General Hermann Niehoff was rather critical of his flight to Breslau on 2 March. He was replacing the Festung commander General Hans von Ahlfen. He found himself in an unusual situation, flying into a city where the only wish of nearly 250,000 men and women was to be flown out. He described his flight, which to say the least was spectacular, in an article for the magazine Der Welt am Samstag. In the edition of15 January 1956 he wrote as follows:
We were flying on a northerly course to Breslau, which was only 46 kilometres away. I knew it could be a fateful one for me and perhaps one which could lead to my grave. The dark night skies gave protection for the moment. Then a sea of flames was to be seen which grew bigger as we approached Breslau! The protection of the darkness was suddenly rudely shattered with the burst of anti-aircraft fire. Then the searching fingers of searchlights lit the sky, just one or two at first. They increased in numbers, bumping into one another, in their haste to find us. They were blinding but not enough that I did not see the fright in the white faces of my chauffeur and my batman who grimly and silently viewed the scene below. There was a hurricane of shells bursting all around us, their noise adding to that of our engines. Like white mice, the flight of the tracers appeared to be directed at me, as I looked out of the window. They were concentrating at penetrating my heart, and this vivid impression accompanied me thereafter. It was an impression that I could not lose, even years after, as a prisoner of war.
Suddenly a very agitated pitot told us that we would have to turn around and return to base. Our engines had been hit and slowly the view disappeared behind and to the right of us. Gradually we left it all behind. The sea of flames disappeared. We landed not long after where we had begun our journey. The pilot wordlessly showed us where we had been hit at the rear of the plane and in the engines. Then he relaxed and his humour returned, for his mission had come to an end. Mine however had not.
A second attempt to fly General Niehoff into Breslau also failed. The second time it was because the controls of the Junkers were completely frozen. The third was successful, and it was through the efforts of a Technical Sergeant and Feldwebel. He had a trick up his sleeve, according to General Niehoff, and “simply oozed self-confidence!” The Feldwebel delivered the General with a daredevil flight, but safe and sound, into the inferno of Breslau. His technique was to spiral the Junkers high into the atmosphere, as high as “the old crate” would allow, and then turn the engine off! The Junkers would then noiselessly spiral to earth unnoticed, to just above the roofs of the houses. Daredevil indeed! However, after that experience, and landing safely at the aerodrome, the General then came under fire. He had to crawl on all fours, guided to safety by an ordnance officer with a torch.
It did not take long for this General to win the trust of troops and in-habitants. He was never to be found in his command post, an old ice-storage cellar that had damp walls, because he was always inspecting the current situation. He firstly made a reconnoitre of Breslau, making an underground house-to-house inspection. He squeezed through holes made in the cellar walls of the houses, providing access from one to the other. Up top, on the street, he had to run under fire in order to inspect the troops. Every unit in his command came under his critical eye. As the position of the front-line altered, his command post was changed to the building that housed the State and University Library on Sand Island, very close to Sand Church. He could then be found in the deepest cellars, thought to be the safest in Breslau.
In contrast, the rather young Gauleiter Karl Hanke, resided in a bunker of another quality, with many comforts. It was also assessed to be extremely secure. It had a number of offices, including a telephone centre, a communications room, a kitchen, canteen, shower rooms, and other rooms that were sectioned off with dividing curtains. He would sit in his ‘presidium’, a very large office or committee-room, surrounded by oil paintings, carpets and antique furniture, and using an oversized desk. In those surroundings he must have felt very comfortable indeed, and into which I stumbled quite unintentionally one day.
It was, if I remember correctly, in the middle or end of March that we had to change our positions because of very heavy artillery fire. We were seeking a safer place. Underground we could not know where we were, or where the long flight of stone steps which we took, would lead us. While investigating we suddenly found ourselves in a smoke-filled room. It was a fully furnished cellar. There were many people, both civilians and members of the military, and others wearing the brown Party uniforms. They were enjoying a feast at a very large table laden with food and drink, all of the finest quality. We, with our sudden appearance, had caught them unawares and put them in a very embarrassing position that could be clearly seen. Their guilty consciences demanded that we were invited to join them. We were duly showered with compliments on our performance, and helped with exaggerated gestures to the dishes. It was as if we were guests of honour, and not unshaven, unwashed and tattered ‘front-swine’ fresh from the main line of resistance, with ‘potato-mashers’ stuck into our boots!
We, as small fry, really could not complain about our Front-menu but this was another category. It was another world about which we could only dream, and somewhat grotesque at that. Up above there was all hell let loose. Deep under the centre of the burning city there was this almost Mephistophelian feast. We were sitting at this table! We were also overjoyed some time later, when bottles of ‘good cognac and wine’ were placed in our haversacks, with a hefty slap on the shoulder, to celebrate the ‘final victory’ and a victorious end of the war!
Today perhaps it is not so understandable that we were not disgusted at the Nazi ‘Golden Pheasants’ morals. That was a term very often used after the war and not understood by us at the time. But it did not ‘disgust’ us then. Perhaps we were too phlegmatic? I am no longer sure if in fact Gauleiter Hanke was present. If so, then he would have made himself very noticeable with his continual slogans. Throughout the siege, he was not very well liked by the inhabitants because of his over-exaggerated self-righteousness, when confronted with what he assessed as defeatist attitudes.