The Steel Wave - Jeff Shaara [50]
“It is not for me to say, sir.”
“Because he did not win in Russia. He suffered defeat and disappointed the Führer. And so his career stagnates. I outrank him, you outrank him, half the generals in this army outrank him. Instead of leading his panzers on the battlefield, one of our finest generals has become an errand boy, a minion of the High Command.”
“He is still influential, sir. That’s why they are sending him here. The High Command knows there are conflicts of opinion among Field Marshal von Rundstedt’s generals. He is a good man to sort through all that, make the best decisions. You should trust General Guderian, sir.”
He studied Speidel again and stifled a small laugh. The only man I trust around here might be you.
General Baron Leo Geyr von Schweppenburg seemed to Rommel to personify the annoying Prussian aristocrat. Geyr was five years Rommel’s senior, ruggedly handsome, wore the self-satisfied expression of a man utterly sure of himself. Like so many of the Prussians, he had come up first through the cavalry, the expected posting for Germany’s most elite young officers. Geyr had served as a subordinate to Heinz Guderian during the blitzkrieg that crushed Poland and shared in the accolades that Guderian earned. Eventually, Geyr followed Guderian to Russia, performing as well as any panzer commander could be expected to. Yet, despite his many accomplishments, Geyr, like Guderian, was mildly distrusted by Hitler. It was something Rommel shared with the Führer. Neither man liked Prussians. Like Rommel, Geyr answered to von Rundstedt, but Geyr paid very little attention to anything von Rundstedt had to say. And he cared even less for Rommel.
Geyr held up a rolled map. “I will not compromise the fate of my panzers. We must maintain a strong mobile reserve far back of the coastline. Mobile reserve! No matter where or when the attack comes, from the sea or from the skies, we can move our strongest forces into line quickly and surround the problem. I cannot put all my concerns on the coastline. What of the enemy’s paratroopers? Surely, Herr Rommel, that was a lesson we all learned from the disaster in Sicily. My armor must be prepared to confront a sizable force of paratroopers, and if they come it will be inland, away from the beaches. How many times must I paint this portrait?” He turned to Guderian. “What must I do? The proper strategy is brutally simple! Herr Rommel has a basic lack of understanding of the principles of armored tactics!”
Rommel raised his eyes, met Geyr’s, stared hard, Rommel speaking to Geyr in his head: You, sir, are an idiot. He fought the urge to stand and spoke slowly and precisely.
“Do not dare to insult me, General Geyr. All you know of armor is what you learned in Russia, fighting a brutally stupid enemy who threw himself against your guns with blind charges. Even with tanks, you could not kill enough of them to prevent their victories. But to believe that the British and the Americans will fight the same way is a display of shameful ignorance. I am very much aware of the need for mobility, General Geyr. But what of the enemy’s air power?”
Geyr sniffed. “The Luftwaffe has shown they are the equal of any air force they meet in the skies.”
“What Luftwaffe?” Rommel glanced at Guderian and saw a hard frown. He flexed his fingers, trying to calm himself. “I learned in North Africa that when the enemy has dominance over the skies, mobility must be confined to the darkness. If you fail to heed that warning, the enemy’s air power will destroy you. The enemy we will face in France is already superior to us because they dominate the air. I do not care what Reichsmarschall Göring tells you! These are the facts. The enemy’s dominance of the skies will prevent us from being as mobile as we would like to be. We must not put the armor so far from the coastline. It will be a fatal mistake.”
Guderian spoke now, rubbing his forehead. “Gentlemen, please refrain from these displays of temper. Herr Rommel, I do