Decline
摘要
As late as the autumn of 1942, it seemed that no one and nothing, except nature, could stop the German war machine. In August and September 1940, despite poetic phrases about the few to whom so many were supposed to owe so much, Britain’s most important defender had traditionally proved to be the sea. When German divisions stood at the gates of Moscow a year later, they were stopped more by space and weather than by the courage of Soviet soldiers and the prudence of their commanders. In other battles and campaigns of the first period of the Second World War, the initiative belonged to the Third Reich, and its armed forces exploited this advantage extremely effectively. Not even the entry of the United States into the war changed this picture; the mobilization of its industry and armies took time, and the U-Boats took care to make the route of the first units transferred to Europe as risky as possible. This picture of war changed dramatically in just a few months in late 1942 and early 1943. At the end of October 1942, Rommel’s divisions stood at El Alamein, threatening to take Alexandria, Cairo and continue towards Palestine, Syria, Iraq and Iran. At the same time, the German flag was fluttering over the summit of Elbrus in the Caucasus, and Wehrmacht divisions appeared to have cleared Stalingrad of its last defenders, disrupting the artery of the Volga. Contact between the northern arm of the pincers, coming from the Volga steppe through the Caucasus, and the southern arm, led by Rommel, would have meant the loss of the Middle East with its fuel reserves, a threat to India, and the relegation of Russia to a passive role in the war due to fuel shortages. But by early November, the defeated remnants of Rommel’s German-Italian forces were fleeing across the desert to the west. General Paulus commanding the German 6th Army had failed to stop the strategically pointless fighting to capture the ruins of Stalingrad. Within weeks or so, this was to be revenged on himself and his troops. After the ordeal of the winter siege, the 6th Army had to capitulate. If Dönitz was convinced that his U-boats ruled the Atlantic, the unhindered passage directly from US ports of an invasion fleet carrying divisions, which landed in North Africa on 8 November 1942, must have been a serious warning. He managed to mobilize his fleet for the winter campaign of 1942/43, inflicting heavy losses on the Allies, but from March 1943, luck began to turn against the ‘grey wolves’, and in May their commander had to withdraw ships to bases or calmer waters. In Africa, Rommel had to watch in amazement as Hitler, hitherto skimping on his every tank and soldier, generously threw divisions across the sea after the Allied landings in Morocco and Algeria, which only a few months ago would have guaranteed victory. Now, with the German-Italian forces in Africa caught in the pincers between the 8th Army pressing from the east and the British-American troops coming from Algiers, it was clear that the campaign was lost and every division thrown into its cauldron was sacrificed without justification. Whoever looked at the situation maps in the German staffs could harbor no illusions: in less than six months, on all fronts, the initiative had passed into the hands of the Allies, and the forces of the Third Reich had been pushed onto the strategic defensive.