Paris '44

The City of Light Redeemed

William Mortimer Moore

• Publisher: Casemate
• Year: 2015
• ISBN:
  9781612003443
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: World War II
• Index: History

"A fine, racy account of the Occupation and Liberation of Paris—a rattlingly good read" (Giles MacDonogh, author of After the Reich ). During the fall of 1944, once the Western Allies had gained military advantage over the Nazis, the crown jewel of Allied strategy became the liberation of Paris—the capital of France so long held in captivity. This event, however, was steeped in more complexity when the Allies returned than in 1940 when Hitler's legions first marched in. In 1944, the city was beset by cross-currents about who was to reclaim it—the French Resistance, the long-suffering Parisians themselves, or the Anglo-American armies which had indeed won the victory. This book punctures the myth parlayed by Is Paris Burning? and other works that describe the city's liberation as mostly the result of the Resistance insurrection in the capital. Amidst the swirling streams of self-interest and intrigue that beset Paris on the eve of its liberation, this book makes clear that Gen. Leclerc and his 2nd Armored Division were the real heroes of the liberation and that marching on their capital city was their raison d'etre. At issue was the reconstitution of France itself after the dark night of its soul under the Germans, and despite the demands of the Anglo-Americans and France's own insurrectionists. That a great power was restored is now manifest, with this book explaining how it was ensured. "Gets the full five stars... The prose here really does bring wartime France to life."— War History Online

Chapter 1

De Gaulle, the French, and the Occupation, 1940–1944

June 1940

IN 1940 COLONEL CHARLES DE GAULLE was one of the French Army’s foremost thinkers and an authority on armoured warfare. After a brave, moderately distinguished record in the First World War,* his intellectual bent was noted by Marshal Philippe Pétain who, as Colonel Pétain, first welcomed newly commissioned 2nd Lieutenant de Gaulle to the 33rd Infantry Regiment in 1913. During the 1920s de Gaulle ghostwrote a book for Pétain to publish as his own, but the Marshal’s high-handedness over this extra-hierarchical matter led to them falling out. De Gaulle subsequently declared, “Marshal Pétain was a great man who died in 1925.”

During the 1930s de Gaulle published several books on military theory, most notably Vers l’Armée du Métier (published in English as The Army of the Future), arguing that France should re-arm herself with tanks and aircraft. These were views he developed with the lively retired Colonel Émile Mayer over lunches at the Brasserie Dumesnil opposite the Gare Montparnasse. Book-writing turned de Gaulle into a high-flyer nicknamed “Colonel Motors” for lobbying French politicians for the introduction of armoured divisions. While Germany’s expanding Wehrmacht enthusiastically embraced these ideas, they met with little enthusiasm in France. Visionary officers like Colonel du Vigier, Commandant of Saumur’s Cavalry School, agreed with de Gaulle, but most cavalry officers hated the idea of tanks replacing cavalry as the “fast arm” capable of transforming battlefields at a stroke.

Money was another problem. Under Admiral Darlan and naval minister Georges Leygues, France gave herself a large modern navy during the interwar years, regarding it as an imperial necessity. While on land the fact that France held back the Germans with trenchlines and static defences for most of the “Great War” made senior army officers predict that future land wars would also be static, a view supported by War Minister André Maginot. Millions of francs were spent on the vast “Maginot Line” fortifications, leaving little for other things the army desperately needed. New armoured vehicles appeared as awkward designs, under-armed, lacking radios, assembled in incoherent formations that were neither infantry nor armoured divisions. The French Air Force made similar mistakes.

The Second World War’s first nine months passed uneventfully for France. The winter of 1939–1940 was a cold one, the enforced inactivity having a catastrophic effect on French Army morale. In the spring, the Germans began their campaign by seizing Denmark and Norway. On 10 May 1940 they launched their western offensive, crossing the Meuse at Sedan and sending a massive tank attack to punch through and corner the British Expeditionary Force and the French First Army against the sea around Dunkirk. A British armoured counterattack at Arras, intended to break the encirclement, was held back by German anti-tank artillery, while at Stonne another armoured counterattack led by Captain Pierre Billotte, son of French general Gaston Billotte, was repulsed.

Bouleversé by the ferocity of Germany’s attack, much of northern France’s population fled their homes, becoming road-clogging refugees. Having virtually broken down, French commander in chief General Gamelin was replaced by General Maxime Weygand, formerly Marshal Foch’s adjutant in 1918. No sooner had Weygand organised a new defensive line than the Germans broke through it. A local success at Moncornet by Colonel de Gaulle’s tank force finally persuaded French premier Paul Reynaud to listen to him, promoting him général de brigade (brigadier general). Dashing into Paris to meet Reynaud and collect his new uniform, de Gaulle entered tailors Petitdemange a colonel and emerged a general.¹ He then led a larger counterattack at Abbeville, for which General Weygand kissed him on both cheeks.

Reynaud first offered de Gaulle a political appointment at the Abbeville briefing. De Gaulle accepted in principle, but was more interested in creating armoured formations capable of protecting Paris.² But it was too late for that. The British were evacuating from Dunkirk. Furthermore, population deficiencies caused by the First World War combined with losses sustained since 10 May meant that France’s army was outnumbered by three to one.

When the Germans crossed the lower Seine, Reynaud summoned under-secretary of state de Gaulle from the Hôtel Lutetia in the small hours. “Who could defend Paris and how?” Reynaud wondered. De Gaulle suggested Jean de Lattre de Tassigny, whose division was performing well. But Reynaud feared that more senior generals might resent a mere divisionnaire (divisional commander) directing the capital’s defence, even though Gamelin and Weygand were clearly overwhelmed. Ignoring de Gaulle’s advice to circumvent normal hierarchies, Reynaud appointed the dour General Henri Dentz instead.³

The French government evacuated to Bordeaux. Sickened, de Gaulle drafted a letter of resignation which he showed to Georges Mandel. The tough-minded Jew advised de Gaulle against this; there would be no one left in Reynaud’s government with any guts.⁴ With defeatism hanging heavily in the air, Weygand, Pétain and Admiral Darlan prepared to sue for peace and dismantle French democracy as soon as they could. To veteran British liaison officer Major-General Sir Edward Spears, only de Gaulle possessed the drive to continue fighting, while among the civilians, only Mandel impressed him.

Arriving at the Château de Muguet for the Briare conference, de Gaulle met Pétain for the first time in two years. Pétain congratulated de Gaulle on his promotion before remarking sourly, “But what use is rank in a defeat?”

“But Marshal,” replied de Gaulle, “it was during the retreat of 1914 that you yourself were given your first stars.”

“Aucun rapport! ”—“No comparison!” replied Pétain.⁵

Discussions with the British deteriorated when Pétain complained that, whereas he brought forty divisions to relieve General Gough during the “Kaiserschlacht” of 1918, the British now seemed unwilling to return the favour. Nor, thanks to Air Marshal Dowding’s insistence, was Churchill prepared to commit more fighter aircraft. When Churchill asked the French to hold out for a few months Weygand replied that France needed help immediately to avoid seeking terms. Particularly disappointing for Churchill was that Reynaud’s fighting spirit was consistently undermined by his self-centred mistress, Countess Hélène de Portes, who encouraged him to appoint defeatists in important positions. Reynaud saw no hope without massive American intervention. To compound the disaster, Italy joined the war on Germany’s side on 10 June and the British 51st Highland Division surrendered at Saint-Valéry. With a quarter of her population now refugees, France also faced a massive displacement crisis.

Walking in the gardens, Churchill asked Spears’ opinion of de Gaulle. “Completely staunch,” replied Spears.⁶ After further disappointing discussions, seeing de Gaulle standing taciturnly beside his ADC, Captain Courcel, Churchill muttered, “L’homme du destin,” in his inimitable Franglais.⁷

Shortly afterwards de Gaulle warned Spears that Paul Baudouin was spreading stories that Churchill would understand if France negotiated a separate peace. Furious, Spears drove after Churchill, who had already departed for the airfield. Churchill categorically assured Spears that he never consented to France making a separate peace.⁸

DE GAULLE’S SUSPICIONS WERE CORRECT. Earlier that day General Émile Barazer de Lannurien arrived from General Héring requesting clear instructions regarding the defence of Paris. After walking in the garden with Weygand, Lannurien had his answer. Although the capital had escaped with only sporadic bombardment from the Kaiser’s “Paris gun” during the previous war, Weygand decided that 1940 was different and that Paris should be declared an “open city.” Pétain and Reynaud—also in the garden awaiting Churchill’s arrival—agreed without demur. Hence both Churchill and de Gaulle attended the Briare conference unaware that General Lannurien was already returning to Paris to give Héring and Dentz their orders.⁹ Yet Spears later acknowledged that defending Paris “would have been a stupendous undertaking even with the full and enthusiastic backing of Pétain and Weygand”.¹⁰

When General Dentz realised he had only been appointed military governor of Paris to conduct its surrender, he wrote to Weygand protesting vehemently. Weygand telephoned his reply, “My decision is final; you must stay in Paris.” The following day Paris was declared an open city. Fighting within her boundaries was banned. French troops were ordered to retreat around rather than through Paris. General Héring, who commanded the Army of Paris, withdrew his men on 12 June, bidding Dentz adieu at Les Invalides. Dentz wrote forlornly in his diary, “As to having the people of Paris take up arms—what arms? To resist tank divisions which had just chopped up French armies—such talk would only have led to a massacre.”¹¹

The city’s Prefect of Police, Roger Langeron, now faced thousands of deserters fleeing southwards into Paris along with the possibility of the militant working class taking the city’s defence into their own hands. Many Paris policemen wanted to leave and join the armies still fighting. But Langeron ordered them to remain at their posts to “preserve security and order”. Some left anyway, but most did not. Recognising the depth of feeling, Langeron called a meeting in the Préfecture, the Paris police’s imposing mineteenth-century headquarters on the Ile de la Cité’s south quay between the Palais de Justice and the treasured cathedral of Notre Dame. Langeron reminded them their duty was to Paris, to protect Parisians, even from themselves, and to prevent looting and anything that might provoke reprisals. Those with young children, especially daughters, or previously involved in intelligence cases, Langeron permitted to leave. The rest shouted “Vive la France! ”¹²

“Thousands of people of all nationalities, French, Canadian, English, Belgian, Romanian and even Italian are turning to us in despair for advice and comfort. The fact that I am here is a strong element in preventing a fatal panic,” US Ambassador William C. Bullitt wrote to President Roosevelt.¹³ A tradition began during the French Revolution that, whoever else fled the city, the American Ambassador would not.

The following day General Dentz requested Bullitt’s help. Once posters proclaiming Paris an open city appeared, Bullitt telephoned America’s ambassador in Switzerland asking him to relay this information to Berlin. Although consoling himself that his duty was merely to keep order rather than negotiate the city’s surrender, Dentz would not escape that role. At 5pm the Germans asked the French to send them a truce party. Dentz took a call from Weygand who was reassured that the atmosphere in Paris was calm. The Germans, however, angered that their negotiators were fired upon from the French lines, now insisted that unless a French truce party reached them by 5am the following morning, their attack on Paris would begin. Dentz sent Major André Devouges to General Erich Marcks’ HQ at Ecouen. In a manor house’s candlelit dining room, Devouges heard the German terms: Paris was to be surrendered in full working order, including utilities and broadcasting stations; security and safety services must remain in place; the population must remain indoors for forty-eight hours after German troops entered the city. There was some haggling over this last item, which Devouges believed was unenforceable. Then a German orderly announced, “Paris has surrendered!”¹⁴

The city was stunned; its great boulevards were free of automobile traffic so that German staff officer General Walter Warlimont, flying overhead in a Fieseler Storch, asked his pilot to land on the Champs Élysées. Having witnessed Germany’s defeat in 1918, this was the most exhilarating moment of his life.¹⁵ The Wehrmacht’s joyride into Paris began.

AS FRANCE FELL, CHURCHILL CAST AROUND for ways of propping her up. “As things now stand,” de Gaulle said, “you must neglect nothing that can support France and maintain our alliance.” After several hours discussing how to prevent defeatists from taking power, Churchill suggested a Franco-British union; the idea had come from Jean Monnet a few days earlier. This was gesture politics, but it seemed worth a try. Churchill telephoned Reynaud, “Il faut tenir”—”You must hold on.” During these days de Gaulle established himself in Churchill’s eyes as a future great Frenchman: “Here is the Constable of France.” Even so Churchill refused to send any more aircraft or troops across the Channel. De Gaulle himself ordered a French cargo ship carrying American munitions to divert to a British port. Nevertheless, using an RAF aircraft, de Gaulle took Churchill’s union suggestion to Paul Re...