitler eventually reached the Upper Austrian capital. His bodyguards pushed a way through the crowd so that he could go the last few yards to the town hall on foot. Peals of bells rang out; the rapturous crowd was screaming 'Heil'; Sey-Inquart could hardly make himself heard in his introductory remarks. Hitler looked deeply moved. Tears ran down his cheeks. In his speech on the balcony of the Linz town hall, he told the ma.s.ses, constantly interrupting him with their wild cheering, that Providence must have singled him out to return his homeland to the German Reich. They were witnesses that he had now fulfilled his mission.

Once more, plans were rapidly altered. He had meant to go straight on to Vienna. But he decided to stay in Linz throughout the next day, Sunday the 13th, and enter Vienna on the Monday. The extraordinary reception had made a huge impact on him. He was told that foreign newspapers were already speaking of the 'Anschlu' of Austria to Germany as a fait accompli. It was in this atmosphere that the idea rapidly took shape of annexing Austria immediately.

In an excited mood, Hitler was heard to say that he wanted no half-measures. Stuckart, from the Reich Ministry of the Interior, was hurriedly summoned to Linz to draft legislation. In an interview he gave to the British journalist Ward Price, Hitler hinted that Austria would become a German province 'like Bavaria or Saxony'. He evidently pondered the matter further during the night. The next day, 13 March, the Anschlu, not intended before the previous evening, was completed. Hitler's visit to Leonding, where he laid flowers on his parents' grave and returned to the house where the family had lived, meeting some acquaintances he had not seen for thirty years, perhaps reinforced the belief, stimulated the previous evening by his reception in Linz, that Providence had predestined him to reunite his homeland with the Reich.

Stuckart had meanwhile arrived overnight and was drafting the 'Law for the Reunion of Austria with the German Reich', put together in all haste through much toing and froing between Stuckart in Linz and Keppler in Vienna. Around 5 p.m. the Austrian Ministerial Council a body by now bearing scant resemblance to the cabinet under Schuschnigg unanimously accepted Stuckart's draft with one or two minor reformulations. The meeting lasted a mere five minutes and ended with the members of the Council rising to their feet to give the 'German Greeting'. The Austrian President, Wilhelm Miklas, laid down his office about the same time, refusing to sign the reunion law and handing his powers over to Sey-Inquart. That evening, Sey-Inquart and Keppler drove to Linz to confirm that the law had been accepted. Hitler signed the law before the evening was out. Austria had become a German province.

Immediately, the Austrian army was sworn in to Hitler. In a surprise move, Gauleiter Josef Burckel, a trusted 'old fighter' of the Movement but with no connections with Austria, was brought in from the Saar to reorganize the NSDAP. Hitler was well aware of the need to bring the party in Austria fully into line as quickly as possible, and not to leave it in the hands of the turbulent, ill-disciplined, and unpredictable Austrian leadership.

In mid-morning on 14 March, Hitler left Linz for Vienna. Cheering crowds greeted the cavalcade of limousines thirteen police cars accompanied Hitler's Mercedes all the way to the capital, where he arrived, again delayed, in the late afternoon. On the orders of Cardinal Innitzer, Archbishop of Vienna, all the Catholic churches in the city pealed their bells in Hitler's honour and flew swastika banners from their steeples an extraordinary gesture given the 'Church struggle' which had raged in the Reich itself over the previous years. Hitler had to appear repeatedly on the balcony of the Hotel Imperial in response to the crowd's continual shouts of 'We want to see our Fuhrer.'

The next day, 15 March, in beautiful spring weather, Hitler addressed a vast, delirious crowd, estimated at a quarter of a million people, in Vienna's Heldenplatz. The Viennese n.a.z.i Party had been impatiently expecting him to come to the capital for three days. They had had time to ensure the preparations were complete. Work-places were ordered to be closed; many factories and offices had marched their employees as a group to hear the historic speech; schools had not been open since the Sat.u.r.day; Hitler Youth and girls from the Bund Deutscher Madel were bussed in from all parts of Austria; party formations had turned out in force. But for all the organization, the wild enthusiasm of the immense crowd was undeniable and infectious. Those less enthusiastic had already been cowed into submission by the open brutality of the n.a.z.i hordes, exploiting their triumph since the weekend to inflict fearful beatings or to rob and plunder at will, and by the first waves of ma.s.s arrests (already numbering between 10,000 and 20,000 in the early days) orchestrated by Himmler and Heydrich, who had arrived in Vienna on 12 March.

Ominous in Hitler's speech was his reference to the 'new mission' of the 'Eastern Marches (Ostmark) of the German People' (as the once independent country of Austria was now to be known) as the 'bulwark' against the 'storms of the east'. He ended, to tumultuous cheering lasting for minutes, by declaring 'before history the entry of my homeland into the German Reich'.

In the early evening, Hitler left Vienna and flew to Munich, before returning next day to Berlin to another 'hero's welcome'. Two days later, on 18 March, a hastily summoned Reichstag heard his account of the events leading up to what he described as the 'fulfilment of the supreme historical commission'. He then dissolved the Reichstag and set new elections for 10 April. On 25 March, in Konigsberg, he began what was to prove his last 'election' campaign, holding six out of fourteen major speeches in the former Austria. In both parts of the extended Reich, the propaganda machine once more went into overdrive. Newspapers were prohibited from using the word 'ja' 'ja' in any context other than in connection with the plebiscite. When the results were announced on 10 April, 99.08 per cent in the 'Old Reich', and 99.75 per cent in 'Austria' voted 'yes' to the Anschlu and to the 'list of the Fuhrer'. Goebbels's Propaganda Ministry congratulated itself. 'Such an almost 100 per cent election result is at the same time a badge of honour for all election propagandists,' it concluded. in any context other than in connection with the plebiscite. When the results were announced on 10 April, 99.08 per cent in the 'Old Reich', and 99.75 per cent in 'Austria' voted 'yes' to the Anschlu and to the 'list of the Fuhrer'. Goebbels's Propaganda Ministry congratulated itself. 'Such an almost 100 per cent election result is at the same time a badge of honour for all election propagandists,' it concluded.

From Hitler's perspective, it was a near-perfect result. Whatever the undoubted manipulative methods, ballot-rigging, and pressure to conform which helped produce it, genuine support for Hitler's action had unquestionably been ma.s.sive. Once again, a foreign-policy triumph had strengthened his hand at home and abroad. For the ma.s.s of the German people, Hitler once more seemed a statesman of extraordinary virtuoso talents. For the leaders of the western democracies, anxieties about the mounting instability of central Europe were further magnified.

The Austrian adventure was over. Hitler's attentions were already moving elsewhere. Within days of returning from Vienna, he was poring over maps together with Goebbels. 'Czechia comes first now,' the Propaganda Minister recorded. '... And drastically, at the next opportunity ... The Fuhrer is wonderful ... A true genius. Now he sits for hours over the map and broods. Moving, when he says he wants to experience the great German Reich of the Teutons himself.'

The Anschlu was a watershed for Hitler, and for the Third Reich. The intoxication of the crowds made him feel like a G.o.d. The rapid improvisation of the Anschlu there and then proved once more so it seemed to him that he could do anything he wanted. His instincts were, it seemed, always right. The western 'powers' were feeble. The doubters and sceptics at home were, as always, revealed as weak and wrong. There was no one to stand in his way.

Hitler had, with the Anschlu, created 'Greater Germany', now incorporating his homeland. He was impatient for more. The Anschlu suggested to him that the Great Germanic Reich, embracing all Germans and dominating the Continent of Europe, did not have to be a long-term project, as he had once imagined. He could create it himself. But it had to be soon. The incorporation of Austria had seriously weakened the defences of Czechoslovakia the Slav state he had detested since its foundation, and one allied with the Bolshevik arch-enemy and with France. The next step to German dominance on the European continent beckoned.

The Anschlu did not just set the roller-coaster of foreign expansion moving. It gave ma.s.sive impetus to the a.s.sault on 'internal enemies'. The repression was ferocious worse even than it had been in Germany following the n.a.z.i takeover in 1933. Supporters of the fallen regime, but especially Socialists, Communists, and Jews rounded up under the aegis of the rising star in the SD's 'Jewish Department', Adolf Eichmann were taken in their thousands into 'protective custody'.

Many other Jews were manhandled, beaten, and tortured in horrific ordeals by n.a.z.i thugs, looting and rampaging. Jewish shops were plundered at will. Individual Jews were robbed on the open streets of their money, jewellery, and fur coats. Groups of Jews, men and women, young and old, were dragged from offices, shops, or homes and forced to scrub the pavements in 'cleaning squads', their tormentors standing over them and, watched by crowds of onlookers screaming, 'Work for the Jews at last,' kicking them, drenching them with cold, dirty water, and subjecting them to every conceivable form of merciless humiliation.

Thousands tried to flee. Ma.s.ses packed the railway stations, trying to get out to Prague. They had the few possessions they could carry with them ransacked by the squads of men with swastika armbands who had a.s.sembled at the stations, 'confiscating' property at will, entering compartments on the trains and dragging out arbitrarily selected victims for further mishandling and internment. Those who left on the 1 1.1 5 p.m. night express thought they had escaped. But they were turned back at the Czech border. Their ordeal was only just beginning. Others tried to flee by road. Soon, the roads to the Czech border were jammed. They became littered with abandoned cars as their occupants, realizing that the Czech authorities were turning back refugees at the borders, headed into the woods to try to cross the frontier illegally on foot.

For many, there was only one way out. Suicide among the Viennese Jewish community became commonplace in these terrible days.

The quest to root out 'enemies of the people', which in Germany had subsided in the mid-1930s and had begun to gather new pace in 1937, was revitalized through the new 'opportunities' that had opened up in Austria. The radicalized campaign would very quickly be reimported to the 'Old Reich', both in the new and horrifying wave of antisemitism in the summer of 1938, and behind the scenes but ultimately even more sinister in the rapid expansion of the SS's involvement in looking for solutions to the 'Jewish Question'.

After the tremors of the Blomberg Fritsch affair, Hitler's internal position was now stronger than ever. The vast majority of officers were, as regards the Anschlu, of one mind with the people: they could only approve and if sometimes begrudgingly admire Hitler's latest triumph. Among the ma.s.s of the population, 'the German miracle' brought about by Hitler released what was described as 'an elemental frenzy of enthusiasm' once it was clear that the western powers would again stand by and do nothing, and that 'our Fuhrer has pulled it off without bloodshed'. It would be the last time that the German people now with the addition of their cousins to the east whose rapid disillusionment soon dissipated the wild euphoria with which many of them had greeted Hitler would feel the threat of war lifted so rapidly from them through a foreign-policy coup completed within days and presented as a fait accompli. The next crisis, over the Sudetenland, would drag over months and have them in near-panic over the likelihood of war. And if Hitler had had his way, there would have been war.

II.

Down to the Anschlu, the major triumphs in foreign policy had been in line with the revisionist and nationalist expectations of all powerful interests in the Reich, and quite especially those of the army. The methods on which the army, the Foreign Office, and others often looked askance were Hitlerian. The timing had been determined by Hitler. The decisions to act were his alone. But in each case there had been powerful backing, as well as some hesitancy, among his advisers. And in each case, he was reflecting diverse currents of revisionist expression. The immense popularity of his triumphs in all sections of the political elite and among the ma.s.ses of the population testified to the underlying consensus behind the revisionism. The earlier crises had also all been of brief duration. The tension had in each case been short-lived, the success rapidly attained. And in each case, the popular jubilation was in part an expression of relief that the western powers had not intervened, that the threat of another war something which sent shivers of horror down the spines of most ordinary people had been averted. The resulting popularity and prestige that accrued to Hitler drew heavily upon his 'triumphs without bloodshed'. The weakness and divisions of the western powers had in each case been the platform for Hitler's bloodless coups.

For the first time, in the summer of 1938, Hitler's foreign policy went beyond revisionism and national integration, even if the western powers did not grasp this. Whatever his public veneer of concern about the treatment of the Sudeten Germans, there was no doubt at all to the ruling groups in Germany aware of Hitler's thinking that he was aiming not just at the incorporation of the Sudetenland in the German Reich, but at destroying the state of Czechoslovakia itself. By the end of May this aim, and the timing envisaged to accomplish it, had been outlined to the army leadership. It meant war certainly against Czechoslovakia, and probably (so it seemed to others), despite Hitler's presumption of the contrary, against the western powers. Hitler, it became unmistakably plain, actually wanted war.

The sheer recklessness of courting disaster by the wholly unnecessary (in their view) risk of war at this time against the western powers which they thought Germany in its current state of preparation could not win appalled and horrified a number of those who knew what Hitler had in mind.

It was not the prospect of destroying Czechoslovakia that alienated them. To German nationalist eyes, Czechoslovakia could only be seen as a major irritant occupying a strategically crucial area. Coloured in addition by anti-Slav prejudice, there was little love lost for a democracy, hostile to the Reich, whose destruction would bring major advantages for Germany's military and economic dominance of central Europe. The army had already planned in 1937 for the possibility of a pre-emptive strike against Czechoslovakia 'Case Green' to counter the possibility of the Czechs joining in from the east if their allies, the French, attacked the Reich from the west. As the prospect of a war with the French, something taken extremely seriously in the mid-1930s, had receded, 'Case Green' had been amended a month after the 'Hobach meeting' of 5 November 1937 to take account of likely circ.u.mstances in which the Wehrmacht could invade Czechoslovakia to solve the problem of 'living s.p.a.ce'.

In economic terms, too, the fall of Czechoslovakia offered an enticing prospect. Goring, his staff directing the Four-Year Plan, and the leaders of the arms industry, were for their part casting greedy eyes on the raw materials and armaments plants of Czechoslovakia. The economic pressures for expansion accorded fully with the power-political aims of the regime's leadership. Those who had argued for an alternative economic strategy, most of all of course Schacht, had by now lost their influence. Goring was the dominant figure. And in Goring's dreams of German dominion in south-eastern Europe, the acquisition of Czechoslovakia was plainly pivotal.

But neither military strategy nor economic necessity compelled a Czech crisis in 1938. And even Goring, keen as he was to see the end of the Czech state, was anxious, as were others in the upper echelons of the regime, to avoid what seemed that almost certain consequence of any move against Czechoslovakia: war against the western powers.

It was the vision of national disaster that led for the first time to the tentative emergence of significant strands of opposition to what was regarded as. .h.i.tler's madness. In the army leadership (still smarting from the Fritsch scandal), in the Foreign Office, and in other high places, the germs of resistance were planted among those certain that Germany was being driven headlong into catastrophe. In the military, the leading opponents of Hitler's high-risk policy emerged as General Beck, who resigned as Chief of Staff in the summer, and Admiral Wilhelm Canaris, head of the Abwehr (military intelligence). In the Foreign Office, the State Secretary Ernst von Weizsacker was at the forefront of those in opposition to the policy supported avidly by his immediate superior, Foreign Minister von Ribbentrop. Among civilians with inside knowledge of what was going on, Carl Goerdeler, the former Reich Price Commissar, used his extensive foreign contacts to warn about Hitler's aims.

Nor was there any popular pressure for a foreign adventure, let alone one which was thought likely to bring war with the western powers. Among ordinary people, excluded from the deliberations in high places which kept Europe on the thinnest of tightropes between war and peace in September, the long-drawn-out crisis over Czechoslovakia, lasting throughout the late spring and summer, unlike earlier crises allowed time for the anxieties about war to gather momentum. The acute tension produced what was described as a 'real war psychosis'. No love was lost on the Czechs. And the relentless propaganda about their alleged persecution of the German minority was not without impact. There were indeed some feelings of real gung-ho aggression, though these were largely confined to gullible younger Germans, who had not lived through the World War. The overwhelming sentiment was a fervent desire that war should be avoided and peace preserved. For the first time there was a hint of lack of confidence in Hitler's policy. Most looked to him to preserve peace, not take Germany into a new war. But this time, both to the leading actors in the drama and to the millions looking on anxiously, war looked a more likely outcome than peace.

Among those with power and influence, the most forthright supporter of war to destroy Czechoslovakia was the new Foreign Minister, Joachim von Ribbentrop, an entirely different ent.i.ty from the displaced conservative, von Neurath. Ribbentrop was more than keen to stamp his imprint on the Foreign Office and to make up for the embarra.s.sment he had sustained when, largely at Goring's doing, he had been sidelined in London and allowed to play no part in the Austrian triumph that his arch-rival in foreign policy had been instrumental in orchestrating. He provided Hitler with his main backing in these months. His hatred of Britain the country which had spurned and ridiculed him as well as his fawning devotion to the Fuhrer made him the most hawkish of the hawks, a warmonger second only to Hitler himself. When he was not directly spurring on Hitler, he was doing his utmost to sh.o.r.e up the conviction that, when it came to it, Britain would not fight, that any war would be a localized one.

For all Ribbentrop's influence, however, there could be no doubt that the crisis that brought Europe to the very brink of war in the summer of 1938 was instigated and directed by Hitler himself. And unlike the rapid improvisation and breakneck speed which had characterized previous crises, this one was consciously devised to escalate over a period of months.

Until 1938, Hitler's moves in foreign policy had been bold, but not reckless. He had shown shrewd awareness of the weakness of his opponents, a sure instinct for exploiting divisions and uncertainty. His sense of timing had been excellent, his combination of bluff and blackmail effective, his manipulation of propaganda to back his coups masterly. He had gone further and faster than anyone could have expected in revising the terms of Versailles and upturning the post-war diplomatic settlement. From the point of view of the western powers, his methods were, to say the least, unconventional diplomacy raw, brutal, unpalatable; but his aims were recognizably in accord with traditional German nationalist clamour. Down to and including the Anschlu, Hitler had proved a consummate nationalist politician. During the Sudeten crisis, some sympathy for demands to incorporate the German-speaking areas in the Reich for another Anschlu of sorts still existed among those ready to swallow Goebbels's propaganda about the maltreatment of the Sudeten Germans by the Czechs, or at any rate prepared to accept that a further nationality problem was in need of resolution. It took the crisis and its outcome to expose the realization that Hitler would stop at nothing.

The spring of 1938 marked the phase in which Hitler's obsession with accomplishing his 'mission' in his own lifetime started to overtake cold political calculation. The sense of his own infallibility, ma.s.sively boosted by the triumph of the Anschlu, underscored his increased reliance on his own will, matched by his diminished readiness to listen to countervailing counsel. That he had invariably been proved right in his a.s.sessment of the weakness of the western powers in the past, usually in the teeth of the caution of his advisers in the army and Foreign Office, convinced him that his current evaluation was unerringly correct. He felt the western powers would do nothing to defend Czechoslovakia. At the same time, this strengthened his conviction that the Reich's position relative to the western powers could only worsen as their inevitable build-up of arms began to catch up with that of Germany. To remain inactive a recurring element in the way he thought was, he a.s.serted, not an option: it would merely play into the hands of his enemies. Therefore, he characteristically reasoned: act without delay to retain the initiative.

The time was ripe in his view to strike against Czechoslovakia. Until Czechoslovakia was eliminated this was the key strategic element in Hitler's idea Germany would be incapable of taking action either in the east or in the west. He had moved from a position of a foreign policy supported by Great Britain to one where he was prepared to act without Britain, and, if need be, against Britain. Despite the forebodings of others, war against Czechoslovakia in his view carried few risks. And if the western powers, contrary to expectation, were foolish enough to become involved, Germany would defeat them.

More important even than why Hitler was in such a hurry to destroy Czechoslovakia is why he was by this time in a position to override or ignore weighty objections and to determine that Germany should be taken to the very brink of general European war. Decisive in this was the process, which we have followed, of the expansion of his power, relative to other agencies of power in the regime, to the point where, by spring 1938, it had freed itself from all inst.i.tutional constraints and had established unchallenged supremacy over all sections of the 'power cartel'. The five years of Hitler's highly personalized form of rule had eroded all semblance of collective involvement in policy-making. This fragmentation at one and the same time rendered the organization of any opposition within the power-elite almost impossible not to speak of any attached dangers to life and liberty and inordinately strengthened Hitler's own power. The scope for more cautious counsel to apply the brakes had sharply diminished. The constant Hobbesian 'war of all against all', the competing power fiefdoms that characterized the National Socialist regime, took place at the level below Hitler, enhancing his extraordinary position as the fount of all authority and dividing both individual and sectional interests of the different power ent.i.ties (the Movement, the state bureaucracy, the army, big business, the police, and the sub-branches of each). Hitler was, therefore, as the sole linchpin, able internally to deal, as in foreign policy, through bilateral relations offering his support here, denying it there, remaining the sole arbiter, even when he preferred (or felt compelled) to let matters ride and let his subordinates battle it out among themselves. It was less a planned strategy of 'divide and rule' than an inevitable consequence of Fuhrer authority. Without any coordinating bodies to unify policy, each sectional interest in the Third Reich could thrive only with the legitimacy of the Fuhrer's backing. Each one inevitably, therefore, 'worked towards the Fuhrer' in order to gain or sustain that backing, ensuring thereby that his power grew still further and that his own ideological obsessions were promoted.

The inexorable disintegration of coherent structures of rule was therefore not only a product of the all-pervasive Fuhrer cult reflecting and embellishing Hitler's absolute supremacy, but at the same time underpinned the myth of the all-seeing, all-knowing infallible Leader, elevating it to the very principle of government itself. Moreover, as we have witnessed throughout, Hitler had in the process swallowed the Fuhrer cult himself, hook, line, and sinker. He was the most ardent believer in his own infallibility and destiny. It was not a good premiss for rational decision-making.

The compliance of all sections of the regime in the growth of the Fuhrer cult, the exemption made for Hitler himself even by vehement internal critics of the party or Gestapo, and the full awareness of the immense popularity of the 'great Leader', all contributed to making it extraordinarily difficult by summer 1938 the first time that deep anxieties about the course of his leadership surfaced now to contemplate withdrawing support, let alone take oppositional action of any kind.

In any case, the extent of opposition to plans for an a.s.sault on Czechoslovakia should not be exaggerated. From within the regime, only the army had the potential to block Hitler. The BlombergFritsch affair had certainly left a legacy of anger, distaste, and distrust among the army leadership. But this was directed less at Hitler personally, than at the leadership of the SS and police.

Following the changes of February 1938, the army's own position, in relation to Hitler, had weakened. In the process, the army leadership had been transformed into an adjunct of Hitler's power rather than the 'state within the state' which it had effectively been since Bismarck's era. By the summer of 1938, whatever the anxieties about the risk of war with the western powers, the leadership of the armed forces was divided within itself. Hitler could depend upon unquestioning support from Keitel and Jodl in the High Command of the Wehrmacht. Brauchitsch could be relied upon to keep the army in line, whatever the reservations of some of the generals. Raeder was, as always, fully behind Hitler and already preparing the navy for eventual war with Britain. The head of the Luftwaffe, Goring, fearful of such a war and seeing it as the negation of his own conception of German expansionist policy, nevertheless bowed axiomatically to the Fuhrer's superior authority at all points where his approach started to diverge from Hitler's own. When Beck felt compelled to resign as Chief of Staff, therefore, he stirred no broad protest within the army, let alone in the other branches of the Wehrmacht. Instead, he isolated himself and henceforth formed his links with equally isolated and disaffected individuals within the armed forces, the Foreign Office, and other state ministries who began to contemplate ways of removing Hitler. They were well aware that they were swimming against a strong tide. Whatever doubts and worries there might be, they knew that the consensus behind Hitler within the power-elites was unbroken. They were conscious, too, that from the ma.s.ses, despite mounting anxieties about war, Hitler could still summon immense reserves of fanatical support. The prospects of successful resistance were, therefore, not good.

It was scarcely surprising, then, that there would be overwhelming compliance and no challenge to Hitler's leadership, or to his dangerous policy, as the crisis unfolded throughout the summer. Despite reservations, all sections of the regime's power-elite had by this point come to bind themselves to Hitler whether to flourish or perish.

III.

The international constellation also played completely into Hitler's hands. Czechoslovakia, despite its formal treaties with France and the Soviet Union, was exposed and friendless. France's vacillation during the summer reflected a desperation to avoid having to fulfil its treaty obligations to Czechoslovakia through military involvement for which there was neither the will nor the preparation. The French were fearful of Czechoslovakia coming under German control. But they were even more fearful of becoming embroiled in a war to defend the Czechs. The Soviet Union, in any case preoccupied with its internal upheavals, could only help the defence of Czechoslovakia if its troops were permitted to cross Polish or Romanian soil a prospect which could be ruled out. Poland and Hungary both looked greedily to the possibility of their own revisionist gains at the expense of a dismembered Czechoslovakia. Italy, having conceded to the rapidly emerging senior partner in the Axis over the key issue of Austria, had no obvious interest in propping up Czechoslovakia. Great Britain, preoccupied with global commitments and problems in different parts of its Empire, and aware of its military unreadiness for an increasingly likely conflict with Germany, was anxious at all costs to avoid prematurely being drawn into a war over a nationality problem in a central European country to which it was bound by no treaty obligations. The British knew the French were not prepared to help the Czechs. The government were still giving Hitler the benefit of the doubt, ready to believe that designs on Sudeten territory did not amount to 'international power l.u.s.t' or mean that he was envisaging a future attack on France and Britain. Beyond this, it was accepted in London that the Czechs were indeed oppressing the Sudeten German minority. Pressure on the Czechs to comply with Hitler's demands was an inevitable response and one backed by the French.

On top of its increasingly hopeless international position, Czechoslovakia's internal fragility also greatly a.s.sisted Hitler. Not just the clamour of the Sudeten Germans, but the designs of the Slovaks for their own autonomy placed the Czech government in an impossible situation. Undermined from without and within, the only new democracy surviving from the post-war settlement was about to be deserted by its 'friends' and devoured by its enemies.

Within two weeks of the Anschlu, in discussions in Berlin with the Sudeten German leader Konrad Henlein, Hitler was indicating that the Czech question would be solved 'before long'. He also prescribed the general strategy of stipulating demands which the Prague government could not meet vital to prevent the Czechoslovakian government at any stage falling in line with British pressure to accommodate the Sudeten Germans. Henlein wasted no time in putting forward his demands, amounting to autonomy for Sudeten Germans, on 24 April at the Congress of the Sudeten German Party at Karlsbad (Karlovy Vary). One demand to be kept up Henlein's sleeve, which Hitler was certain from his knowledge of the Austria-Hungarian multinational state could never be accepted, was for German regiments within the Czechoslovakian army. In Germany itself, the strategy was to turn up the volume of propaganda at the alleged oppression of the Sudeten Germans by the Czechs. If necessary, incidents to fuel the agitation could be manufactured. Militarily, Hitler was hoping to prevent British intervention, and was certain the French would not act alone. A key deterrent, in his view, was the building of a 400-mile concrete fortification (planned to include 'dragon's teeth' anti-tank devices and gun emplacements, with over 11,000 bunkers and reinforced dug-outs) along Germany's western border the 'Westwall' to provide a significant obstruction to any French invasion. The direct interest which Hitler took in the Westwall and the urgency in completing the fortifications were directly related to the question of timing in any blow aimed at the Czechs. At this stage, in late March and April 1938, Hitler evidently had no precise time-scale in mind for the destruction of Czechoslovakia.

This was still the case when Hitler instructed Keitel, on 21 April, to draw up plans for military action against Czechoslovakia. Hitler indicated that he did not intend to attack Czechoslovakia in the near future unless circ.u.mstances within the country or fortuitous international developments offered an opportunity. This would then have to be seized so rapidly military action would have to prove decisive within four days that the western powers would realize the pointlessness of intervention. Keitel and Jodl were in no hurry to work out the operational plan which, when eventually presented to Hitler in draft on 20 May, still represented what Keitel had taken to be Hitler's intentions a month earlier. 'It is not my intention to smash Czechoslovakia by military action within the immediate future,' the draft began.

In the interim, Hitler had reacted angrily to a memorandum composed on 5 May by army Chief of Staff General Beck, emphasizing Germany's military incapacity to win a long war, and warning of the dangers of British intervention in the event of military action against Czechoslovakia that year. Hitler was even more scathing when Goring reported to him how little progress had been made on the Westwall (where construction work had been under the direction of Army Group Command 2, headed by General Wilhelm Adam). He accused the General Staff of sabotaging his plans, removed the army's construction chiefs, and put Fritz Todt his civil engineering expert who, since 1933, had masterminded the building of the motorways in charge. It was an example of Hitler's increasingly high-handed way of dealing with the army leadership. Hitler still recalled what he saw as the army's obstructionism as late as 1942.

The question of Mussolini's att.i.tude towards German action over Czechoslovakia had been high on Hitler's agenda during his state visit to Italy at the beginning of May. Hitler had done much to dispel any initial coolness towards the visit with his speech in Rome on the evening of 7 May in which he enthused over the natural 'alpine border' providing a 'clear separation of the living s.p.a.ces of the two nations'. This public renunciation of any claim on the South Tyrol was no more than Hitler had been stating since the mid-1920s. But, coming so soon after the Anschlu, it was important in a.s.suaging the Italians, not least since Hitler was anxious to sound them out over Czechoslovakia. The soundings were, from Hitler's point of view, the most successful part of the visit. He took Mussolini's remarks as encouragement to proceed against the Czechs. State Secretary von Weizsacker noted that Italy intended to stay neutral in any war between Germany and Czechoslovakia. Diplomatically, Hitler had achieved what he wanted from the visit. At this point the 'Weekend Crisis' intervened.

Reports reaching the French and British emba.s.sies and the Prague government on 1920 May of German troop movements near the Czech border were treated seriously, given the shrill German anti-Czech propaganda and the tension in the Sudetenland on account of the imminent local elections there. The Czechoslovakian government responded to what they took to be a threat of imminent invasion by partially mobilizing their military reserves close on 180,000 men. Tension rose still further when two Sudeten Germans were killed in an incident involving the Czech police. Meanwhile, Keitel's explicit rea.s.surance to the British Amba.s.sador Henderson that the movements were no more than routine spring manoeuvres, which had been given to the press, had led to a furious tirade by Ribbentrop, incensed that Henderson had not gone through proper diplomatic channels in publishing the information, and threatening that Germany would fight as it had done in 1914 should war break out.

This had the effect of stirring genuine alarm in the British Amba.s.sador, worried that he had been misled by Keitel, and that a German invasion of Czechoslovakia was imminent. On the afternoon of Sat.u.r.day, 21 May, Henderson was instructed by the British Foreign Secretary Lord Halifax to inform Ribbentrop that the French were bound to intervene in the event of an attack on Czechoslovakia, and that the Germans should not depend upon the British standing by. Ribbentrop's hysterical reply was scarcely rea.s.suring: 'If France were really so crazy as to attack us, it would lead to perhaps the greatest defeat in French history, and if Britain were to join her, then once again we should have to fight to the death.' By the Sunday, 22 May, however, British reconnaissance on the borders had revealed nothing untoward. It had been a false alarm.

The crisis blew over as quickly as it had started. But Hitler was affronted by the loss of German prestige. Keitel later recalled Hitler stating that he was not prepared to tolerate 'such a provocation' by the Czechs, and demanding the fastest possible preparations for a strike. It was not as a result of the crisis that Hitler resolved to crush Czechoslovakia before the year was out. But the crisis accelerated matters. The blow to pride reinforced his determination to act as soon as possible. Delay was ruled out.

After days of brooding over the issue at the Berghof, pondering the advice of his military leaders that Germany was ill-equipped for an early strike against the Czechs, Hitler returned to Berlin and summoned a meeting of his top generals, together with leading figures from the Foreign Ministry, for 28 May. He told his generals bluntly: 'I am utterly determined that Czechoslovakia should disappear from the map.' He claimed Germany was stronger than in 1914. He pointed to the train of successes since 1933. But there was no such thing as a lasting state of contentment. Life was a constant struggle. And Germany needed living s.p.a.ce in Europe, and in colonial possessions. The current generation had to solve the problem. France and Britain would remain hostile to an expansion of German power. Czechoslovakia was Germany's most dangerous enemy in the event of conflict with the West. Therefore it was necessary to eliminate Czechoslovakia. He gave the incomplete state of Czech fortifications, the underdeveloped British and French armaments programmes, and the advantageous international situation as reasons for early action. The western fortifications were to be drastically speeded up. These would provide the framework for a 'lightning march into Czechoslovakia'.

Two days later, the revised 'Case Green' was ready. Its basic lines were unchanged from those drawn up earlier in the month by Keitel and Jodl. But the preamble now ran: 'It is my unalterable decision to smash Czechoslovakia by military action in the foreseeable future.' Keitel's covering note laid down that preparations must be complete by 1 October at the latest. From that date on, Hitler was determined to 'exploit every favourable political opportunity' to accomplish his aim. It was a decision for war if need be, even against the western powers.

Chief of Staff Beck responded with two memoranda of 29 May and 3 June, highly critical both of Hitler's political a.s.sumptions with regard to Britain and France, and of the operational directives for 'Case Green'. The 'cardinal point' (as he put it) of disagreement was about the prospect of a war against France and Britain which, Beck was certain, Germany would lose. What only gradually became clear to Beck was how far he had isolated himself even in the army's own high command. In particular, the head of the army, Brauchitsch, though sharing some of Beck's reservations, would undertake nothing which might appear to challenge or criticize Hitler's plans. The distance between Brauchitsch and Beck became more marked. Increasingly, the head of the army looked to Beck's deputy, General Franz Halder.

Beck's own position, and the force of his operational arguments, weakened notably in mid-June when the results of war games demonstrated, in contrast to his grim prognostications, that Czechoslovakia would in all probability be overrun within eleven days, with the consequence that troops could rapidly be sent to fight on the western front. Increasingly despairing and isolated, Beck went so far in summer as to advocate collective resignation of the military leadership to force Hitler to give way, to be followed by a purge of the 'radicals' responsible for the high-risk international adventurism. 'The soldierly duty [of the highest leaders of the Wehrmacht],' he wrote on 16 July 1938, 'has a limit at the point where their knowledge, conscience, and responsibility prohibits the execution of an order. If their advice and warnings in such a situation are not listened to, they have the right and duty to the people and to history to resign from their posts. If they all act with a united will, the deployment of military action is impossible. They will thereby have saved their Fatherland from the worst, from destruction ... Extraordinary times demand extraordinary actions.'

It proved impossible to win over Brauchitsch to the idea of any generals' ultimatum to Hitler, even though the army Commander-in-Chief accepted much of Beck's military a.n.a.lysis and shared his fears of western intervention. At a meeting of top generals summoned for 4 August, Brauchitsch did not deliver the speech which Beck had prepared for him. Instead, distancing himself from the Chief of the General Staff, he had Beck read out his own memorandum of 16 July, with its highly pessimistic a.s.sessment of eventualities following an invasion of Czechoslovakia. Most of those present agreed that Germany could not win a war against the western powers. But Reichenau, speaking 'from his personal knowledge of the Fuhrer', warned against individual generals approaching Hitler with such an argument; it would have the reverse effect to that which they wanted. And General Ernst Busch questioned whether it was the business of soldiers to intervene in political matters. As Brauchitsch recognized, those present opposed the risk of a war over Czechoslovakia. He himself commented that a new world war would bring the end of German culture. But there was no agreement on what practical consequences should follow. Colonel-General Gerd von Rundstedt, one of the most senior and respected officers, was unwilling to provoke a new crisis between Hitler and the army through challenging him on his war-risk policy. Lieutenant-General Erich von Manstein, Commander of the 18th Infantry Division, who would later distinguish himself as a military tactician of unusual calibre, advised Beck to rid himself of the burden of responsibility a matter for the political leadership and play a full part in securing success against Czechoslovakia.

Brauchitsch, spineless though he was, was plainly not alone in his unwillingness to face Hitler with an ultimatum. The reality was that there was no collective support for a frontal challenge. Brauchitsch contented himself with pa.s.sing on Beck's memorandum to Hitler via one of his adjutants. When Hitler heard what had taken place at the meeting, he was incandescent. Brauchitsch was summoned to the Berghof and subjected to such a ferocious high-decibel verbal a.s.sault that those sitting on the terrace below the open windows of Hitler's room felt embarra.s.sed enough to move inside.

Hitler responded by summoning an unorthodox step not the top military leadership, but a selective group of the second tier of senior officers, those who might be expecting rapid promotion in the event of a military conflict, to the Berghof for a meeting on 10 August. He was evidently hoping to gain influence over his staff chiefs through their subordinates. But he was disappointed. His harangue, lasting several hours, left his audience which was fully acquainted with the content of Beck's July memorandum still unconvinced. The crisis of confidence between Hitler and the army general staff had reached serious levels. At the same time, the a.s.sembled officers were divided among themselves, with some of them increasingly critical of Beck.

The Chief of the General Staff made a last attempt to persuade Brauchitsch to take a firm stance against Hitler. It was whistling in the wind. On 18 August, Beck finally tendered the resignation he had already prepared a month earlier. Even then, he missed a last trick. He accepted Hitler's request 'for foreign-policy reasons' not to publicize his resignation. A final opportunity to turn the unease running through the army, and through the German people, into an open challenge to the political leadership of the Reich and when Beck knew that only Ribbentrop, and perhaps Himmler, fully backed Hitler was lost. Beck's path into fundamental resistance was a courageous one. But in summer 1938 he gradually became, at least as regards political strategy, an isolated figure in the military leadership. As he himself saw it several months later: 'I warned and in the end I was alone.' Ironically, he had been more responsible than any other individual for supplying Hitler with the military might which the Dictator could not wait to use.

Hitler was by this time, therefore, a.s.sured of the compliance of the military, even if they were reluctant rather than enthusiastic in their backing for war against the Czechs, and even if relations were tense and distrustful. And as long as the generals fell into line, his own position was secure, his policy unchallengeable.

As it transpired, his reading of international politics turned out to be closer to the mark than that of Beck and the generals. In the guessing-and second-guessing political poker-game that ran through the summer, the western powers were anxious to avoid war at all costs, while the east European neighbours of Czechoslovakia were keen to profit from any war but unwilling to take risks. By midsummer, Ribbentrop regarded the die as cast. He told Weizsacker 'that the Fuhrer was firmly resolved to settle the Czech affair by force of arms'. Mid-October was the latest possible date because of flying conditions. 'The other powers would definitely not do anything about it and if they did we would take them on as well and win.'

Hitler himself spent much of the summer at the Berghof. Despite the Sudeten crisis, his daily routine differed little from previous years: he got up late, went for walks, watched films, and relaxed in the company of his regular entourage and favoured visitors like Albert Speer. Whether on the basis of newspaper reports, or through information fed to him by those able to gain access, he intervened sometimes quirkily in an array of minutiae: punishment for traffic offences, altering the base of a statue, considerations of whether all cigarettes should be made nicotine-free, or the type of holes to be put into flagpoles. He also interfered directly in the course of justice, ordering the death penalty for the perpetrator of a series of highway robberies, and the speediest possible conviction for th