Before the spellbound — and captive — audience, Hitler revealed his plan. He had been working to gather these forces since September. It was to be a multipronged effort.
Several divisions of troops that included the Second SS Panzer Division Das Reich and Volksgrenadier divisions, more than one hundred transport planes carrying paratroopers, hundreds of panzers, nearly two thousand heavy artillery guns, mortars, and V-1 rockets.
Under the direction of Otto Skorzeny, specially trained infiltrators who spoke English and wore American uniforms would wreak havoc behind enemy lines. These men were taking a huge chance, knowing that they would be shot as spies if captured.
At least a thousand of the Luftwaffe’s remaining operational bombers and fighters would take to the air, including a handful of the new Messerschmitt 262 jet fighters that crossed the skies at 525 miles per hour. Nothing that the Allies had could keep up with them.
Hitler was gambling everything.
But even Hitler wasn’t so mad that he didn’t grasp the enormity of the gamble he was making.
“You must know that we are besieged,” he said bitterly. “Surrounded on all sides by our enemies. The forces of the Russian dogs snarl at us from the East. Here against die Allierten we have our best chance of success, or at least of driving a wedge between our enemies. We must exploit their natural suspicions and jealousies.”
Here Der Führer paused. He seemed to gather himself for what he was about to say.
Eventually he continued: “It will not be possible to assemble such a force again. If we should fail here, there will be dark days ahead.”
Hitler was not someone who ever wanted to speak about the possibility of defeat. To hear Der Führer make this admission was incredible.
All that the stunned officers could do was listen — and think of a thousand reasons the plan would fail. Bauer could certainly think of a few.
Hitler did not ask for questions, and no one dared to ask any.
Once Der Führer had finished, there was an opportunity for the officers to filter past him for a quick handshake and a few words of encouragement. They had seen a glimpse of their old leader, but given his physical condition, and the hard fight ahead that they all faced on the battlefield, it was hard not to feel as if this might be the last time they saw their leader, or vice versa.
Bauer had never met Hitler in person. Normally Bauer didn’t lack for confidence, but in Hitler’s presence he found that all he could manage was to stammer, “Mein Führer.”
Nonetheless, he felt Der Führer take full notice of him, even if it was for the briefest instant. It was like stepping from a dark room into the full glare of the sun. Then Hitler’s attention turned to the next man. A little shaken, Bauer moved on.
Some of the bolder officers even took the opportunity to lobby for changes to the plan, but Hitler would not hear of it. He simply brushed off these concerns. With thoughts in the backs of their minds of those rumored cellars where the Gestapo waited with meat hooks on which to hang troublemakers, the generals were in no position to argue.
Good career soldiers tended to be pragmatists. They weighed the odds. The odds of defying Hitler and surviving were not very good.
Although Bauer could not have known it, the situation was completely different from the one at Allied headquarters, where some debate was expected, even if Eisenhower ultimately made the decisions. Even from the top, FDR and Churchill might cajole, but they did not dictate — they delegated.
“The reasoning is sound enough,” one general confided to another on the ride back. Bauer overheard him, although the general was keeping his voice low so the driver couldn’t eavesdrop. Gestapo spies were everywhere. “We might just manage to drive a wedge between the Allies.”
“Yes,” the other general agreed. “And perhaps more time will enable us to deploy our new weapons and turn the tide. But the Ardennes? In wintertime?”
His companion just shook his head. Curiously, he then quoted from a poem called “Charge of the Light Brigade,” written by an Englishman, Lord Tennyson. It was a poem about bravery and duty in the Crimean War, even in the face of a fatal military blunder.
“Theirs not to make reply,
“Theirs not to reason why,
“Theirs but to do and die.”
Bauer didn’t say anything, but he thought that summed up the situation perfectly.
Just four days after that mysterious and fateful meeting, the attack began.
The sheer scope and fury of the attack immediately put American forces in disarray.
There was good reason for that. First, the Ardennes region was thinly defended, not seen as a priority. The mountainous terrain seemed like all the defense that was needed.
