I am about a quarter of the way through the audio version (for some reason the voice actor puts on an obviously fake German accent and reads with a downbeat tone, which take a bit of getting used to) of this Second World War memoir. Von Luck has reached Smolensk, on the road to Moscow, and I want to jot down a few thoughts on the book so far.
It certainly makes an interesting, total contrast with my previous wartime read/listen, Guy Sajer's Forgotten Soldier. Hans von Luck- the 'von' is key here- was a professional career soldier in an elite motorised unit, from an old Prussian military family, educated, cultured and multi-lingual. Before the war he hobnobbed within an international elite 'set', so he later encounters opponents on the field whom he'd last seen in an English gentleman's club. Unlike Guy Sajer, whose wartime experience was limited to the Eastern Front, mostly during its retreat phase, von Luck saw action in Poland, France, North Africa, Italy, Normandy, and Russia. He was there for the invasion of Poland in 1939, and for Belgium and France in 1940. It all sounds rather jolly seen through his eyes, war as a gentlemanly, chivalrous affair. Welcoming locals, minimum of bloodshed, good behaviour, honourable intentions. In France he takes the opportunity to build up his wine collection, making clear he pays for the fine bottles he is able to collect and send back to Germany for safe-keeping. All the while, von Luck is at great pains to point out he was never a Nazi nor had any sympathies with Hitler or National Socialism. He makes disparaging comments about Party functionaries, shows distaste for Himmler and the SS including the Waffen SS, set up, he says, to make sure the Wehrmacht could be kept under control.
The memoir begins with a brief account of von Luck's postwar captivity in a Soviet work camp for German POWs, where he was kept for 5 years before his release and return to civilian life. Von Luck seems surprisingly forgiving of his Russian captors and displays no bitterness or anger. He wrote these memoirs nearly forty years later, and time is a great healer, but he seems truthful and honest. Von Luck comes across as fundamentally decent, a gentleman, the kind of man who would make convivial company.
Von Luck represents the ideal German officer from a generation that grew up during the Weimar years before Nazi propaganda took control of hearts and minds. He supports with the regime's initial moves to win back German pride and control of territories lost by the punitive retribution of the Treaty of Versailles. Yet he makes sure to distance himself, and the Wehrmacht, from politics and ideology. It's the old line, "We were soldiers merely doing our duty in fulfilment of a binding oath". I suspect there's a bit of a gloss going on in von Luck's account, but the fact he appears to have become friends with some old adversaries signifies the respect this German officer had from those in a position to judge fairly. I will update.
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At the halfway point, I must call attention to the way von Luck's service in the desert marks the stark contrast between the experience of war by the men of the Afrika Korps and those sent to the Eastern Front. For e.g., von Luck describes the 'Gentleman's agreement' between his battalion and a nearby British unit, whereby at 5 o'clock each day hostilities ceased and information exchanged as to their respective captured prisoners, with messages of respect and goodwill, and taking of tea. Unimaginable on the Russian Front, where at the same time the Sixth Army suffered appallingly in Stalingrad from a combination of ruthless winter, starvation, and merciless savagery (understandable given what was done to Soviet prisoners by the advancing Germans). Of course von Luck's anecdotes are selective, and there was undoubtedly savagery in the Africa campaign, too, but it was a different experience, nonetheless, with Bedouin locals lending hospitality and assistance to both sides, as recalled by von Luck in glowing terms, not at all like Partisan attrition in Russia. In Africa and Russia alike German forces were bedevilled by chronic lack of supplies, materiel and poor decision making in Berlin.
Von Luck makes very clear, too, that Rommel by late 1942 told him the war was lost and the best course for Germany was to sue for peace with the Western Allies, getting rid of Hitler, to unite against their true enemy, Stalin. Would the Field Marshall really have been so frank with a junior officer, even one who was a special favourite with longtime service under Rommel? It seems unlikely. I do get the impression von Luck's memoir bears more than a tint of rose-coloured hindsight, charming as he is in the telling of his story. In this he is perhaps more like Guy Sajer than it might at first appear. Sajer wanted to shine light on the appalling suffering of the ordinary German soldier in the East, whereas von Luck's (worthy) agenda is to bring together former enemies in an embrace of mutual respect, forgiveness, tolerance and understanding, unity to make sure the conflict that engulfed the world 1939-45 is never allowed to happen again.
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Finished. I enjoyed this memoir very much. I don't know how typical Hans von Luck was of the German officer class. He comes across as being quite special despite what seem genuine natural modesty and reticence. Interestingly, during the section covering his time in the gulag he gives his account in third person, we not I, shared suffering and endurance. He learns to knit and churns out socks to replace inadequate cotton foot coverings, even has guards buying them! As he says early in the book, what the Germans had that their enemies never matched, was unit cohesion and as a consequence, a strong sense of comradeship...They will fight and die for their units and for their comrades. It comes down to this: no one wants to look the coward before friends, or to let them down at critical moments. Very Prussian.
Von Luck was resilient, resourceful, held himself to a very high standard and expected the same from fellow officers and soldiers. He observes during the early days in Poland how the stalwart and robust-seeming men often lost their nerve under combat conditions, while the supposedly weak proved to be strong and kept their heads. He has emotional reunions with old fighting comrades and fellow POW camp survivors who share a common feeling of solidarity. Luck never appears to waver, no matter what came at him. He also had a fair degree of the luck his name implies (pronounced Look, I know). In later years, von Luck gave talks to British, Swedish and American audiences and military groups, and attended commemoration ceremonies with former enemies: What madness to fight to the knife and then become good friends. As an aside, it amused me greatly when von Luck in Hamburg after his release finds a job in an international hotel as Night Manager...I now can't help picturing him as Tom Hiddleston.
I'm not sure what to make of his claim not to have known anything about the camps before learning of the fate of his prospective father-in-law in Sachsenhausen. Perhaps a case of not wanting to know? Or a busy, preoccupied, fully engaged professional soldier seldom exposed to the realities of the home front? He never mentions atrocities. Feels sympathy for officers he knows forced from the Wehrmacht into SS service without choice or possibility of refusal. In any case, von Luck did his time for five years as a Russian POW, without any suggestion he had been anything other than a 'good' German officer and commander.
I have often felt that in the first half of my life I was, in a double sense, a prisoner of my time, trapped on the one hand in the Prussian tradition and bound by the oath of allegiance, which made it easy for the Nazi regime to misuse the military leadership; then forced to pay my country's tribute, along with so many thousand others, with five years of captivity on Russian soil. Some might see this as self-serving apologia, that the Wehrmacht and cultured, educated men like von Luck were quite happy to go along with the Nazis, until the tide of war turned so disastrously against the Reich. On the basis of his memoir, I am prepared to give him the benefit of doubt. He accepted his share of collective guilt as a professional soldier, but as a human being I feel none, and dedicated the remainder of his life to making sure it could never happen again. I can't help thinking he would be disappointed by the direction things have taken in Europe today, that lessons have not been learned, or, forgotten, as the Second World War recedes from popular memory.