Once the war started, the violence built into the system gained new and powerful momentum. In the main, it was exported. The brunt of it was borne by the peoples of the countries conquered in the early, triumphant phase of the war. But repression at home against any signs of political non-conformity also intensifed. Jews, as always the top-ranking racial enemy and blamed incessantly in relentless propaganda for the war, were subjected to ever worsening, horrific persecution, especially when deportations to the east began in 1941.2 And terroristic repression was arbitrarily directed at the increasing numbers of foreign workers from the conquered countries, especially when the fortunes of war turned against Germany—a point symbolically marked by the catastrophe at Stalingrad in the winter of 1942/3. By this time, the legal system had effectively capitulated to the untrammelled might of the SS-police security apparatus. As the losses at the front mounted alarmingly and the pressures on the civilian population within Germany grew commensurately during the course of 1944, the regime became ever more sensitive to signs of dissent. Even so, criticism of the regime widened, as the authorities’ own monitoring services plainly indicated. Hitler’s own popularity—the focal point of ‘positive’ propaganda—had by now visibly waned. The Party was suffering a severe drop in its standing. Morale at the front, especially after the collapse in France, was wavering.
Dissolving support for the regime, which propaganda struggled vainly to combat, meant inexorably a greater recourse to terroristic repression. Following the attempt on Hitler’s life on 20 July 1944, and with Germany facing mounting adversity in the last months of the year, the population, as we have seen in earlier chapters, was increasingly forced into line in the total-war drive. Incautious remarks or any signs of what were deemed defeatism or subversion were ruthlessly punished. It was becoming an ever more dangerous regime for its own citizens.
Even so, from February 1945 onwards the terror within Germany moved to a new plane. The regime’s leaders, Hitler at the forefront, could now plainly see that, short of a miracle, defeat was staring them in the face. Propaganda parroted slogans aimed at boosting the readiness to hold out and fight on. But for most people now this was obviously whistling in the wind. As propaganda failed, violence intensified. The regime’s reflex to outright violence marked a combination of fear, desperation, defiance and revenge. Fear of another 1918; increasing wariness of the explosive potential of the millions of foreign workers in the country; desperation at the impending total defeat and the collapse of the regime; defiance of all forces—internal as well as external—seen to be dragging Germany to perdition; and revenge against all those who had stood against Nazism and would rejoice at its downfalclass="underline" the combination created a new level of violence arbitrarily directed against anyone seen to block or oppose the fight to the finish.
The worst of the retribution was, as ever, reserved for the regime’s designated enemies. The last months would prove murderous for Jews, foreign workers, prisoners of war and concentration camp internees as the vestiges of control over increasingly untrammelled violence dissolved. But the majority German population was now also subjected in increasing measure to wild reprisals for perceived defeatism. The slightest ill-judged remark or perceived minor opposition to the self-destructive course of the regime could prove disastrous for any individual. As the military fronts closed in on the Reich, the terror, once exported, was rebounding in the death-throes of the regime on the population of Germany itself. It was a mark of increasing desperation. Just as with the vain efforts of propaganda, terror could do nothing to halt the continued slide of morale. But it was more than sufficient to prevent any prospect of the misery, suffering and, by now, detestation of the Nazi regime in wide swathes of the population being converted into the type of revolutionary mood that had characterized the last stages of the First World War in 1917–18.
II
By the end of January, the regime was becoming seriously concerned at the signs of collapsing morale, both at home and—even more worryingly—at the front. Even from within the SS—however difficult it was, there above all, to admit it—there were voices prepared to acknowledge a deepening crisis.
On 26 January SS-Hauptsturmführer Rolf d’Alquen, staff officer in the propaganda department of Army Group Upper Rhine, wired a panicky message to his brother in Berlin, Standartenführer Gunter d’Alquen, editor of the SS newspaper Das Schwarze Korps. ‘The mood among the fighting troops has become more nervous and serious by the day on account of the events on the eastern front,’ he stated. Many who came from the eastern regions had their personal anxieties. ‘If the situation gets worse in the next days,’ he continued, ‘it can be reckoned that the fighting spirit of the troops will be paralysed by worries that can no longer be borne.’ The mood among the civilian population of the area was similar, he indicated. He wanted ‘a redeeming word from Führer Headquarters’ and asked, cautiously but pointedly, if it was possible to ascertain whether Hitler had told his entourage what he had in mind to master the crisis. Both among the troops and in the civilian population, it was clear that the front could only be held for a short time with existing weapons, he remarked. What hopes remained were invested in a weapon ‘that could nullify all that has been endured and all setbacks, and produce the decisive change on the fronts’.
He requested that the state of morale at the front should be brought to the Führer’s attention. This, almost certainly, did not happen. But his account did reach Himmler. D’Alquen’s message was relayed to Rudolf Brandt, Himmler’s personal adjutant, with a covering note that it was ‘typical for the psychological situation of the troops, but also for those there responsible for propaganda’. Himmler lost no time in replying. Though the troops had suffered setbacks, he declared, it was d’Alquen himself who was most depressed. His suggestion was ‘absolutely impossible’. The troops must be told to do their duty, however hard it was. When the west was protected, the Wehrmacht in the east would be ready to absorb the assault before ‘becoming active again’. ‘From you yourself’, Himmler closed, ‘I expect the inner bearing of an SS man.’3
A few days later, Himmler’s own newly created Army Group Vistula was reporting that the officers ‘no longer had the troops firmly in hand’ and ‘signs of dissolution of the worst kind’ were occurring as soldiers—and not just in occasional instances—‘pulled off their uniforms and tried in every way to obtain civilian clothing in order to get away’.4 The western Allies did not, however, for their part, based on their interrogations of captured soldiers, expect large-scale desertions. ‘The strongest deterrent against desertion continues to be fear of retaliation against one’s family,’ was their assessment. The feeling that the end of the war was close was a further reason not to take the high risk of deserting. Around 65 per cent of those interrogated in mid-February thought the war would be over in weeks. They fought on, it was adjudged, through desire for self-preservation, apathy (about all but their own immediate military situation) and an automatic sense of obedience.5 In the mayhem of the evacuations from the east, soldiers were said to be mingling with the evacuees, ‘marking time’ and trying to avoid further fighting, ‘in expectation of the coming end’, since the military police had either disappeared themselves or were helpless to control the massively overcrowded trains.6