“Why do people have a fixation with the German military when they haven’t won a war since 1871?” -- Tom Clancy

I’ve always been interested in the German military, especially the Wehrmacht of World War II. As a young boy, I recall building many models, not just German Panther and Tiger tanks, but famous Luftwaffe planes as well. True, I built American tanks and planes, Shermans and Thunderbolts and Mustangs, but the German models always seemed “cooler,” a little more exotic, a little more predatory. And the German military, to my adolescent imagination, seemed admirably tough and aggressive: hard-fighting, thoroughly professional, hanging on against long odds, especially against the same hordes of “godless communists” that I knew we Americans were then facing down in the Cold War.

Later, of course, a little knowledge about the nightmare of Nazism and the Holocaust went a long way toward destroying my admiration for the Wehrmacht, but -- to be completely honest -- a residue of grudging respect still survives: I no longer have my models, but I still have many of the Ballantine illustrated war books I bought as a young boy for a buck or two, and which often celebrated the achievements of the German military, with titles like Panzer Division, or Afrika Korps, or even Waffen SS.

As the Bible says, we are meant to put aside childish things as we grow to adulthood, and an uninformed fascination with the militaria and regalia of the Third Reich was certainly one of these. But when I entered Air Force ROTC in 1981, and later on active duty in 1985, I was surprised, even pleased, to discover that so many members of the U.S. military shared my interest in the German military. To cite just one example, as a cadet at Field Training in 1983 (and later at Squadron Officer School in 1992), I participated in what was known as “Project X.” As cadets, we came to know of it in whispers: “Tomorrow we’re doing ‘Project X’: It’s really tough …”

A problem-solving leadership exercise, Project X consisted of several scenarios and associated tasks. Working in small groups, you were expected to solve these while working against the clock. What made the project exciting and more than busy-work, like the endless marching or shining of shoes or waxing of floors, was that it was based on German methods of developing and instilling small-unit leadership, teamwork, and adaptability. If it worked for the Germans, the “finest soldiers in the world” during World War II, it was good enough for us, or so most of us concluded (including me).

Project X was just one rather routine manifestation of the American military’s fascination with German methods and the German military mystique. As I began teaching military history to cadets at the Air Force Academy in 1990, I quickly became familiar with a flourishing “Cult of Clausewitz.” So ubiquitous was Carl von Clausewitz and his book On War that it seemed as if we Americans had never produced our own military theorists. I grew familiar with the way Auftragstaktik (the idea of maximizing flexibility and initiative at the lowest tactical levels) was regularly extolled. So prevalent did Clausewitz and Auftragstaktik become that, in the 1980s and 1990s, American military thinking seemed reducible to the idea that “war is a continuation of politics” and a belief that victory went to the side that empowered its “strategic corporals.”

War as a Creative Act

The American military’s fascination with German military methods and modes of thinking raises many questions. In retrospect, what disturbs me most is that the military swallowed the Clausewitzian/German notion of war as a dialectical or creative art, one in which well-trained and highly-motivated leaders can impose their will on events.

In this notional construct, war became not destructive, but constructive. It became not the last resort of kings, but the preferred recourse of “creative” warlords who demonstrated their mastery of it by cultivating such qualities as flexibility, adaptability, and quickness. One aimed to get inside the enemy’s “decision cycle,” the so-called OODA loop -- the Air Force’s version of Auftragstaktik -- while at the same time cultivating a “warrior ethos” within a tight-knit professional army that was to stand above, and also separate from, ordinary citizens.

This idolization of the German military was a telling manifestation of a growing militarism within an American society which remained remarkably oblivious to the slow strangulation of its citizen-soldier ideal. At the same time, the American military began to glorify a new generation of warrior-leaders by a selective reading of its past. Old “Blood and Guts” himself, the warrior-leader George S. Patton -- the commander as artist-creator-genius -- was celebrated; Omar N. Bradley -- the bespectacled GI general and reluctant soldier-citizen -- was neglected. Not coincidentally, a new vision of the battlefield emerged in which the U.S. military aimed, without the slightest sense of irony, for “total situational awareness” and “full spectrum dominance,” goals that, if attained, promised commanders the almost god-like ability to master the “storm of steel,” to calm the waves, to command the air.

In the process, any sense of war as thoroughly unpredictable and enormously wasteful was lost. In this infatuation with German military prowess, which the political scientist John Mearsheimer memorably described as “Wehrmacht penis envy,” we celebrated our ability to Blitzkrieg our enemies -- which promised rapid, decisive victories that would be largely bloodless (at least for us). In 1991, a decisively quick victory in the Desert Storm campaign of the first Gulf War was the proof, or so it seemed then, that a successful “revolution in military affairs,” or RMA in military parlance, was underway.

Forgotten, however, was this: the German Blitzkrieg of World War II ended with Germany’s “third empire” thoroughly thrashed by opponents who continued to fight even when the odds seemed longest.

What a remarkable, not to say bizarre, turnabout! The army and country the U.S. had soundly beaten in two world wars (with a lot of help from allies, including, of course, those godless communists of the Soviet Union in the second one) had become a beacon for the U.S. military after Vietnam. To use a sports analogy, it was as if a Major League Baseball franchise, in seeking to win the World Series, decided to model itself not on the New York Yankees but rather on the Chicago Cubs.

The New Masters of Blitzkrieg

Busts of Clausewitz reside in places of honor today at both the Army War College at Carlisle Barracks, Pennsylvania, and the National War College in Washington, D.C. Clausewitz was a complex writer, and his vision of war was both dense and rich, defying easy simplification. But that hasn’t stopped the U.S. military from simplifying him. Ask the average officer about Clausewitz, and he’ll mention “war as the continuation of politics” and maybe something about “the fog and friction of war” -- and that’s about it. What’s really meant by this rendition of Clausewitz for Dummies is that, though warfare may seem extreme, it’s really a perfectly sensible form of violent political discourse between nation-states.

Such an officer may grudgingly admit that, thanks to fog and friction, “no plan survives contact with the enemy.” What he’s secretly thinking, however, is that it won’t matter at all, not given the U.S. military’s “mastery” of Auftragstaktik, achieved in part through next-generation weaponry that provides both “total situational awareness” and a decisive, war-winning edge.

No wonder that George W. Bush, Dick Cheney, and Donald Rumsfeld were so eager to go to war in Iraq in 2003. They saw themselves as the new masters of Blitzkrieg, the new warlords (or “Vulcans” to use a term popular back then), the inheritors of the best methods of German military efficiency.

This belief, this faith, in German-style total victory through relentless military proficiency is best captured in Max Boot’s gushing tribute to the U.S. military, published soon after Bush’s self-congratulatory and self-adulatory “Mission Accomplished” speech in May 2003. For Boot, America’s victory in Iraq had to “rank as one of the signal achievements in military history.” In his words:

"Previously, the gold standard of operational excellence had been the German blitzkrieg through the Low Countries and France in 1940. The Germans managed to conquer France, the Netherlands, and Belgium in just 44 days, at a cost of ‘only’ 27,000 dead soldiers. The United States and Britain took just 26 days to conquer Iraq (a country 80 percent of the size of France), at a cost of 161 dead, making fabled generals such as Erwin Rommel and Heinz Guderian seem positively incompetent by comparison.”

How likely is it that future military historians will celebrate General Tommy Franks and elevate him above the “incompetent” Rommel and Guderian? Such praise, even then, was more than fatuous. It was absurd.

Throughout our history, many Americans, especially frontline combat veterans, have known the hell of real war. It’s one big reason why, historically speaking, we’ve traditionally been reluctant to keep a large standing military. But the Cold War, containment, and our own fetishizing of the German Wehrmacht changed everything. We began to see war not as a human-made disaster but as a creative science and art. We began to seek “force multipliers” and total victory achieved through an almost Prussian mania for military excellence.

Reeling from a seemingly inexplicable and unimaginable defeat in Vietnam, the officer corps used Clausewitz to crawl out of its collective fog. By reading him selectively and reaffirming our own faith in military professionalism and precision weaponry, we tricked ourselves into believing that we had attained mastery over warfare. We believed we had tamed the dogs of war; we believed we had conquered Bellona, that we could make the goddess of war do our bidding.

We forgot that Clausewitz compared war not only to politics but to a game of cards. Call it the ultimate high-stakes poker match. Even the player with the best cards, the highest stack of chips, doesn’t always win. Guile and endurance matter. So too does nerve, even luck. And having a home-table advantage doesn’t hurt either.

None of that seemed to matter to a U.S. military that aped the German military, while over-hyping its abilities and successes. The result? A so-called “new American way of war” that was simply a desiccated version of the old German one, which had produced nothing but catastrophic defeat for Germany in both 1918 and 1945 -- and disaster for Europe as well.

Just Ask the Germans

Precisely because that disaster did not befall us, precisely because we emerged triumphant from two world wars, we became both too enamored with the decisiveness of war, and too dismissive of our own unique strength. For our strength was not military élan or cutting-edge weaponry or tactical finesse (these were German “strengths”), but rather the dedication, the generosity, even the occasional ineptitude, of our citizen-soldiers. Their spirit was unbreakable precisely because they -- a truly democratic citizen army -- were dedicated to defeating a repellently evil empire that reveled fanatically in its own combat vigor.

Looking back on my youthful infatuation with the German Wehrmacht, I recognize a boy’s misguided enthusiasm for military hardness and toughness. I recognize as well the seductiveness of reducing the chaos of war to “shock and awe” Blitzkrieg and warrior empowerment. What amazes me, however, is how this astonishingly selective and adolescent view of war -- with its fetish for lightning results, achieved by elevating and empowering a new generation of warlords, warriors, and advanced weaponry -- came to dominate mainstream American military thinking after the frustrations of Vietnam.

Unlike a devastated and demoralized Germany after its defeats, we decided not to devalue war as an instrument of policy after our defeat, but rather to embrace it. Clasping Clausewitz to our collective breasts, we marched forward seeking new decisive victories. Yet, like our role models the Germans of World War II, we found victory to be both elusive and illusive.

So, I have a message for my younger self: put aside those menacing models of German tanks and planes. Forget those glowing accounts of Rommel and his Afrika Korps. Dismiss Blitzkrieg from your childish mind. There is no lightning war, America. There never was. And if you won’t take my word for it, just ask the Germans.

William J. Astore (wastore@pct.edu), a retired lieutenant colonel (USAF) and TomDispatch regular, teaches history at the Pennsylvania College of Technology. To catch him in a Timothy MacBain TomCast audio interview discussing the U.S. military's fascination with the Wehrmacht, click here.

2010 William J. Astore

Specialized soldiers operating with the German army in France in World War I.

World War I in France was fought in what was certainly the most futile way possible. The Industrial Revolution had produced weapons of mass destruction like the ma- chine gun, tank, and poison gas, yet the generals throughout most of the war sent their troops into combat in the same fashion in which soldiers had attacked for more than 100 years: mass infantry assaults with soldiers rushing forward line abreast over open ground. The trench system that was developed soon after the war started made such attacks suicide, yet the generals continued to send their men forward like this from 1914 through 1918. The “no man’s land” between the trenches became a killing ground, while the trenches them- selves became underground living quarters that only occasionally were lost or gained by combat. The only change in tactics was to precede each assault with massive amounts of artillery. This, however, gave the defenders plenty of warning as to when and where the infantry assault would be coming. As soon as the artillery stopped, the defenders came out of their under- ground shelters and mowed down the advancing troops. Millions of men died.

In 1918, with the war going badly for them, the Germans developed a new method of fighting in an attempt to break the stalemate of trench warfare. They learned a lesson from the Eastern front, where Russian general Brusilov had surprised an Austrian army after attacking with only minimal artillery fire. The Germans took this idea and honed it into the Sturmtruppen, the Storm Troops. Instead of attacking in mass waves, they reasoned, send in smaller units on the heels of shorter preliminary barrages. Give them objectives to reach behind the enemy lines, which would paralyze communications and reinforcement while sowing seeds of panic. Move quickly and do not worry about rear or flanks, for the main offensive would follow and clear those up. These rubrics did not represent a particularly new concept, for small parties of men had throughout the war infiltrated enemy positions in order to reconnoiter the lines or bring back prisoners. The Storm Troops, however, would do this on a much larger scale, operating from squad- to battalion-sized units.

The effectiveness of this new tactic was enhanced by the talents of two German officers. General Oskar von Hutier, commander of the German Eighteenth Army, had been the man who developed the new tactics and tested them against the Russians on the Eastern front. He commanded the forces that launched the new style of attack against the British in France. The other key figure was Colonel Georg Bruchmuller, who developed a new type of artillery barrage to assist in the Storm Troops’ assaults. Instead of tearing up the ground with large amounts of high explosives, as had been done for the previous three years, he used more poison gas shells. Mustard gas was used on the flank areas of the assault, as its slow diffusion rate would hinder reinforcement from neighboring trench lines. Phosgene gas, which dissipated much more quickly, would be used on the areas of immediate attack to immobilize the troops defending them, as well as into the rear areas to neutralize British artillery positions.

Operation Michael was the code name for the first attempted use of Storm Troops tactics in France on March 21, 1918. It succeeded brilliantly. The British Fifth Army in the region around St. Quentin and Albert was caught unawares and soon fled in panic as Storm Troopers, using hand grenades and flame throwers, captured hundreds of prisoners and quickly made their way to rear areas. Here they found evidence of such hurried withdrawal that mess halls still had food cooking with no one in sight. The Germans fed them- selves and pushed on toward their objectives of road junctions and British artillery positions. By the end of the day they had accomplished what had been dreamed of by every general since the war started: a hole in the enemy’s lines that could be exploited, putting Germans in the Allied rear areas to start the long-hoped-for war of maneuver.

It was fortunate for the British, however, that they had fled so quickly, because the Germans were unable to keep pace. The British managed to establish another defensive position along the Somme River. This is not what stopped the Germans, how- ever. Instead, they succumbed to exhaustion and began looting. The Germans had been on short rations and supplies for some months and, to them, the British rear areas were a paradise of food and equipment. In three days they had created a massive bulge in the Allied lines, capturing more territory in less time with fewer casualties than almost any operation of the war. However, three days of constant moving and fighting had worn the Storm Troops out, and the burden of their accumulated loot further slowed them down. German Commander Field Marshall Ludendorff called the offensive a success and canceled further assaults for the time being.

Ludendorff followed up Operation Michael with Operation Georgette, a similar offensive against the British positions farther north around Armentieres. This was launched on April 9, 1918, and was just as successful for the Germans, although they failed to reach their intended goal of the rail junction at Hazebrouch. Had that fallen, it would have severed the supply line to the British army from the ports along the English Channel. Still, Operation Georgette caused another massive bulge in British lines as they were again mauled and pushed back. Once more, exhaustion on the part of the Storm Troops slowed their advance as time went by.

Buoyed by the huge gains made during these two offensives, Ludendorff prepared for a similar attack to the south in the area called the Chemin des Dames along the Aisne River. It was a quiet sector held by French units and British divisions that had been sent there for rest and refitting. It was more rugged than the area of Operation Michael, so the Germans added some mountain troops to the Storm Troop units. On May 28, 1918, the Germans once again threw the Allies into a panic. The French troops, already demoralized from earlier slaughter, broke and ran. Reinforcements found themselves overwhelmed by the rapid German advance. The Germans captured undamaged virtually every bridge across the Aisne River. The offensive moved inexorably toward Paris as reinforcements were pushed forward. At this point, a new player emerged: the United States. Although America had declared war on Germany more than a year earlier, it was still drafting and training men, most of whom were still at home. Some 120,000 Americans were in France, but they were half-trained and untested. They were also the only troops available. American General John Pershing temporarily lent the American Second, Third, and Forty-second Divisions to the French, and they stemmed the German tide.

From May 30 to June 17, 1918, American marines and infantry halted the Germans, at enormous cost, at Belleau Wood south of Soissons. The German advance stalled at what came to be called the Second Battle of the Marne River, but Ludendorff ordered more men into the push for Paris. Had he followed his original intent and attacked in Flanders far to the north, he may have collapsed the entire Allied line. Instead, the lure of Paris was too great— but the Allies were now reinforced and waiting. This time it was Allied artillery that did the most damage, and the follow- up attacks by American and French troops at Soissons and Chateau-Thierry marked the beginning of the end for the German war effort.

Through the summer and fall of 1918, the Allies pushed a broken and undersupplied German army out of France and to the borders of Germany itself before an armistice was signed in November. The German Storm Troops had succeeded in their tasks, but the introduction of their tactics was a case of too little, too late. The lesson learned by the Storm Troops was not forgotten, however. The Germans between the wars focused on the idea of mission-oriented attacks that did not worry about flanks. The problem of exhaustion was solved by the development between the wars of German armored forces. The theory of quick penetration and disruption of rear areas was reborn in 1939 in Poland with the blitzkrieg that almost took Adolph Hitler’s armies to European domination.

The French, unlike the Prussians, put their trust in technology. The French were convinced that their new .51 calibre Chassepot rifle would win the day. The breech loading Chassepot was superior to the Needle gun in range and accuracy. This was achieved because the breech was sealed with a rubber ring, which dramatically reduced the amount of gas that escaped. They were also placing great stock in what they considered a secret weapon, the mitrailleuse, which was a crank-operated machine-gun. It was so cloaked in secrecy that tactics were not developed for its use. It was in fact used as a substitute for artillery, which was still muzzle loaded. This misapplication of the machine-gun would end as a dismal failure. Unfortunately, the lacklustre performance of the machinegun would cause many to neglect it before the First World War, and a lack of machine-guns would be a handicap at the beginning of the war, specifically for the British. However, it would not be the technological innovations of the Chassepot or the machine-gun that would carry the day: it would be the superior doctrine of the Prussians. Von Moltke used his cavalry as an effective screen to mask the movement of his forces at Gravelotte-St. Privat and Sedan. In both cases, he was able to envelop the French, who were then immediately forced to go on the attack where they were cut down by Prussian defensive firepower.

In two wars against technically more advanced armies, the Prussians demonstrated that it was not technology alone that decided battle but sound doctrine. The key to Prussian doctrine was that, it was based on historical studies that without bias, examined war and technology to come up with lessons. Rather than treating technological innovations as a panacea, their studies recognized the capabilities and limitations of the current technology and came up with doctrine that employed it to its best advantage.

In this time of great change, it was perhaps the Prussian Army that took the most correct approach to evolving technologies. By the 1860s, the Prussian Army had not had much in the way of combat experience since the battle of Waterloo. In fact, prior to the Danish War, the Prussian Army had not been in combat since 1815, and even the war against Denmark was not large enough to expose the bulk of the army to combat. If the Prussian Army was to be effective in this time of dynamic change, it would have to find a way to overcome its limitations caused by a lack of experience.

During the Austro-Prussian War of 1866 and the Franco-Prussian War of 1870, the Prussian Army would demonstrate that they had decisively mastered the new technology that was revolutionizing the conduct of war. The keys to success would not be the introduction of some sort of wonder weapon like the needle gun, but rather their success would lie in the introduction of doctrinal advances, which were introduced by the Prussian General Staff and its Chief Helmuthe von Moltke.

The Prussian Army had a permanent staff system in place since 1790. The Prussian Truppengeneralstab (or General Staff), by 1870, would become the standard to which all other staffs were measured. In the later half of the 19th century, it would prepare the Prussian Army well for the conflicts to come. The Prussian Staff was unique for that time. Unlike other staffs, it was permanent in peacetime and war. Its organization was also unique in that not only did it have an operational focus, but it also had a very professional railway section, which was charged with making plans for the rapid deployment and mobilization of the army in time of war. It also had a Historical Section, which was tasked to study conflicts of the recent past and provide lessons learned for the Prussian Army. In this time of great technological change, it was perhaps this section which would best prepare the Prussian Army, and then the German Army, for wars of the future, from the Franco-Prussian War up to and including the Blitzkrieg of WWII.

From the study of Austria's war with Sardinia and France in 1859, the Prussians learned that reliance on defensive firepower could be countered by the use of mobile hard-hitting assault columns. From the American Civil War, the Prussians learned that war with accurate weapons caused egregious casualties. They were also aware that they could ill afford to conduct attrition warfare on the same scale as the Union Army. The Chief of the Prussian General Staff, Helmuthe von Moltke, had personally observed the devastating effects of defensive firepower during the Danish War at the tactical level. In answer to this, von Moltke came up with the doctrine of “strategic offence” with defence at the “tactical level.”

In 1865 von Moltke wrote: The attack of a position is becoming notably more difficult than its defence. The defensive during the first phase of battle offers a decisive superiority. The task of a skillful offensive will consist of forcing our foe to attack a position chosen by us, and only when casualties, demoralisation, and exhaustion have drained his strength will we ourselves take up the tactical offensive…. Our strategy must be offensive, our tactics defensive.

Prussian doctrine concentrated on advancing to an area that would most threaten the enemy (e.g., a line of communication or a flank). The Prussians would then go on the defensive. The enemy would subsequently be forced to attack in order to break out or maintain its lines of communication. Then, using the accurate firepower of the rifle, the Prussians would bleed the enemy white and continue the advance on the strategic level.

Von Moltke used this doctrine to great effect in 1866 during the Prussian Seven Week’s War with Austria. With the aid of the railway and the telegraph, the Prussian Staff planned and executed a brilliant deployment. As von Moltke was not aware of the Austrians intentions, he deployed his forces on a broad 200-mile front. Von Moltke’s plan was to make contact with the main Austrian Army in order to pin it with one army, so that he could encircle it and crush it with a second army. However, his intentions did not translate well to the lower echelons, and, although he did deliver a crushing blow to the Austrians, the independent actions of some lower commanders prevented the Prussians from completely encircling the Austrians.

The Austrian plan was to use interior lines of communication to concentrate and destroy the Prussian forces piecemeal, in classic Napoleonic form. Benedek, the Austrian commander, decided to make his stand at Sadowa, approximately 10 miles west of the Elbe River, which constituted a major obstacle. The Elbe had one permanent bridge and one pontoon bridge, which was anchored on the fortress city of Koniggratz (from which the battle takes its name). This latter bridge could provide a withdrawal route for the Austrians should it be required. In order to hold this defensive position, Benedek deployed 215 000 infantry and 750 guns.

The Prussian 1st Army made contact with the Austrian position at 0400 hrs on 3 July. The commander of 1st Army had decided to commence his attack at 1000 hrs after his troops had been rested and fed. This was over-ruled by von Moltke. A delay in attacking and fixing the Austrians might allow them to slip away before 2nd Army could encircle them. Von Moltke instead ordered 1st Army to attack immediately. Unfortunately, von Moltke had no way of knowing that the Austrians had no intention of withdrawing; this unprepared attack would play right into their hands. The battle ebbed and flowed and degenerated into a confusing morass as commanders lost control of their troops. For a time, the Prussians thought that the battle was lost, but von Moltke was unshaken. By noon, 2nd Army threatened the Austrian right; the Austrians were forced to mount costly counterattacks against massed rifle fire in order to delay the Prussians long enough to enable a withdrawal across the River Elbe. Shortly after the battle, the Austrians conceded defeat and sued for peace. Von Moltke's doctrine had been a success.

After the war, the Prussians went back to study their own effectiveness to see if there were any lessons to be learned. As a result, they moved their artillery from the rear of its columns to the front and deployed their cavalry well forward to conduct reconnaissance. Within four years, the Prussians would be at war again. This time, with the French.

Intriguing Picture: A good cross-country car was the Horch, shown here in North Africa while its crew inspects a dummy M3 Stuart light tank abandoned by the British in March 1942. It is covered with yellow-sand camouflage paint over the standard dark gray and carries the palm and swastika emblem of the DAK painted above and to the right of the license plate WH 228970. The Horch was produced in many versions of three different models (Kfz.15, 16 and 17) which were heavier and stronger than the Kfz.2 and 4, so they could carry more men and equipment over the same sort of terrain.

Most popular among all the troops was the VW Type 82 Kübelwagen, the best German vehicle of its type because of its cross-country capabilities, speed and manageability. The VW Type 82 was also simple to service and economical to produce, which were just as important as its capabilities. This is a Kübelwagen in North Africa belonging to the 3rd battalion of Art.Rgt.90 of 10.Panzer-Division, identified by the markings visible on its left mudguard. The tactical signs are painted in white while the divisional emblem is yellow, both on the original dark gray paint. The same combination is repeated on the driver's door. The license plate shows a black WH-1377895 painted on a white background with a black border. The Kübelwagen has also been fitted with the desert balloon tires.

A group of Fallschirmjäger from Division Hermann Goring travelling in Tunisia on a captured Canadian made Chevrolet gun tractor marked with a swastika on the radiator to indicate the nationality of its new owners and "W.L." on the bumper for the branch of service. All the soldiers are wearing tropical uniforms with splinter pattern camouflage smocks or zeltbahn shelter quarters over them. Most of them wear the standard M1935 helmet with sand camouflage paint although one has a camouflage cover. The man at the left front has the standard paratroop helmet as well as the man in the center near the rear who also has a camouflage cover as well.

On 12 May the Soviets launched a major offensive designed to retake the city of Kharkov – second city of the Ukraine, fourth largest in the USSR, and an important centre of industry, communications and transport. Unfortunately, the Soviet offensive coincided with German plans for offensive action in the same area preparatory to the launch of Operation Blau. The German 6th Army and 1st Panzer Army were already concentrating and mobilising and were able to mount an effective defence and counter-offensive. Not only did the Russians fail to recapture Kharkov, but the three Soviet armies involved in the operation were encircled by the Germans and largely destroyed. Soviet casualties were nearly 280,000, including 170,000 killed, missing, or captured. Around 650 tanks were lost and nearly 5000 artillery pieces. The battle was over by 28 May. General Ewald von Kleist, commander of 1st Panzer, surveyed the carnage around Kharkov:

‘The fierceness of the fighting is testified by the battlefield: at focal points the ground as far as one can see is so thickly covered with the cadavers of men and horses that it is difficult to find a passage for one’s command car.’ (Boog et al, 2001, p.950)

To an extent the Soviets were unlucky to run into such strong German forces, which just happened to be nearly ready and waiting for them. Moreover, as Geoffrey Jukes has commented (Jukes, 1968, pp.15–16), had Bock launched his attacks in the Kharkov area first then Army Group South might have run unexpectedly into strong Soviet forces and found itself in serious trouble.

But the Soviet disaster at Kharkov also stemmed from Moscow’s own misconceptions and miscalculations. While the Germans were preparing Operation Blau the Soviets were making their own plans. The basic strategic approach of Stalin and the Soviet high command was that for 1942 the Red Army would stay mainly on the defensive. At the same time some localised offensive actions were agreed, the largest of these operations being the one at Kharkov. Stalin certainly favoured this offensive but it seems that the initiative and pressure for action came mainly from Marshal Semyon Timoshenko and other officers of the Red Army’s South Western Front that conducted the operation. (Timoshenko was subsequently transferred to other duties in the Northern theatre of operations).

At the same time the impetus for Soviet offensive action at Kharkov needs to be seen in the context of a larger strategic miscalculation. Like the Germans, the Soviets had underestimated their enemy. Stalin and the Stavka believed that in the winter of 1941–2 they had come close to precipitating German military collapse on the Eastern Front and that German reserves and resources were exhausted. A further misapprehension was the belief that the main German threat was to the central sector of the Eastern Front and that any major offensive action would be directed at Moscow. The root of this misperception – which persisted throughout the Stalingrad campaign – was threefold. First, was Stalin’s belief that, as in 1941, the decisive struggle would be fought before Moscow which was deemed more important strategically and psychologically than any other Soviet target. Second, there was the fact that 70 German divisions remained concentrated in the central sector, many only 100 miles from Moscow. Third, was the impact of a very effective deception campaign mounted by the Germans – Operation Kreml. This consisted of extensive fake preparations for an attack on Moscow, helping to persuade Stalin that Operation Blau, even once it was well underway, was a diversion or, at most, an operation of secondary importance.

In the context of this web of speculation and calculation the campaign to retake Kharkov did not seem such a great risk, particularly given the large Soviet force committed to the operation – three-quarters of a million strong, including many of the newly-organised tank brigades, the Red Army’s armoured counter to the German panzer divisions.

Although the Kharkov operation was very costly for the Soviets, important lessons were learned too: above all, the wisdom of staying on the strategic defensive and the necessity for retreat in adverse circumstances. For the Germans, on the other hand, the Kharkov victory inflated their expectations of success in the southern campaign and reinforced their belief in Soviet weakness.

Two Jagdpanthers of the Kampfgruppe Wittmoser in the area Hecken-Birken

When J.J. Fedorowicz published Karlheinz Munch's Combat History of Schwere Panzerjaeger Abteilung 653 in 1997, Munch promised that he would deliver a companion volume on Schwere Panzerjaeger Abteilung 654. Five years later, Munch made good on his word with a new book on the 654th, a tome even thicker than his massive work on the 653rd. Was it worth the wait?

Overall, the two volumes are very much alike, so anyone who liked the first will almost certainly like the second, but there are some differences as well as some similarities.

The history of the 654th opens with a bit of a jumble, jumping from a short Introduction to a two-page outline of the battalion's history to two pages of alphabetized Acknowledgements to a six-page overview of the unit's organizational evolution. Munch then offers "Establishment and Operations (August 1939 to March 1943)" for the unit's initial incarnation as Panzerjaeger Abteilung 654 (equipped with towed anti-tank guns), amounting to about sixteen pages, which mostly comprises first-hand accounts contributed by veterans of the 654th plus sidebars such as soldiers' Pay Book records with day-by-day entries of where they were and what they were doing. The first section of photos follows, with snapshots from September 1939, fighting in France, and operations in Russia.

Panzerjager-Abteilung 654 was decimated in the fighting in the east in the winter of 1942-43 and lost most of its vehicles. The battalion was subsequently transferred back to Hamburg-Harburg in Germany for refitting.

By the end of April 1943 the unit was almost completely up to strength in personnel. It was originally intended that the battalion would be equipped with Hornisse (Hornet) tank destroyers. The decision was reversed at the last minute, and the battalion received orders to equip with the Ferdinand tank destroyer (Tiger P VK 4501). At that time, the Ferdinand was the heaviest armored vehicle used by the Wehrmacht.

Munch's "Establishment and Operations of Schwere Panzerjaeger-Abteilung 654" runs to about fourteen pages, carrying the story through the beginning of September 1943 with his own text, more first-hand accounts contributed by veterans, tables of data (such as vehicle complements and lists of commanders), after-action reports, lists of repairs, etc. Most of this material centers around the battalion's role in the Battle of Kursk. This text is followed by almost 150 pages of black and white snapshots along with a few reproductions of wartime documents and pages from technical manuals. The photos are especially interesting, almost all of them featuring the gigantic Ferdinands, which—whatever their weaknesses—certainly were handsome behemoths. As an aside, one minor difference between the two unit histories is that in the 653rd the photo captions are in both English and German, whereas in the 654th the captions are only in English.

The next section of the book is "War Diary No. 8 of schwere Panzerjaeger-Abteilung 654 (draft)," which covers the period 1 January 1944 through 22 June 1944. Munch explains that this war diary (and the other two sections of the 654th's diary included in the book) is a unique document since most German Army war diaries for units smaller than divisions were destroyed in Potsdam in 1945. Diaries 8, 9, and 10 for the 654th survived because they were in private hands, and have since been made available to the author. Diary No. 8 totals approximately 35 pages and includes a great deal of day-to-day detail about exactly what was happening in the battalion. After the diary, Munch presents ten pages of diagrams illustrating combat formations, then segues into War Diary No. 9, which runs from 23 June through 31 December. Here's an extract:

31 July 1944: Starting 0700 hours 3 kilometers south of la Bigne. Weather: Sunny and very warm. During the night of 30/31 July 1944 the Kampfgruppen were committed as follows or the following changes occurred:

1) Jagdpanther under the operational control of the 276. Infanterie-Division:

Kampfgruppe Heyn with 3 Jagdpanther remained in place. No new reports available.

By order of Grenadier-Regiment 987, Kampfgruppe Schnepf with 2 Jagdpanther moved into the area 1.5 kilometers northwest of Feuguerolles. Two vehicles temporarily disabled with steering problems. At the present time Kampfgruppe Schnepf is not operational.

2) Jagdpanther under the operational control of the 326. Infanterie-Division:

After arrival of the division order delivered by a division liaison officer, the Jagdpanther under the operational control of the 326. Infanterie-Division were deployed as follows to seal off the enemy breakthrough in the direction of St. Jean and la Ferriere:

Kampfgruppe Luders with 4 Jagdpanther moved into the la Ferriere area with orders to seal off the advance by enemy tanks in the direction of St. Jean. This mission was completed successfully.

In conjunction with Kampfgruppe Zschenderlein, the enemy tanks advancing from the direction of la Ferriere on the St. Martin - St. Pierre - Coulvain road were stopped south and southeast of la Ferriere.

Kampfgruppe Luders destroyed one enemy tank (Churchill II) with handheld antitank weapons. In addition, 6 prisoners (English) were taken, including two officers. The prisoners were handed over to the division during the day.

Kampfgruppe Zschenderlein with 5 serviceable Jagdpanther also moved into the la Ferriere area with the same orders as Kampfgruppe Luders. The enemy tanks advancing east from the direction of St. Jean on the St. Martin - St. Pierre - Coulvain road were headed off.

The former corps reserve with 10 Jagdpanther was designated Kampfgruppe Wittmoser and moved into the St. Martin area with orders to seal off a breakthrough by enemy tanks south from the direction of St. Jean. During the march five Jagdpanther broke down; the remaining 5 reached the St. Martin area and sealed off the breakthrough by other enemy tanks north of St. Martin.

3) Enemy losses:

10 enemy tanks (Mark II or Mark IV)

1 enemy tank damaged, probably destroyed, same type

1 enemy tank (Sherman)

1 enemy tank (Churchill II), destroyed with handheld antitank weapons

1 enemy scout car

4) Own losses due to enemy action: None.

Note: A Jagdpanther written off on 31 July 1944 (Turret Number 311; gun commander Leutnant Scheiber) was entered under 2 August 1944 as it was blown up on that day.

Serviceable tank destroyers: 11 Jagdpanther and 3 command tanks

Short-term repair: 14 Jagdpanther

Long-term repair: 1 Jagdpanther

Personnel casualties in the month of July 1944: 5 killed; 27 wounded (1 officer); and, 3 missing.

Following War Diary No. 9, a further ten pages contain personal accounts from battalion personnel in Normandy. This material leads to War Diary No. 10, covering 1 January 1945 through 2 April 1945 and amounting to some thirty pages. The next section shows a brief chronology of the 654th from 16 November 1944 through 8 February 1945 based on material found in army and army group war diaries. Then come more personal accounts, some very lengthy and detailed, of action on the western front. This leads to a section comprising over 180 pages of black and white photos of the 654th in France and Germany, these featuring the Jagdpanthers with which the battalion was equipped on the western front.

Munch concludes the book with ten pages of detailed scale drawings and cutaway views, about thirty-two pages of gorgeous color plates displaying the battalion's vehicles from multiple angles, and almost twenty pages of organigrams showing the 654th's TOE and names of tank commanders, etc.

In sum, the history of the 654th offers considerably more information than the history of the 653rd, mostly because Munch has been able to include three significant chunks of the battalion's war diary. Given its overall dimensions, page count, lengthy text, hundreds of photos, and wealth of other supporting materials, this battalion history puts most divisional histories to shame. For most other battalions, this might actually prove to be overkill, but—given the amazing vehicles with which the unit was equipped and the heavy fighting it saw—the 654th is well-served by such a massive history. The size of the volume and the amount of information exacerbates the only real problem with the book (but not a huge problem), and that's a somewhat jumbled organization. Very few of the words actually belong to Munch, and the other text tends to be scattered over fairly large areas—even when it relates to the same operations and incidents—rather than synthesized into a single narrative. For example, readers would need to look under the separate sections "War Diary No. 9," "Appendices to War Diary No. 9," "Accounts of Personnel," "Summary of Operational Dates," and "Post-War Accounts" in order to glean all the details about the unit's actions in November 1944.

At least one reader has complained about the poor quality of some of the photos in the book. There's no denying that these are not all of museum quality. For example, they can't be compared to the exquisite images in The Regiment that Built the Alaska Highway. Here's what the author has to say on the subject:

One particularly difficult aspect of the project was locating period photographic material from former members of (schwere) Panzerjager-Abteilung 654.

This is due in part to the almost total destruction of Panzerjager-Abteilung 654 in Russia in the winter of 1942-43, during which the battalion lost almost all its personal equipment, documents and other records. In addition, the destruction of a Ferdinand or Jagdpanther tank destroyer almost always resulted in the loss of all of the crews [sic] personal possessions. Most were fortunate to escape with their lives. Those documents that were rescued from abandoned or knocked-out tank destroyers were mostly taken away or destroyed when the men were later taken prisoner.

Those photographs that were found are therefore photographic rarities and the reader should judge them as such. Instances of poor quality are due to the circumstances at the time and the age of the photos.

Despite some photographic imperfections, it's hard to see how anyone could fail to be impressed by The Combat History of Schwere Panzerjaeger Abteilung 654. Definitely worth having a look.

Available from online booksellers, local bookshops, or directly from J.J. Fedorowicz.

The primary duty of the repair and maintenance company (Werkstattkompanie) is repairing tanks. For its work to be effective, the company requires a degree of stability. Therefore it is necessary that during ongoing operations, the repair company remain in the same location for several days before it relocates. Its timely and pertinent commitment is decisive for the maintenance of the combat strength of the formation.

As the war continued, antitank defenses increased and it became increasingly important to react more flexibly to developing situations. Large maneuver elements were often not in a position to do that. Combat-ready tanks (at times without concern for what company they belonged to) were assembled into a "gepanzerte Gruppe" (armored group) and reinforced with SPW-Kompanien (armored-personnel carrier companies). These then formed so-called "Panzerkampfgruppen." Panzerpionier and artillery forces were generally assigned to support them. Depending on the situation, the PanzerautkHirungsabteilung might also be involved. In this case, however, it was frequently employed more in the role of a (light) Panzergrenadierbataillon than for reconnaissance purposes. Divisions that had two Panzerabteilungen could also form two Kampfgruppen, though one of the battalions would have to work with a towed artillery battalion supporting it.

This combination of armored forces proved to be the most successful organization of troops. Only the "purebred" combination that was the Panzerkampfgruppe constituted a team of combined arms. It could work together in ideal fashion due to its armor and comparable operational and tactical mobility. None of the different branches had to exert undue concern for the other or employ it in a situation that endangered it.

The non-armored portion of the division served as the reserve, guarded areas or acted as normal positional troops in defense. That often caused logistical problems, since the Schwerpunkt (point of main effort) usually had to be with the Panzerkampfgruppe. Additional problems arose because no staff for the Kampfgruppe was permanently organized. Instead, it had to be formed by arbitrarily taking people from the parent organization. It would have been more proficient to have a permanent personnel organized for it. Armored battalions were also not given the logistical capacity to operate separately.

The organization and equipment of the PanzeraufkHirungsabteilung also did not prove successful. Rather, it left the regiments and battalions lacking their own efficient reconnaissance elements. As for Introduction xiii the Panzerjagerabteilung was concerned, it was increasingly proposed to integrate it by companies into the infantry regiments or even into the Panzergrenadierbataillone, since the antitank battalion was only suitable for limited separate employment anyway.

The Panzerkampfgruppe as an organization was not officially introduced during the war. Instead existing organizations were improved incrementally, such as by the formation of supply companies. Inadequate to the end were the numbers and the outfitting of the Panzergrenadiere, the latter due to the lack of adequate production of SPW's. Most were only motorized and, in fact, really only infantry, since they had to perform all assignments dismounted.

With regard to logistics, the attack is the most demanding form of combat. The consumption of ammunition and fuel is high. Great distances yawn between the attacking forces and their own troops and movement is through territory that is threatened by the enemy. In the defense one expects high expenditure of ammunition and can build up corresponding reserves and conceal them. Engineer supplies for construction of obstacles and barriers can be placed at the ready in adequate quantity and with less time pressure. Additional artillery ammunition can be held in reserve in firing positions. None of that is possible in the attack. The only simpler logistical operation is the recovery of out-of-action vehicles that have been left behind. Attempting to recover vehicles during a delaying operation or a withdrawal is obviously much more difficult.

In armored combat logistical planning is of paramount importance and should be viewed as having a priority equivalent to planning the tactical commitment. In light of the short operating range of the vehicles, fuel supply is especially difficult. It is often necessary to have a brief refueling halt after completion of the approach march to the line of departure immediately before the attack. Considering the threat posed by artillery, that is anything but an easy decision!

During the course of the attack, refueling must come at timely intervals before consumption reduces vehicular fuel supplies to a level where movements have to be stopped. One strives to refuel when about 50 percent of the on-board fuel has been consumed. That was frequently possible during the night, since movements were generally halted in unknown territory during the hours of darkness. The company leaders need to report promptly and establish contact points on the ground for rendezvous with supply vehicles. After having made the link up they should remain in the combat zone no longer than necessary and must be sent back immediately. Since the distance to the supply points are often great, the practice of partially emptying and then hanging onto supply vehicles for later availability would be fatal. The drivers of the supply vehicles have a hard time during offensive operations. Often they are on the road day in and day out and sleep is only possible for a few hours during the drive when the assistant driver takes the wheel. Supply of the leading formations is especially critical. Since those formations have to operate without contact with the following troops, they have to integrate their logistical vehicles in their own organization and continuously protect them against enemy action with combat vehicles. Any opportunity to drain the tanks of broken-down friendly vehicles or abandoned enemy vehicles and refuel from them must be used. Phased supply from the air may also be used. In Belgium and northern France, Panzergruppe Kleist was only able to advance so rapidly in 1940 because the local network of gas stations was well established.

The role of the Red Army during the Warsaw Uprising remains controversial and is still disputed by historians. The Uprising started when the Red Army appeared on the city’s doorstep, and the Poles in Warsaw were counting on Soviet aid coming in a matter of days. This basic scenario of an uprising against the Germans launched a few days before the arrival of Allied forces played out successfully in a number of European capitals, notably Paris and Prague. However, despite retaining positions south-east of Warsaw barely 10 km from the city center for about 40 days, the Soviets did not extend effective aid to the desperate city. The sector was held by the understrength German 73rd Infantry Division, destroyed many times on the Eastern Front and recently reconstituted. The division, though weak, did not experience significant Soviet pressure during that period. The Red Army was fighting intense battles to the south of Warsaw, to seize and maintain bridgeheads over the Vistula River, and to the north, to gain bridgeheads over the river Narew. The best German armored divisions were fighting on those sectors. Despite that, both of these objectives had been mostly secured by early September. The Soviet 47th army did not move into Praga, on the right bank of the Vistula, until the 11th of September. In three days the Soviets gained control of the suburb, a few hundred meters from the main battle on the other side of the river, as the resistance by the German 73rd division collapsed quickly. If the Soviets had reached this stage in early August, the crossing of the river would have been easier, as the Poles then held considerable stretches of the riverfront. However, by mid-September a series of German attacks had reduced the Poles to holding one narrow stretch of the riverbank, in the district of Czerniaków. The Poles were counting on the Soviet forces to cross to the left bank where the main battle of the uprising was occurring. Though Berling’s 1st Polish army did cross the river, their support from the Soviets was inadequate and the main Soviet force did not follow them.

One of the reasons given for the failure of the uprising was the reluctance of the Soviet Red Army to help the Resistance. On 1 August, only several hours prior to the outbreak of the uprising, the Soviet advance was halted by a direct order from the Kremlin. Soon afterwards the Soviet tank units stopped receiving any oil from their depots. By then the Soviets knew of the planned outbreak from their agents in Warsaw and, more importantly, from the Polish prime minister Stanisław Mikołajczyk, who informed them of the Polish plans a few hours before. The Red Army’s order to halt just a short distance away on the right bank of the Vistula, and not to link up with or in any way assist the Resistance forces, is blamed on post-war political considerations and malice by Stalin. According to this opinion, by ordering his forces to halt before entering the city, Stalin ensured that the Home Army would not succeed. Had the Home Army triumphed, the Polish government-in-exile would have increased their political and moral legitimacy to reinstate a government of its own, rather than accept a Soviet regime. The destruction of Polish resistance guaranteed that they could not resist Soviet occupation, that it would be the Soviets who “liberated” Warsaw, and that Soviet influence would prevail over Poland. At times during the uprising the NKVD actively arrested Home Army forces in the East of Warsaw and a large proportion of RAF losses were caused by Soviet anti-aircraft fire.[citation needed] This appears to strengthen the claim that the Western Allies were deliberately blocked from providing support to the Poles so that any independent-minded Polish forces were destroyed before the arrival of Soviet troops.

One way or the another, the presence of Soviet tanks in nearby Wołomin 15 kilometers to the east of Warsaw had sealed the decision of the Home Army leaders to launch the uprising. However, as a result of the initial battle of Radzymin in the final days of July, these advance units of the Soviet 2nd Tank Army were pushed out of Wołomin and back about 10 km. On 9 August, Stalin informed Premier Mikołajczyk that the Soviets had originally planned to be in Warsaw by 6 August, but a counter-attack by four Panzer divisions had thwarted their attempts to reach the city. By 10 August, the Germans had enveloped and inflicted heavy casualties on the Soviet 2nd Tank Army at Wołomin. When Stalin and Churchill met face-to-face in October 1944, Stalin told Churchill that the lack of Soviet support was a direct result of a major reverse in the Vistula sector in August, which had to be kept secret for strategic reasons. All contemporary German sources assumed that the Soviets were trying to link up with the insurgents, and they believed it was their defense that prevented the Soviet advance rather than a reluctance to advance on the part of the Soviets. Nevertheless, as part of their strategy the Germans published propaganda accusing both the British and Soviets of abandoning the Poles.

The Soviet units which reached the outskirts of Warsaw in the final days of July 1944 had advanced from the 1st Belorussian Front in Western Ukraine as part of the Lublin-Brest Offensive Operation, between the Lvov-Sandomierz Operation on its left and Operation Bagration on its right. These two flanking operations were colossal defeats for the German army and completely destroyed a large number of German formations. As a consequence, the Germans at this time were desperately trying to put together a new force to hold the line of the Vistula, the last major river barrier between the Red Army and Germany proper, rushing in units in various stages of readiness from all over Europe. These included many infantry units of poor quality, and 4–5 high quality Panzer Divisions in the 39th Panzer Corps and 4th SS Panzer Corps pulled from their refits.

Other possible explanations for Soviet conduct are possible. The Red Army geared for a major thrust into the Balkans through Romania in mid-August and a large proportion of Soviet resources was sent in that direction, while the offensive in Poland was put on hold. Stalin had made a strategic decision to concentrate on occupying Eastern Europe, rather than on making a thrust toward Germany. The capture of Warsaw was not essential for the Soviets, as they had already seized a series of convenient bridgeheads to the south of Warsaw, and were concentrating on defending them against vigorous German counterattacks. Finally, the Soviet High Command may not have developed a coherent or appropriate strategy with regard to Warsaw because they were badly misinformed. Propaganda from the Polish Committee of National Liberation minimized the strength of the Home Army and portrayed them as Nazi sympathizers. Information submitted to Stalin by intelligence operatives or gathered from the frontline was often inaccurate or omitted key details. Possibly because the operatives were unable, as part of a repressive totalitarian regime, to express opinions or report facts which diverged from the party line, they “deliberately resorted to writing nonsense”.

According to noted Eastern Front historian, David Glantz, the Red Army was simply unable to extend effective support to the uprising, which began too early, regardless of Stalin’s political intentions. German military capabilities in August—early September were sufficient to halt any Soviet assistance to the Poles in Warsaw, were it intended. In addition, Glantz argued that the Warsaw would be a costly city to clear it of Germans and unsuitable location as a start point for subsequent Red Army offensives.

SS-HauptsturmfuhrerWalterGirg, SSJagdverband Mitte; Budapest, October 1944. This swashbuckling captain, renowned for daring operations behind Soviet lines, would be decorated with the Knight's Cross after Operation Panzerfaust; he would later be captured by the Red Army but would escape, earning himself the Oakleaves before the end of the war. He wears absolutely standard Waffen-SS officer's service dress with the officer's greatcoat, the cap and shoulder straps piped in infantry white. Unusually for an officer he is heavily armed, with two sets of magazine pouches for his MP40.

Otto Skorzeny (centre) with Adrian von Folkersam and Walter Girg on the esplanade outside Buda Castle following the successful conclusion of the Horthy operation. At left is a member of the Hungarian Arrow-Cross party, the extreme right-wing movement that remained loyal to Germany, and whose leader Ferenc Szálasi was installed as prime minister after the coup against Admiral Horthy. (Bundesarchiv)

One of Skorzeny's most able officers at this time was the young SS-Untersturmführer Walter Girg, who in late August 1944 was serving as a platoon commander in 1./SS-Jäger Bataillon 502. Girg had been tasked with leading a reconnaissance mission deep into enemy territory, to disrupt supply lines and block passes through the Carpathians that would be useful to the advancing Red Army. Having achieved some success in disrupting the enemy advance and also saving some of the ethnic Germans living in the region, Girg disguised himself as a Romanian and took part in the 'celebration' of the Soviet advance. Subsequently, however, he and his men were discovered and taken prisoner near Brasov. After severe beatings the Germans were being lined up to be shot when an artillery barrage distracted the Soviets, and the Germans made a run for it. Girg escaped despite being wounded in the foot while making his getaway, and the information that he and his men had gathered during the course of the operation was instrumental in allowing the Germans to avoid the encirclement of an entire corps. Girg received a well deserved promotion to SS-Obersturmführer.

Thereafter SS-Ostuf Girg took command of an armoured unit operating behind enemy lines using captured Soviet tanks. On one occasion, while making his way back to the German lines through Soviet-held territory, Girg was intercepted near Kolberg by German troops who suspected him of being one of the so-called 'Seydlitz' troops (Communist-sympathising German turncoats recruited by the Soviets from among prisoners of war). His captors refused to believe him when he explained his true identity; he was given a summary trial for treason and sentenced to death, and a signal from Skorzeny confirming Girg's true identity arrived only just in time to prevent his execution.

Walter Girg was promoted to SS-Hauptsturmführer, and after Operation Panzerfaust in October 1944 he was awarded the Knight's Cross. Thereafter it was said that even when in disguise during covert operations Girg wore his decoration at all times, hidden under a scarf when necessary. He survived the war, after receiving the Oakleaves to his Knight's Cross.