Short History of World War II - James L. Stokesbury [172]
Nonetheless, things were not going too badly. In terms of territory occupied, the Allies were nearly a month and a half behind schedule, but in terms of troops and supplies ashore, they were doing about as planned. So far they had thirty-four divisions ashore, and they and the Germans had both suffered about the same number of casualties, around 120,000. That in itself was a tribute to the Allies’ matériel superiority and their ability to wage mechanized warfare, as the attackers normally expect to suffer significantly heavier casualties than the defenders, until some major break is achieved, at which point the defenders’ casualties then mount disproportionately. In spite of the disappointing advances, all was going well.
On July 20, Colonel Count Claus von Stauffenberg attended a briefing in the war room of the Fuehrer’s headquarters in East Prussia. Excusing himself for a phone call during the briefing, he left his briefcase behind him under the table, right next to Hitler. One of the German officers, leaning over to look at a map, found the briefcase in the way of his foot and idly leaned down and moved it inside the solid piece of wood that formed the end legs of the table. Shortly thereafter, as von Stauffenberg was on his hurried way back to Berlin, the briefcase exploded. Several people were killed, but Hitler, protected by the solid table, escaped with minor cuts, bruises, and shock.
In Berlin, von Stauffenberg and his fellow plotters, mostly army officers with a sprinkling of distinguished civilians, made a half-hearted and hesitant attempt to seize the reins of power. As good gentlemen they made poor plotters, and the news that Hitler had survived the bomb plot quickly swept the rug out from under them. There was a welter of sudden shootings as the rebels tried to eliminate the officials still loyal to Hitler, and then more shootings as those loyal—or who had not yet tipped their hand—tried as rapidly as possible both to demonstrate their loyalty to their master, and to get rid of any surviving plotters who might implicate them in the affair. Hitler immediately ordered the unexecuted plotters saved so they could be tortured for information. All sorts of high-ranking Germans were caught up in the subsequent roundup, some who were genuinely anti-Nazi, some who just had the misfortune to have their names on lists as possible supporters of a coup d’état. Rommel’s name was on one list; he was at home recuperating from a wound inflicted by a strafing Allied plane. As Germany’s greatest war hero he could not be admitted a traitor, and he was allowed to commit suicide to save his family. Rommel was relatively lucky. Many of the plotters ended up hanging from meathooks by wire nooses, strangling while movie cameras recorded their death agonies for the delectation of Hitler and his chosen circle.
So ended the only real attempt ever to overthrow the Nazi regime from within Germany. After that there was nothing left but to go down with the ship.
The July Plot may have brought comfort to the Allied troops in their battles against the Wehrmacht, but it brought little tangible profit. Suspected dissidents were ruthlessly pruned and quickly replaced, and there was no break in the tempo of the war. In Normandy, General Bradley was planning an operation named “Cobra” designed finally to carry the Americans clear of the hedgerows, and to set them up for the long-awaited wheel to the eastward. The Americans heavily outnumbered the Germans in front of them, for Kluge like his predecessors was still preoccupied with the Caen area. On the