D DAY Through German Eyes - The Hidden Story of June 6th 1944

by Holger Eckhertz

Some prisoners were being offered work outside the camp, and I joined this group, being assigned to work on vehicle repairs at a depot in a nearby town. After some time, I was allowed to live outside the camp in return for an oath of good behaviour; I took lodgings with an elderly lady in the town who treated me as one of the family. I still correspond with her at Christmas time.

It was said of the troops in France that they ‘lived like the Gods.’ All my comrades slapped me on the back when they heard where I was going, and called me a lucky swine and so on. And you know, when I joined the 716th Infantry Division in France, I realised what a lucky swine I was. The food was excellent, and it was possible to buy virtually anything that you wanted on the black market.

A Wehrmacht Bon Vivant, eh?

Of course, I found later in June, July and August 1944 that even such a beautiful place as Normandy could be turned into an absolute nightmare by battles between men. When you see a hundred men in a field who have been killed by artillery shells, and you cannot tell which head goes with which body, or which arms and legs; well, after that I was able to face my brother in the knowledge that I had experienced as much as him.

We were not politically sophisticated, any of us,

But almost all of us had lost someone in the Allied bombing attacks on German cities, and this made us bitter.

I heard the sounds of falling shells, which was a roaring noise very different to a falling bomb from an aircraft. This roaring was unusually loud, sounding like a heavy engine being accelerated.

A Gefreiter (corporal),

I thought a Gefreiter was the equivalent of a PFC?

They were Sherman class tanks, this was clear from the rounded turret. They were fitted with what seemed to me to be canvas boxes or screens around their hulls, and they were literally swimming towards the shore. I was astonished to see this – they were not on rafts, or being towed, but somehow swimming under their own propulsion. As an engineer, I simply could not understand how the Allies got these tanks to do that.

This Canadian gave a shout and swung at me with the stock of his rifle, and smashed me in the face across my eyes. I fell back onto the ground, blinded. Was this the first time you had been in hand-to-hand combat? Yes. I was not prepared for it, mentally or physically. This man was determined to kill me, that was clear.

I fired up at this figure with my pistol, not aiming properly but just pointing it at his outline. I fired twice, and sprays of blood from him blew back at me.

Just like the movies?

These were not the official ROA troops, who had their own leaders and insignia. These were Polish, Ukrainian or Baltic men who had been enlisted or had volunteered for the Wehrmacht, and wore the same uniforms as the German troops, serving under the same officers. We must remember that at this stage in the war, the German armed forces were a kaleidoscope of European nationalities and languages. This to some extent bolstered the idea of the ‘United Europe.’

So you were facing the type of tank known as the Churchill Crocodile? After the war, I learned that ‘Crocodile’ was the official name for the thing. We came to know it as a Flammenpanzer (flame tank), and it had a hugely demoralising effect on our troops.

These Hanomag troops were dressed differently from us: they had camouflage uniforms and their helmets were coated with foliage. They were armed with the most modern weapons, including the MP44 sub machine gun and a Panzerschrek weapon, in addition to Panzerfausts. They were a reconnaissance group from an SS Panzergrenadier regiment to the south,

and it was obvious that there were no Luftwaffe planes in the sky, not a single one to be seen.

Recurring theme.

These Waffen SS men became very enthusiastic about the prospect of engaging these three tanks with their Panzerschrek. The difference in mentality between these SS troops and the troops I had led at the bunker was remarkable.

I saw a sight which shocked me and made me doubt what we were really trying to achieve in this fighting.

but the Panzerschrek crew were putting their pistols back into their holsters. They winked at me and said it was time for us to leave. It was clear to me that the Panzerschrek men had shot the tank crew as they came down from the tank, in the back of the head. This disturbed me greatly, as it was against the way that I thought we should conduct the war. I knew the reputation of the Waffen SS as very ruthless fighters, but this was an unnecessary and

I remember that all of this was taking place in the perfectly beautiful landscape of the Normandy valleys, with their sparkling streams, ripe corn, apple orchards and pear orchards. Here and there was a perfect little French chateau or villa, and then around the corner was a group of German trucks that had been bombed, with body pieces spread all over the road and evening hanging from the trees. All this was on the still, warm evening of the 6th June as we went South. Truly, this was an instance of paradise being turned to hell by the hands of mankind.

heavy calibre guns usually of naval origin, being guns of up to 21cm calibre as one would find on a light battleship.

“Light battleship,” or heavy cruiser?

Before I answer that simply, let me give you, Mein Herr, some background to the morale issue. Let me say firstly that, contrary to what some people may believe today, the mood in early to mid-1944 among the German forces was not disheartened. Far from it. It is true that we had lost the North African oil supplies, but, equally, the American arrival in Tunisia had been unimpressive. Italy was holding firm, and the Allies were expending huge resources on the war there for no great purpose at all.

Industrial production was not only holding firm under the air bombing, but actually rising in early 1944. The air bombing itself had hardened the men’s anger at the Allies and their resolve. Everyone had lost civilian relatives, friends and neighbours to the bombing, almost without exception.

and there were constant themes of ‘Wunderwaffen’ (super weapons) in the state propaganda, hinting that these machines which we already knew about were simply the forerunners of what Germany would soon produce. Today, of course, we know that this was mistaken, and that the practical ingenuity of our engineers had already peaked in mid-1944 with the V1 and the V2; from then on, everything was purely designs on paper.

We did not have ‘political education’ in the way that the Red Army had this, but we included these ideas in our address to the teams at inspection and training times during the day. The troops were very receptive, very motivated, and discipline was good. I am not exaggerating when I say that the general spirit of the bunker was first class.

I have heard people say that ‘there was no Luftwaffe’ or ‘the Allies controlled the air’ but in my case I clearly saw, through the embrasure, a twin-engined night fighter pursuing an Allied bomber out over the sea, and shooting it up with tracer. Both aircraft went off into the clouds, firing at each other. After that, there were long pathways of aircraft going in both directions overhead, far more intense even than the regular raiding formations.

Ah, now a contrarian perspective on the Luftwaffe situation.

Like many troops, I partly hoped that, in the event of my death, my wife would somehow receive the letter. I also partly believed the old soldier’s story that the power of such a letter, being placed over my heart, would deflect shrapnel or bullets.

Their faces were set rigid, in an expression of absolute hatred. Sheer hatred. This worried me. Why would men, who were the same race as us, who were physically similar to us, why would they hate us in this way? Why would they want to burn us alive, when we were protecting Europe? What was the origin of this hatred? I had no answer to such questions.

Really, Herr Leutnant?

They had black paint on their faces and wore red berets.

1 Para or 3 Para?

The horizon of the sea was filling up with vast numbers of ships. Anyone who was present will confirm that the horizon was literally filled from East to West with vessels.

Those recurring themes again.

We were all struck speechless at this sight for several seconds, as we had not envisaged the full scale of the onslaught that was about to hit us. Above all, there was no sign of our forces fighting back on sea or in the air. The sea between us and this oncoming horde was completely empty and featureless, and there were no dogfights or aerial battles taking place overhead.

Those recurring themes again.