I will be posting a number of WW2 selected gems extracted fom a precious stone mine located at http://warandgame.blogspot.com

If there is any complaint for unappropriate use or any other reason, please Mr. Moderator delete the thread. This blog is a thing of beauty

[Edit]The blog author has kindly provided permission to go ahead with this. An occasional word of thanks would not be amiss, to mitchaskari@gmail.com [/edit]

Sunday, December 23, 2007

BOOK REVIEW: Hitler's Millennial Reich: Apocalyptic Belief and the Search for Salvation

David Redles. Hitler's Millennial Reich: Apocalyptic Belief and the Search for Salvation. New York: New York University Press, 2005. x +
261 pp. Appendix, notes, index. $45.00 (cloth), ISBN 978-0-8147-7524-0.

Reviewed for H-Genocide by Peter W. Petschauer, Department of History, Appalachian State University

The Search for a Final Solution: The Nazi Millennial Program

David Redles informs his readers early on of the purpose of his book _Hitler's Millennial Reich_. "What follows, then, is a study of myth. In particular, it is a study of how the apocalypse complex helped shape Hitler's messianic self-perception, propelled the formation, growth and success of the Nazi movement, and ultimately gave impetus to what the Nazis termed the Final War and Final Solution--World War II and the Holocaust" (p. 13). From this clear articulation, Redles moves through six equally clearly delineated chapters.

In "A World Turned Upside Down," he speaks of the earliest steps of the National Socialist movement in the context of the post-World War I economic, social, and cultural chaos. He continues with "The Turning Point," in which he shows how the early Nazis found inspiration in the chaos of Weimar Germany when they identified Jews as the originators of Germany's difficulties. They also determined that Germans and Jews would face each other in a final struggle and told themselves that the Jewish Bolshevik menace would end in defeat. In the third chapter, "Seeing the Light," Redles offers detailed accounts and quotes of conversions of some of the earliest Nazis to the cause. "Hitler as Messiah" is the logical next chapter and Redles here illustrates how Hitler became the "Drummer," Messiah, and Prophet--really the leader--of the movement. But since leaders need followers, Redles rightly offers this link in the fifth chapter, "The Messiah Legitimated." Particularly fascinating in this discussion is how he shows Hitler's ability to express Nazi followers' thoughts and desires in his speeches. Redles concludes with "Final Empire, Final War, Final Solution," a careful analysis of how Hitler and his immediate following arrived at the Final Solution as a direct outcome of the earliest moments of the movement when they anticipated the struggle between Germans and (Bolshevik/Communist) Jews.

Having personally known a number of Nazi officials and having read--over the last twenty-five years--more than the usual information about National Socialist ideology and its various horrid activities, as I sorted out the role of a number of SS members, I applaud Redles's thesis and its defense. Very importantly, he maintains that the National Socialist (NS) elite and followers believed in what they said, and not just about Bolsheviks and Jews. Some recent scholars, maybe because of their own cynicism or their reaction to more current leaders, doubt that NS leaders believed their own rhetoric that ultimately allowed for multiple heinous human rights violations. Redles is right on target. To be specific, my father, as a member of the diplomatic SS, felt betrayed by the regime he had served and admired America's past accomplishments in a number of areas, especially culturally; this following the loss of World War II and three years in American camps. Nevertheless, to the end of his life, he retained his fear of Soviet-styled communism and believed that it would take over the West; he was certain of this outcome because, according to him, the West was in an irreversible cultural decline at least since the 1960s.

As early as the beginning of the 1920s, National Socialists wanted to create a millennial state that would, as the term implies, last permanently, and be free of the chaos that surrounded them in Weimar Germany. As they reflected on their world and read various tracts, they determined that Jews were the principal reason for the loss of World War I, the calamity at Versailles, and the disruptive postwar environment.

While Redles's discussion of the emergence of NS's apocalyptic belief is clear, and its appeal to men of the time makes immense sense, I do wonder why he did not make more of Hitler's early life in Austria, where his earlier hatred of Jews was learned; the contemporaneous suspicions of Jews in the upper levels of the Weimar government; and the awareness of Jews in several prominent positions in the early Soviet Union.

Equally admirable is Redles's willingness to disassemble the issue of the Final Solution's first steps. As indicated, he shows that this idea had its beginnings in the 1920s and discusses how it became a key aspect of the NS ideology. He amasses convincing evidence that the so-called Final Solution was not decided at the Wannsee Conference in January 1942, as is commonly taught; the purpose of that conference was simply to determine how to most efficiently carry out the details of this goal.

The overall goal was decided earlier and--as we now know--carried out ruthlessly. The reality is that as soon as areas were taken over by the Wehrmacht (regular army) in Eastern Europe, the SS followed with the systematic killing of Jews. In Vilna, for example, the Jewish leadership was eliminated in early July 1941 as the first step to the systematic murder of almost the entire Jewish population.[1] The idea of an all-out war on European Jews, that is, not moving them east or to the Middle East, or even into labor camps, but murdering every last one of them, thus goes further back as well.

Especially interesting for scholars is the appendix entitled "The Hitler Gospels and Old Guard Testimonials: Reconstructing a Mythical World" (pp. 919-201); it is an excellent discussion of the use of sources pertaining to the NS doctrine.

I recommend Redles's _Hitler's Millennial Reich_ to the general reader as well as graduate students and scholars interested in NS ideology. I also recommend it as a lesson in how an ideology is used by shrewd leaders and their believers to overtake a society legitimately, then turn it on perceived enemies, and, finally, sadly, turn it on itself.

Anyone who thinks that such an apocalyptic belief is the exclusive domain of Germans, or Germany of the 1930s and 1940s, is unfortunately mistaken.

Note
[1]. Michael Good, _In Search of Major Plagge: The Nazi Who Saved Jews_ (New York: Fordham University Press, 2005).

__________________

Caproni CA.183bis high-altitude fighter




In 1942 Caproni began construction on a high-altitude fighter using prop and jet thrust. The Caproni CA 183bis had a DB 605 of 1,250 HP in the nose driving two three-blade contra-rotating props with a 700 HP Fiat A.30 radial behind the cockpit driving a Campini compressor expected to furnish a 60 MPH boost of jet thrust for an optimistic maximum speed of 460 MPH with a range of 1242 miles. One 20 mm was to be in the prop hub with four more in the wings. Weight was to be 16,538 lbs. with a 48-foot wingspan.

The CA 183 was not all that complicated though performance expectations seems optimistic.

Engine: 1x Alfa-Romeo "Tifone"(Daimler-Benz DB-605) making 1,250 hp driving a six blade contrarotating propellor.
1x FIAT A.30 radial piston engine making 700 hp driving the Campini engine
Weight: Loaded 16.538 lb
Maximum Speed: 460 mph / 520 mph with "Thermojet"
Range: 1,242 miles
Crew: 1
Armament: 4x 20 mm cannons in the wings and 1x 30 mm cannon between the cylinder banks of the engine.

The Italians already had knowledge of the German jets through their Rome-Berlin pact and worked together at Riva del Garda (Re- named the Hermann Goering Institute) on advanced jet designs that included a Turboproietti Jet Round Bomb (Italian V-1 type unmanned weapon) and a disc aircraft with two slung turbojets, various rim intakes for another internal engine, a domed canopy, and two canted tailfins. This was only discovered recently after the designer died and the plans were discovered in his apt. Apparently, this is probably what Mussolini referred to as the "Piastra di Volo" (Flying Plate) design.

The Germans for their part provided Italy with DB engines that improved their fighter and bomber designs of Fiat, Macchi, and Savoia- Marchetti. Jumos were on order for the Re.2007 and Piaggio's chief designer D'Ascanio requested information on the BMW 003 for a radical jet helicopter he was designing.

But the war ended for Italy and a lot of documents went missing or destroyed. D-Ascanio postwar experimented with a turbine helicopter, but is better known as the inventor of the Vespa moto-scooter! Most of the other manufacturers either went under or became merged in jet manufacture.

Might Have Beens: Italian Twin-Engined Fighters, 1943

__________________

“SUMIDA” NO-NOT

sumida.jpg

Type 2593 "Sumida"

At times some books will refer to a Type 2593 "Sumida" Armored Car in the Japanese inventory. Careful research has found this label to be an error. Type 2593 "Sumida" Armored Car is the Model 91 Broad-gauge Railroad Tractor. "Sumida" was the name of the firm before it was changed to Ishikawajima.

The Type 93 was designed primarily as a utility vehicle for the IJA, and featured six railroad wheels which could be equipped with ingeniously designed rubber rims, allowing off-track service; these were fitted while the hull was raised using a series of integral jacks. Frequently identified as the Type 93 Sumida (once again, based upon the name of the arsenal responsible for its production), there is some debate as to whether the vehicle is properly classified as an armored car. Japanese literature sometimes refers to the Sumida as a "Broad Gauge Railroad Tractor". In keeping with this, the Type 93 was clearly designed with use in China and Manchuria in mind, as the native Japanese rail gauge was more narrow than in the two regions previously mentioned.

The Type 93 was armed with six 7.7mm LMGs. One each was mounted to the hull sides, and to the fore and aft of the hull. A sixth machine gun was mounted in the turret. The vehicle had a crew of six, could do a top speed of about 25mph on the road or 37mph on rail, and was claimed to be capable of moving from rail to road in a period of less than ten minutes. Armor protection maxed out at about 16mm.

The Type 93 was used almost exclusively in the China/Manchuria theatre.

Rail armored car, also called as broad-gauge railroad prime mover. Was widely used in Manchuria and China by army and naval [marines] units. Railroad prime mover type 91 [2592 "Chiyoda"] was improved 2590 and had special device for regulation the distance between wheels for use the railroads with differ rail gauge [in China and USSR]. Type 2593 "Sumida" [also based on "Chiyoda" truck chassis] appeared in 1933, equipped with 4 lifting jacks, powered from engine [change of road/railroad run took 10 min]. Those armored cars [2590, 2592, 2593] were used widely and effective as railroad engines for tow railcars with infantry and cargos in China [usually two armored cars were coupled], also as patrol rail/road armored cars, for repair operations along the Chinese railroads.

Type 91 Armored Railroad Car "So-Mo"
Introduced Year : 1933
Weight : 7.7 ton
Dimensions: 6.58 x 1.9 x 2.95(h) m
Engine : Gasoline Engine 40 PS/1300 rpm [some were equipped with 100 hp diesels]
Speed (max) : 40 km/hr (ground), 60km/hr (railroad)
Armour,
Upper Hull Front: 16mm @ 45º
Lower Hull Front: 16mm @ 10º
Hull Sides: 11mm @ 0º
Hull Rear: 11mm @ 15º
Hull Top: 6mm @ 85º
Hull Bottom: 6mm
Gun Mantlet: 11mm @ 0º
Turret Front: 16mm @ 20º
Turret Sides: 16mm @ 20º
Turret Rear: 16mm @ 20º
Turret Top: 6mm @ 80º
Crew : 6
Production Qty : 1,000

__________________

BRITISH MILITARY TRANSPORT WWII



Full size: trucksbrit.jpg (image)


full size: trucksbritmore.jpg (image)

The British Expeditionary Force that landed in France in 1939 was a fully mechanized formation. Perhaps the loss of about 90,000 vehicles in France was a blessing to the British military transport organization as it cleared all the 'dead wood', and thus paved the way for fresh ideas. The chronic shortage of transport forced a further temporary introduction of impressment until specific types of vehicles could be produced in greater numbers. The Commonwealth with its many assets was given the orders to produce many of these urgently needed types. Canada made a contribution out of all proportion to the size of its small automotive industry with its series of all-wheel-drive tactical trucks ranging from 15-cwt 4 x 4 to 3-ton 6x6, produced with various types of cabs from 1940 to 1943. During the early period the Canadian chassis and cabs were built to Canadian designs but to British specifications. The early wooden bodies were later replaced by pressed steel bodies.

The invasion of Europe was soon in the minds of the Allied planners, and considerable thought was being given to supplying the vast armies that would make the attack across Europe into Germany. It would require a supply system of a magnitude never before envisaged, and the production of trucks would be at a premium for the next two to three years. The British truck industry thus began to produce its own four-wheel-drive vehicles, with such established names as Bedford, Ford, Karrier, Thornycroft and Albion being to the fore. Once the Allied assault had gained momentum the supply lines would soon be overstretched, and to help overcome this problem heavier 10-ton trucks were also put into production.

A brief Survey of Types

Just before the outbreak of war in 1939 the British army was in the process of intensive mechanization, and several classes of load capacity had been defined for 'B' vehicles. The second class was the 8-cwt truck which fulfilled such roles as the OS (General Service) and FFW (Fitted For Wireless). Such 8-cwt trucks with both 4x2 and 4x4 wheel arrangements were produced in considerable numbers from a period just before the war, but were eventually phased out of production in order to rationalize output and reduce the number of types in service. The 5-cwt and 15-cwt classes could carry out any duties that had been allocated to the 8-cwt class. These vehicles were manufactured by Ford, Morris and Humber. Similar in appearance, these vehicles had detachable well-type bodies with seating for three men (two facing offside and one nearside) and canvas tilts, though the wireless version had seating for two men only.

Together with the Ford 4x2 Heavy Utility, the Humber Heavy Utility Car was the basic staff and command car of the British army during World War II at all levels of command. Nicknamed the Humber 'Box', this was the only British built four-wheel drive utility car, and production began during May 1941, continuing for the duration of the war. Employed on a very wide scale, this staff car remained in service until the late 1950s.

The Morris Company produced a whole range of vehicles for the British army, one of the most successful being the Morris C8 Artillery Tractor (popularly known as the Quad). Introduced in 1939, this vehicle had four-wheel drive and was equipped with a 4-ton winch driven from the transfer case. It had a distinctive beetle-shaped body and usually a towed limber and 18- or 25-pdr gun/howitzer. As far as the army was concerned the vehicles built for gun-towing had to have the same characteristics as the horse-drawn gun carriage team which they replaced, such as good cross-country performance, seating for the gun crew, and adequate stowage space for equipment and ammunition.

During 1935 the War Office carried out trials with new lorry models, and the Bedford Truck Division of Vauxhall Motors Ltd submitted various prototype vehicles. One of these was a modification of the commercial 2-ton lorry with rear-wheel drive. Following the trials the vehicle was fitted with a new radiator and larger tyres. After further trials in 1936 the chassis was modified to increase the ground clearance and a new engine cooling system was incorporated. In 1937aspecial-totype Bedford WD prototype was produced on this chassis, rated at 15-cwt payload capacity. The most noticeable feature was the flat full-width bonnet necessitated by the extra-large air filter specified by the War Mechanisation Board. During 1938 a more powerful engine was used. An initial order for 2,000 Bedford 15-cwt Truck vehicles was placed in August 1939, the first 50 being constructed as special portée vehicles to carry the 2-pdr anti-tank gun. Originally, the vehicle had an open cab with folding windscreen and collapsible canvas tilt, but from 1943 an enclosed cab with side-doors, canvas top and perspex side screens was adopted. By the end of the war Bedford had produced a total of 250,000 vehicles, a large proportion of which were this model. The vehicle remained in service with the British army until the late 1950s. Although intended mainly as a workhorse for the infantry, the Bedford 15-cwt GS eventually became used by all arms including the Royal Navy and the RAF.

Bedford's involvement in four-wheel drive vehicles began in 1938, during the development stages of the square-nosed 15-cwt Bedford. It was suggested that the War Office be approached with permission to proceed with this design. Some degree of interest was expressed, but as no immediate requirement was envisaged the matter proceeded no further. Then Bedford decided to undertake private development on a low-priority basis with an eye to future military orders. After the outbreak of war the War Office issued orders for large quantities of 4 x 2 vehicles and also told Bedford to proceed with a prototype 4x4 3-ton general-service truck. In October 1939 a specification was approved, and on 1 February 1940 the first prototype was completed and was out on road tests. Within a month two more had joined it for extensive factory and military tests. The usual army tests were completed and the fitments for special tools installed, and drivers began training to operate this new truck. It had taken one year exactly from the first prototype to the first production vehicles, a commendable feat in a time of great stress and shortages. The Bedford QL was designed to use its four-wheel drive on rough terrain, but could disengage the front drive for use on hard roads to ease the wear on tires and gearbox, the change being effected by moving a lever on the secondary gearbox. Another feather in Bedford's cap (and a surprise one) was the lack of normal teething troubles during the QL's early use. It was only after about one year in service that the first sign of trouble occurred, and a rather peculiar one at that: a tendency for the vehicle to shudder when the brakes were applied slightly. These reports were followed up immediately, and it was found that only a small proportion of vehicles were showing this fault. After some time spent on investigation the fault was found to be simple, and the deep-treaded cross-country tires were replaced by normal road tires, whereupon the problem ceased.

The first production vehicle was the steel-bodied OLD issued to units of the Army Service Corps as a general carrier. From this model stemmed many variants, including the QLT 3-ton troop carrier with a modified and lengthened chassis to accommodate the extra long body to carry 29 troops and kit. The QLT was popularly known as the 'Drooper'. The QLR wireless house type was used by all arms of the signals. The truck featured an auxiliary generator, and other variants on this house type body were command, cipher office and mobile terminal carrier vehicles. A special requirement for use in the Western Desert was a 6-pdr portée, a vehicle designed to transport and fire a 6-pdr anti-tank gun from the body. It was necessary to modify the cab by cutting off the upper half and fitting a canvas top, and when this type became redundant the surviving vehicles were converted back to general-service types after being rebodied, The RAF was a major operator of, the Bedford QL, many being used as fuel tankers with swinging booms to refuel aircraft. Two experimental vehicles that never progressed beyond the prototype stage were the Giraffe and Bren. The Giraffe was designed for amphibious landings: all the major components were raised (along with the cab) on a special frame for deep wading. When fully elevated the vehicle's automotive parts were raised 2.13 m (7 ft) and the driver 3.05m (10ft). The vehicle was approved for production in the event that the waterproofing system then in use failed. The Bren was developed by the Ministry of Supply by taking a standard Bedford QLD and replacing the rear wheels with components from the Bren Gun Carrier, thus creating a halftrack. The aim of this scheme was to reduce rubber wear. The vehicle was considered adequate during tests, but the shortage of rubber did not materialize and the project was dropped.

To meet her urgent need for motor transport the UK turned to the Commonwealth for a degree of support, the major supplier to the UK from the Commonwealth being Canada. Canada herself, once on a war footing, had urgent need to supply her own armies with equipment as every transport vehicle then in service was of civil origin. During early 1937 Ford of Canada had been approached to produce 15-cwt trucks based on similar lines to those of British design. General Motors of Canada also participated. Ford's experimental vehicle was produced in no great haste at the Windsor plant, the pilot model being built up around a Ford V-8 chassis with wheels and tyres imported from England. When completed in 1937 the vehicle was tested at the then small army testing ground at Camp Petawawa, near Ottawa. On arrival it was discovered that the specification had changed to a four-wheel drive application. Nevertheless, the type gave a good account of itself, and the Canadian Military Pattern Chassis formed the basis of many 15-cwt and 8-cwt trucks. During early 1940 the standard pattern of Canadian truck began to emerge with four-wheel drive, and in July of 1940, after Dunkirk, the UK placed a preliminary order for 7,000 vehicles. By 1941 Canada was the Empire's main supplier of light and medium trucks.

Standardization was again of the utmost importance within a range of trucks including 8-cwt, 15- cwt, 30-cwt and 3-ton 4x4, 3-ton 6x4 and 3-ton 6x6 vehicles. Various Canadian cabs were produced through the different stages of development: the number 11 cab was identifiable by the radiator externally mounted to the bonnet; the number 12 cab had the radiator mounted inside the bonnet; the number 13 cab was a complete revision in design to allow more cab interior space and better placing of the foot pedals, and also had a forward sloping windscreen; and the number 43 was basically a number 13 with a soft top.

The 3-ton 4x4 became the mainstay of Canadian production, and was a reliable vehicle produced by both Ford and Chevrolet. The body variations were enormous and can only be touched briefly within this text. All models were produced in the general service role, some with timber and some with all-pressed-steel bodies, and other types included water and petrol tankers, mobile gun carriages, wireless house bodies, machinery vehicles (various types from 15-cwt mounted welding units to 6x6 fully - equipped workshops), office bodies, ambulances and other medical requirement vehicles, and breakdown and recovery vehicles. Canada also supplied many conventional types from all the large manufacturers, fitted with military tires/wheels and bodies. Over 900,000 Canadian vehicles were produced within the five-year period. The Australian commitment was not on so grand a scale, the majority of production trucks being in the light range. Most of the medium to heavy trucks were supplied in kit or chassis and cab form, usually from Canada, to which locally-built bodies were added. Some of the conventional trucks supplied were used in halftrack conversions, but this never progressed beyond the experimental stage. All Canadian Fords were reassembled at the Ford subsidiary plant at Geelong, in Victoria State some 48 km (30 miles) west of Melbourne.

The AEC Matador 4x4 tractor first appeared in 1939, and was built to a War Office specification to tow 4.5-in (114-mm), 5.5-m (140-mm) and 6-in (152-mm) howitzers. The requirement was for a four-wheel tractor with seating for the crew and ammunition stowage. The early production vehicles had a cab roof of different shape to that of later production trucks, the latter having a circular hatch for air observation; when not in use this was covered by a small canvas sheet. The basic design of the cab was very simple and robust, being built on a wooden frame with steel sheets. The body was of conventional timber construction with a drop tailboard and a side door for use by the gun crew. Special runners were fitted to the floor to allow shells to be moved to the rear tailgate for unloading. The Matador was powered by a 6-cylinder 7.58-litre AEC engine producing 71 kW (95 bhp), allowing a top speed of 58 km/h (36 mph). For pulling purposes (for example extracting guns from mud) a 7-ton winch was fitted with 76 m (250 ft) of wire rope. The Matador was used in most theatres of the war. In the desert it proved to be extremely popular with the gun crews for its reliability, and photographic evidence shows that some had the tops of the cabs cut down to door level. Matadors were also pressed into service in the desert to tow transporter trailers because of the lack of proper tractors for this purpose. Total production of Matadors was 8,612. The RAF was also a major user of this vehicle, 400 being supplied in various offerings. The General Load Carrier had a special all-steel body with drop down sides and tailgate to facilitate easy loading, and the support posts could also be removed, Special flat platform trucks were also supplied to transport heavy equipment such as dumpers and compressors. An armoured command post was also built on this chassis, called the Dorchester, in which accommodation was provided internally for high- or low-powered radio transmitting and receiving equipment, and an external penthouse could be erected. As these vehicles were considered prime targets they were carefully disguised to look like general-service trucks. Approximately 175 Matadors were built in 1942 as self-propelled gun carriages and comprised a 6-pdr anti-tank gun mounted in an armoured box. The cab and body were also armoured. Other variants included power equipment 20 kVA, power equipment 50 kVA, air-traffic control, and an experimental 25-pdr portée.

The last did not progress beyond the prototype stage. The last of the Matadors were auctioned off in the mid-1970s, this late disposal date proving the sound strength and reliability of these trucks.

Designed as a heavy load carrier, the Leyland Hippo 6x4 10-ton truck entered military service in 1944 and eventually proved its worth hauling supplies during the closing stages of the Allied advance across North West Europe. The huge bodies on these trucks had a well-type floor incorporating the wheel arches, this giving a lower loading height, an important element in the war days as fork-lift trucks were few and much loading was accomplished by hand. Steel hoops and a canvas tilt gave weather protection to the stores carried. The Hippo Mk 1 initial version was based on a pre-war commercial type with an open cab with canvas tilt and fixed windscreen, while the Hippo Mk 2 had an all-steel cab. The Hippo Mk 2 had single rear wheels, whilst the Hippo Mk 2A had dual wheels fitted with 10- 50-22 tires. The difficulty experienced with the Mk 2A was the need to carry two spare wheels, one for the front and one for the rear. It is perhaps quite amazing to see these trucks still in service in the 1980s. Besides the general service vehicle, many were fitted with large van type bodies, and several expandable body types were built, albeit of similar design. The side panels were split horizontally, the upper half being raised to form extra roof area and the lower half forming extra floor space to provide additional freedom around machinery. The vehicles could also be linked together to form a consolidated workshop area. Van bodies included an auto-processing type for developing photographs, an enlarging and rectifying type for exposing original film onto new film, a printing type with a rotary offset printing machine, and a photo-mechanical type equipped with a rotary offset printer, work tables and plate racks. Entrance to all these bodies was through a single door in the rear. Because of the length of the body, the spare wheel had to be transferred from behind the cab and placed under the rear of the chassis.

A post-war fitting was the adoption of a 9092-litre (2,000-Imp gal) AVTUR refueller body and, with the rear body removed, of a Coles Mk 7 or Neal Type QMC crane.

__________________

Personally on the Redles book I have my doubts about this:

"Very importantly, he maintains that the National Socialist (NS) elite and followers believed in what they said, and not just about Bolsheviks and Jews. Some recent scholars, maybe because of their own cynicism or their reaction to more current leaders, doubt that NS leaders believed their own rhetoric that ultimately allowed for multiple heinous human rights violations."

If the NS leaders did, why did so many change their names and escape abroad after war if they believed what they did and said was right? I have earlier discussed this in a thread and only a couple of top nazis "stood behind theid words and actions" and took their sentence for what they did. Just goes to show that most diehard nazis were just getting the most profit from the system in that matter, I think.

__________________

Hey, I'm only the messenger But I suppose you are right, otherwise what would the justification be for the influx of Aryan or not so Aryan new immigants in South America?

-------------------------------------------------------------

BOOK REVIEW: Tales from Spandau: Nazi Criminals and the Cold War
Norman J. W. Goda. _Tales from Spandau: Nazi Criminals and the Cold War_. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007. xiii + 390 pp.
Photographs, appendix, notes, bibliography, index. $30.00 (cloth), ISBN 978-0-521-86720-7.

Reviewed for H-German by Jay Lockenour, Department of History, Temple University

From Prison to Parking Lot

Norman J. W. Goda artfully situates the story of Spandau prison and its infamous inmates at the intersection of German domestic and Cold War international history. While all other Four-Power institutions crumbled under the weight of the Cold War, Spandau prison and the Berlin Air Safety Center continued to function jointly (p. 7). Keeping Spandau open was, however, a task fraught with political peril.

In their zeal to punish those National Socialist leaders who fell into their hands, the Allies failed to consider the consequences of imprisoning for long periods of time those defendants not executed by the Nuremburg tribunal. Goda is correct when he states that the tribunal's twelve executions were in a sense legitimized by the seven prison terms and three acquittals pronounced on October 1, 1946. The fact that the judges did not simply order the execution of all of the accused, as the Soviet legal team would have preferred, indicated that their deliberations had been authentic and that evidence and guilt had been carefully weighed. However, imprisoning men who were, in most cases, elderly and in every case prominent public figures meant that the Allies would, for the next several decades, struggle with the terms of imprisonment and the fate of the prisoners. As Goda puts it, whereas those executed at Nuremberg rapidly became merely historical figures, those sentenced to prison became political figures and therefore political problems for their jailors.

Each of the four former Allies as well as the West German government had distinct interests in the Spandau prisoners. For the western Allies, Spandau, as one of the few functioning Four-Power institutions, served to legitimate the shared control of Berlin that they deemed vital. For the Soviets, "Nuremberg validated Soviet suffering on an international scale while justifying Soviet foreign policy in Europe and Germany. Its lessons could never be discounted, and its condemned could never legitimately be freed" (p. 18). Soviet warders always tried to make life more difficult for the prisoners. Control of the prison rotated among the four powers and few privileges, meager rations, and the threat of solitary confinement characterized the months when Soviet officials presided.

One of the few weaknesses of the book, for which the author can hardly be blamed, is the dearth of Soviet sources. Like so many Cold War historians, even after the collapse of the Soviet Union, Goda must for the most part infer Soviet intentions from official statements. Whereas in the case of the western Allies, especially the United States, Goda had access to files from the State Department/Foreign Ministry, the Central Intelligence Agency, the Military Government (OMGUS), and other French and British documents, the material on Soviet policy is sparse.
At best, Goda could work from very limited Soviet sources, often available online, which include memoirs, other records of western prison officials who had worked with the Soviets, or from official prison documents, which contained Soviet input. At worst, he has to intuit Soviet motives, as when he sensibly concludes that the Soviet obsession with the caloric intake of the prisoners, at the height of the Berlin Blockade crisis no less, "reveals the implicit Soviet belief that they could make Four-Power trusteeship over the prison unbearable for the Allies" (p. 73). Soviet policy regarding Spandau, for Goda, seems suspended precariously between the Soviets' desire to push the western Allies out of West Berlin altogether and their wish to ensure that the inmates served the maximum sentence in the maximum amount of discomfort.

In all other respects, the work is richly and densely documented. Goda impresses with an eye for detail. He lucidly describes torturous negotiations over prison regulations. Goda weaves the actions of diplomats, doctors, prisoners, their families, and guards into a story that is part Cold War politics and part the memory and legacy of Nazism.

Equally commendable is Goda's ability to write objectively about the conditions at the prison and the degree to which the inmates were pawns of both domestic and foreign relations without ever lapsing into sympathy for justifiably condemned men. Lengthy chapters demolish Albert Speer and Rudolf Hess, respectively. Speer's lies have long been exposed, thanks to Gitta Sereny's work, upon which Goda expands brilliantly. Goda relies heavily on the correspondence of Rudolf Wolters, a long-time friend and associate, to illuminate Speer's continual and expensive efforts to escape the punishment that he publicly claimed to deserve. Goda writes of the many former associates and businessmen who worked unsuccessfully for Speer's release that "today one can only be satisfied that they wasted so much of their time and money, in effect serving part of Speer's sentence with him" (p. 220).

That Hess remained devoted to Adolf Hitler throughout his long imprisonment surprises no one, but Goda reveals the degree to which Hess clung to Nazi ideals. He shows the elderly, increasingly infirm Hess, serving the final twenty years of his sentence alone in the huge Spandau complex, no mercy. Nor was any deserved. Hess had narrowly escaped the hangman's noose in 1946 in part because the British judge did not allow him to read his final hate-filled statement at Nuremberg. He remained a magnet for a small but radical far-right following. Before his suicide, Hess attempted to have smuggled out of Spandau a final political testament, based on his proposed Nuremberg statement, which (among other pernicious statements) blamed a Jewish conspiracy for the start of war in 1939. However tragic the pose that the aged Hess struck, he deserved to remain in prison.

Konstantin von Neurath receives significant attention because he was the first inmate to exhibit serious health problems and because his powerful connections in West Germany and abroad gave his condition a high profile. Admirals Erich Raeder and Karl Dönitz share a chapter and are examined in light of their connection to veterans' organizations and the larger rearmament debate in Germany in the 1950s. The unrepentant Dönitz in particular endures salvo after salvo from Goda's main guns. Goda weaves in a scathing critique of the admirals' memoirs with material from his excellent article on Hitler's bribery of senior military leaders to bolster his indictment.[1]

After Hess's 1987 suicide, Spandau prison was demolished and literally buried, at Gatow Air Base, to prevent its rubble from attracting souvenir hunters. The British built a shopping center for their troops that was later turned over to the Germans. In that sense, Spandau prison is gone and the building and its inmates are now historical, rather than political, figures. But for Goda, the lesson of Spandau remains important for the fragile structure of international justice now in place: "In accepting the responsibility to punish notorious international criminals, the international community accepts a task of unknown proportions and unknown length especially since evidence against the accused becomes minimized over time by political advocates" (p. 277). Costs like those the Allies paid, especially in political terms, to imprison seven infamous men must be "accepted with open eyes" (p.277).

Note

[1]. Norman J. W. Goda, "Black Marks: Hitler's Bribery of His Senior Officers during World War II," _Journal of Modern History_ 72 (2000), 413-452.

__________________

BOOK REVIEW: Battle for the Ruhr: The German Army's Defeat in the West
Derek S. Zumbro. _Battle for the Ruhr: The German Army's Defeat in the West_. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2006. viii + 447 pp.
Illustrations, maps, notes, bibliography, index. $34.95 (cloth), ISBN 978-0-7006-1490-5.

Reviewed for H-German by Lee Baker, Department of History, University of Cincinnati, Raymond Walters College

A Better Way to Write Military History?

This volume is an important contribution to our understanding of the end of the Second World War and provides a more complete picture of the battle for the Ruhr than has previously been offered. Military historians must analyze two very separate and different levels of agency: that of the political and military leadership, its goals, and the plans by which they hope to achieve them; and the goals and plans of the everyday people assigned to carry out the plans of those in command.
This book embodies the best traditions of relatively recent trends in military history which examine conflict from _below_, rather than using older methods, which have tended to focus on the political, social, and economic aspects of warfare only at the highest levels of government and military decision-making. Very fine studies have been published on the macro-historical level, but the goals and actions of the people at the lower level have, in many ways, been ignored or downplayed except in unit histories and the obscure works of antiquarians. No one doubts that the work of political and military leaders is crucial in an armed struggle, but what about the soldiers who march regardless of the weather, eat barely edible food, sleep only in fits and starts, and perhaps suffer grievous wounds or even death? What role does the struggle of men in combat play in fulfilling the carefully made plans of their superiors? Do the lower ranks play any role at all except as mere cogs in the machinery? More recent histories of armed conflict include the experiences of average soldiers and their impact on the achievement of larger goals.

In this case the author looks at the battle of the Ruhr pocket, which took place in March and April 1945 and destroyed the last major German army group remaining in the western European theater. Traditional histories of major campaigns, which focus on large-scale unit movements and strategic viewpoints as opposed to tactical or local ones, allow historians not to mention any of the actors except high-ranking military or political officials. They also omit more than general discussion of the dozens of smaller engagements which together form the larger battle.
The human element is erased from combat; generals make plans and units either carry them out or fail to do so. Derek S. Zumbro's book, in contrast, effectively blends decisions made at the highest levels with their execution at the lowest levels. We see what Adolf Hitler, for example, desired from operations by the Ruhr army group and then see how the lower ranks fulfilled, or failed to fulfill, his wishes. The result is to reinsert human contingency into battle, to remind us that battle plans do not succeed, or fail, on the map table but in the field, and to show that the most fruitful task of military historians is to analyze how and why failure happens by utilizing evidence from all sources, including the testimony of soldiers actually present.

The western Allies envisioned the battle for the Ruhr as a double envelopment. Armored pincers were ordered to cross the Rhine above and below Army Group B and advance to a common position far behind the German lines, thus encircling the Army Group, led by Field Marshal Walter Model. One pincer started from the south in the general area of Remagen, while that in the north was launched somewhat later from the area around Wesel. The two pincers drove east until they linked up around Lippstadt and Paderborn, about one hundred miles behind German lines. Traditional histories recount how the armies carried out their tasks and the difficulties they faced, but these accounts omit information about the travails of the platoons, companies, squads, and individuals whose job it was to carry out the operation. Only in special cases, such as the famous seizure of the Remagen bridge, has analysis dropped its gaze to the level of fighting men.

Zumbro begins by examining high-level decision-making, but then looks at units charged with executing them. As the planning proceeds he looks further down the chain to the command units responsible for carrying out the missions until he eventually comes to the individual combatants. We therefore see not only Hitler and the supreme command formulating plans, but also Model and the corps commanders interpreting them, and finally privates and sergeants carrying them out to the best of their ability.
The result of this multi-level approach is a very complete picture of the action discussed. The best known engagement of this battle is probably that for Ludendorff Bridge at Remagen. This railroad bridge crossed the Rhine at a convenient spot for the Americans. Hitler demanded that all such bridges be destroyed once their usefulness to the German army had passed; to accomplish this task, Army Group B assigned the defense of the Rhine bridges to a general whose staff apportioned the various bridges to defense groups. The men responsible for Ludendorff Bridge ran into difficulties from the very beginning, not least because the defense force, led by a captain, consisted of a small number of convalescent soldiers. From the German point of view, Remagen is a fascinating story of missed opportunities, lack of resources, and the personal stories of the men, whose rather simple job was to prevent the American forces from crossing the river by blowing up the bridge.
The German captain ended the defense of the bridge when his men, who had made a serious tactical blunder by retreating into the railroad tunnel that connected the bridge to the east side of the river, found themselves under intense pressure from the Americans. The capture of the bridge highlights the disintegration of the German army by examining its efforts from the highest to the lowest level. This book shows the reader in graphic terms that the major factor in the disintegration of the German army in the west was an almost complete lack of resources necessary for the creation of an effective barrier to the approaching Allies, a problem compounded as the Germans recognized the situation and abandoned the fight.

Despite the strengths of the narrative, the volume does reveal a serious problem in its maps: the two included fail to serve as guides to the engagements described in the text. The flow of the battles fought for the myriad of small towns and villages mentioned throughout the text, which is the essence of the book, is thus lost in the shuffle. The function of maps that fail to pinpoint unfamiliar locations described in the text is unclear.

The bulk of the book consists of explanations of small actions and encounters between German troops, citizens, and American soldiers. While Zumbro's account succeeds admirably in meeting its goals of presenting the German defeat from the perspective of the defeated, just as importantly, it serves as a model for reconstructing a major battle through examination of its smaller engagements. Heroism, cowardice, brilliance, and stupidity on the part of individual men determined, in conjunction with the resources allocated to them, the success or failure of missions deemed important by those higher up the ladder. Zumbro does a wonderful job of putting all these isolated events into a broader context. The book would be very useful in a graduate seminar on military history as a model, but its wealth of information might prove too distracting for most undergraduates. In sum, anyone interested in understanding how large battles unfold will profit from reading this book.

__________________

BOOK REVIEW: Numbered Days: Diaries and the Holocaust
Alexandra Garbarini. _Numbered Days: Diaries and the Holocaust_. New
Haven: Yale University Press, 2006. xvi + 262 pp. Notes, bibliography, index. $45.00 (cloth), ISBN 978-0-300-11252-8.

Reviewed for H-German by Samuel Huston Goodfellow, Department of History, Westminster College

Making Meaning against All Odds: Jewish Diarists during the Holocaust

Our understanding of the Holocaust is surprisingly incomplete in providing direct access to what Jews thought and how they reacted at the time. Students of the period can only imagine what it might be like to face, in full awareness, not just one's own death, but collective genocide. In the popular imagination, Jews seemed to march like somnambulists to their fates. The apparent passivity of Jews has been, to some extent, magnified by post facto accounts, which, with notable exceptions such as Primo Levi, dwell on what happened to Jews rather than on what Jews did. The diary of Anne Frank, as edited by her father, partially filled the gap. More recently, Viktor Klemperer's diary presented a more mature and nuanced personal reaction to his own experiences. The views of a few idiosyncratic individuals, however perspicacious, do not, of course, do full justice to the variety of Jewish responses and their attempt to make meaning out of their circumstances.

Alexandra Garbarini's thoughtful book addresses this deficiency by analyzing unpublished Jewish diaries from the war, of which there are hundreds, with a view towards identifying the themes, trends, and variety of matters expressed by the diarists. The book is not based on memoirs or subsequent oral testimonies, but on diaries, which constitute a reservoir of unreified expressions of Jewish experience. Oral testimonies and memoirs do not bear witness to the subtle changes in emotional perception that occur as events unfold as well as diaries.
Oral histories are also shaped by subsequent information, narratives, and the biases of prevailing discourse. The diaries reveal an immense variety of personalities and individual situations. The contribution of this book, however, lies in its exploration of the themes and trends evident across this broad collection of diaries.

Garbarini turns first to examining the question of Jewish identity and religion in the face of the Holocaust. The scope of the catastrophe placed considerable stress on individual Jews' pre-existing belief systems. Garbarini analyzes the diaries of two Jews, Chaim Kaplan from Poland and Lucien Dreyfus from Alsace, to illustrate how "neither was able to retain his prior conception of God and humanity" (p. 19).

Originally devout, Kaplan was led by his experiences in Warsaw to a bitter sense that God had deserted the Jews. At the other end of the spectrum, the secular schoolteacher Dreyfus began to reject his lifelong belief that western civilization was progressive, embracing instead the notion that God, not man, was the only hope for humanity. For both these men, the Holocaust was an affront to the principles that had guided their lives. Like many Jews during the first two years of the war, they were forced to reassess their core beliefs and redefine themselves as Jews. Significantly, both still held out hope. The Nazis forced Jews to examine their connection to Judaism by asserting a comprehensive, albeit flawed, definition of Jewishness and then assigning it an outcome--extermination. Some Jews, such as Viktor Klemperer, insisted that they were not Jewish. Others found the prevailing distinctions within the Jewish community, whether Orthodox, Hasidic, Reform, Zionist, or non-practicing reduced to useless quibbles in the face of a collective disaster. Jews had to remind themselves who they were, and to reassess, reject, or reaffirm their identity.

During the early part of the war, diarists exhaustively pored over news of hope and direction. Even when, against all odds, Jews were able to overhear a radio broadcast or read a paper, they had to read between the lines. News became a social commodity that brought Jews together in discussion, hope, or despair. As the extermination process accelerated, however, news became irrelevant in the face of widespread awareness that even if the Allies won, it might be too late. Garbarini describes a dynamic of awareness, first in the form of "hopeful reading" and then of despair. After 1943, the volume of diaries drops off, partly because many of the writers were dead, but also because many could no longer find a reason to write.

Throughout the book, Garbarini is concerned with the peculiar properties of diaries and how to interpret them. What do they tell us? Who was the audience? What form of literature are they? How accurate are they? For many of those writing during the Holocaust, diary writing took on a different character from the ordinary recitation of daily events. In many cases the diarists were not writing for themselves, but for others.
Separated from their families and unable to correspond directly with relatives, many simply substituted a diary for letters, informing them of what was happening and exhorting their exiled kin to make the most of their opportunities. Still others wrote in the painful knowledge that they would probably not be alive to tell the story, so the diary served as a record for posterity. At times, these diarists would despair that even if their words somehow survived, nobody would believe them. A few wrote as a release, hoping that recording their emotions would help them cope. For many diarists, personal reflections were an expression of hope, either for relatives or, in a more limited way, for themselves.

What distinguishes this book is the way that it moves past the view of Jews as victims or objects and develops their identity as "meaning makers" (p. 163). The fact that about six million Jews died during the Holocaust tends to act as a monolithic wall separating us from those who experienced it. European Jews were not simply acted upon and they were not a faceless multitude; each individual, in his or her own way, struggled to maintain hope, reassess personal identity, and inform future generations.

__________________