Short History of World War II - James L. Stokesbury [191]
For the Germans the situation looked unrelievedly grim. The satellites were gone, the Reich itself was being systematically bombarded from the air, the manpower pool was failing; boys of fourteen and men of sixty were appearing in the ranks of the Volks-sturm, the so-called People’s Army that was supposed to defend the homeland in its extremity. Hitler put his hope in new weapons, and such was the magic of his repetitive oratory that some Germans still believed him. Yet the V-l flying bomb, and even the V-2, first of the true missiles, did not deter the Allies from their course. Other magic answers failed to materialize, or fell short of their promises when they did. The new jet fighters were sidetracked into useless bombing roles; newer rocket fighters proved as dangerous to their pilots as to the enemy. The race to complete an atomic bomb was long lost in shortsightedness and internecine rivalries and bickerings.
With the failure of the miracle weapons to achieve miracles Hitler fell increasingly back on illusion. He was sure the Allies would fall out. As the war progressed downhill for Germany, he put more and more emphasis on the anti-Bolshevik nature of his Russian war. The Germans had not invaded Russia because they wanted to wipe out the Slavs and take their territory for the Germans, but because Germany had recognized her duty to save western civilization from the Red menace. Surely the Western Powers would wake up to their danger, would realize the true nature of their ally, and would change sides. Ideologically, Hitler was probably right; though they were all basically antithetical, fascism and capitalism perhaps had more points of contact than capitalism and communism. Emotionally, he could not have been more completely wrong. To assume that the Allies would fall out and that the West would side with Germany against the East was to ignore the mountain of hatred the Germans had created for themselves. In the context of 1944-45, it was utterly inconceivable to anyone outside Germany that the Germans were preferable to the Russians. Hitler, however, clung to that fiction, and more and more his thoughts turned to the closing days of the Seven Years’ War, when Frederick the Great had managed to stave off disaster and survive because his enemies fell to quarreling with each other.
Meanwhile, there was work to be done. Already some of his generals were hinting that the Western Front should be allowed to collapse, and that all of Germany’s efforts should be bent to holding back the Russians. Better that Germany be overrun by the Western Allies than the Reds, and the farther east the British and Americans got, the more desirable at the ultimate end of the war. This was anathema to Hitler; if he were to be defeated, it would be because the Germans were unworthy of his genius. That being the case, there was no reason why Germany and Germans should survive him. He was not concerned with easing the postwar situation for the cowardly remnant who lacked his courage or his convictions. He insisted that all was not lost anyway. If Germany could gain time, much might happen: the Allies might break up, the new weapons might become available, miracles might still happen. Deep in his lair he looked at his maps, he mused, he plotted, he raved, he saw an opportunity.
That weak Allied sector in Luxembourg; the Ardennes again. Suppose the Germans were to fight—and win—the campaign of 1940 all over again! Using its incredible improvisatory and organizational skills, the high command scraped up a strategic reserve of twenty-five divisions and two Panzer armies. Hitler planned to break the Allied line in the Ardennes, race through and wheel northwest to Antwerp; all the northern Allied armies would be cut off and destroyed. They were too strong to be driven out of France, but they