Erwin Rommel and German Military Doctrine,1912–1940

I. An Outsider to the Military Establishment?

Although interest in Rommel faded following his wounding and subsequent death in 1944, ⁵ it was reignited in January 1950 by Desmond Young’s biography, simply entitled Rommel. In contrast to wartime depictions, Young presented Rommel in a very favourable light: ‘the perfect fighting animal, cold, cunning, ruthless, untiring, quick of decision, incredibly brave’. Rommel was simply ‘on the wrong side’. ⁶ Young found many ‘British’ characteristics in this German officer, a perspective reflected in the resulting film, The Desert Fox, where he was portrayed as ‘stern, but chivalrous and respectful’. ⁷

One of the many figures from the British military establishment who had assisted Young was Basil Liddell Hart. ⁸ In 1948 he had published The Other Side of the Hill, based on interviews with German generals held prisoner by the British, which presented them as ‘technicians’ who had been ‘hoodwinked’ by Hitler. ⁹ The book positioned Liddell Hart in Germany as a well-known British writer with a supportive attitude, ¹⁰ making him a natural choice when Young was seeking help in preparing his own, highly positive, biography. It is therefore unsurprising that Rommel’s family subsequently approached Liddell Hart, through Young, to edit the general’s personal papers. He agreed, apologizing that he had not been sufficiently kind about Rommel in his own book. ¹¹ Its second (1951) edition included an additional paragraph: ‘The more deeply his record is examined the clearer it becomes that both his gifts and his performance. . . qualified him for a place in the role of the “Great Captains” of history.’ ¹² Liddell Hart’s labours on behalf of the family appeared in 1953 as The Rommel Papers. ¹³

These three books together set a trend for presenting Rommel as a maverick. Young argued Rommel’s tactical brilliance (especially his famous Fingerspitzengefühl ¹⁴ – literally, ‘finger-tip feeling’) and unorthodox approach secured victory despite the hesitancy of his superiors. ¹⁵ Reinforcing this perceived separation from the mainstream, Field Marshal Sir Claude Auchinleck wrote in the foreword: ‘Rommel was certainly exceptional. Germany produces many ruthlessly efficient generals: Rommel stood out amongst them because he had overcome the innate rigidity of the German military mind and was a master of improvisation.’ ¹⁶ In The Rommel Papers, Liddell Hart repeatedly referred to Rommel’s originality, and its index included the heading ‘Originality (and Unorthodoxy)’. ¹⁷ In The Other Side of the Hill, he described Rommel as ‘an outsider’, who had been passed over by the military establishment as not fit for ‘the select circle of the future General Staff’. Rommel had only achieved promotion through his contacts with Hitler, who found him ‘a refreshingly unorthodox soldier’. ¹⁸ Reinforcing this depiction, Young claimed Chief of the General Staff Franz Halder’s dislike of Rommel was ‘obvious’. ¹⁹ These themes were echoed in another book appearing around that time, in which Rommel’s chief of staff in North Africa, Siegfried Westphal, argued the German military establishment had been hostile to Rommel, due to his ‘strongly-developed spirit of contrariness’. ²⁰

This sense of Rommel as an outsider characterized the ‘string of effusive and often uncritical biographies’ ²¹ appearing during subsequent decades. Ronald Lewin’s biography (1968) commented on the way Rommel’s mind appeared ‘fresh, uninhibited, experimental, untrammelled by precedent’. ²² Similarly, Charles Douglas-Home (1973) argued he was ‘a man apart’ from the German military tradition, ‘an outsider as far as the general staff was concerned’, separate from its thinking and writing. ²³ Kenneth Macksey (1979) again underlined his position as an outsider, recording Westphal had commented on how surprising it was that, in 1919, Rommel, unlike almost all of the few other subaltern recipients of the Pour le Mérite, ²⁴ was not selected for staff training at the famous war academy. Westphal suggested this was because his approach did not ‘fit’ with the general staff, and noted Rommel had taken the decision as a serious rebuff, leaving him bitter towards the military establishment. ²⁵

An important element in Rommel’s perceived status as a maverick, operating outside the mainstream of German military thinking, was the assertion that his success in 1940 owed nothing to Guderian’s doctrine for the use of armoured forces. Not only had he had no prior involvement with the panzers prior to his appointment to command 7th Panzer Division in February 1940, Liddell Hart argued Rommel had even been an active opponent of the new gospel. ²⁶ Instead, it was suggested, he simply reverted to the techniques employed in 1917, his last previous experience of combat, when he was a subaltern in the Wurttemberg Mountain Battalion. ²⁷ Indeed, Kurt Hesse, a colleague at the Dresden Infantry School, wrote: ‘Basically, he [Rommel] always remained the same lieutenant, appreciating the situation in the blink of an eye and then seizing its opportunities through lightning-quick action.’ ²⁸

This orthodoxy of Rommel as a brilliant outsider, drawing on his own experience in preference to following established doctrine, was first challenged in 1977. In a revisionist biography, David Irving argued that Rommel was far from being the maverick of previous accounts. Rather, this picture was in large measure the deliberate creation of Hans Speidel, his chief of staff in Normandy. ²⁹ Although analysis by Richard Evans has revealed fundamental flaws in Irving’s technique and approach, such that his publications must be treated with extreme caution, ³⁰ subsequent historians have broadly supported Irving on this specific point.

Through Rommel’s family, Speidel too had assisted Young with his biography, ³¹ thereby meeting Liddell Hart and gaining the opportunity to influence the books that established Rommel’s post-war reputation. The evidence suggests Speidel had motives beyond simple historical accuracy or the improvement of conditions for Rommel’s family. Soon after the war, tensions with the Soviet Union had given Britain and America new concerns, raising the question whether Germany should be rearmed. ³² For this to happen, the German army needed to be rehabilitated. That depended in part on identifying Wehrmacht commanders who had resisted the Nazis and so retained their honour. As early as 1946 Speidel had told his fellow former generals in captivity that he intended to make Rommel, whose association with the 20 July bomb plot had led to his forced suicide, ‘the hero of the German people’. ³³ Through his involvement with Liddell Hart and Young, Speidel was able to make this goal a reality, ensuring Rommel became the archetypal ‘good German’, who opposed Hitler and thereby lent legitimacy to Germany’s war experience ³⁴ and hence the new Bundeswehr. ³⁵ For him to be perceived as a brilliant field commander, yet an outsider to the general staff (declared a criminal organization at the Nuremberg trials), made Rommel even more perfect for this role. As military adviser to the German Chancellor, Konrad Adenauer, Speidel went on to play an important role in the establishment of the Bundeswehr, in which he became a central figure.

Most subsequent biographers and historians have agreed Rommel was rather more within the mainstream of German military practice than had at first been suggested. Russel Stolfi suggested the characteristics displayed by Rommel and 7th Panzer Division were typical of the German army as a whole, while nonetheless highlighting his reliance on experience from the First World War. ³⁶ Dirk Oetting also noted Rommel sometimes acted like a First World War storm-troop lieutenant, but similarly suggested his command from the front and his readiness to seize fleeting opportunities remained within the compass of the army’s doctrine. ³⁷ Dennis Showalter equally argued Rommel’s technique in 1940 drew on his experiences in 1917, but suggested this ‘owed a good deal to the German army’s doctrine’, which had likewise drawn lessons from the more mobile campaigns of that war. He also dismissed claims Rommel was an outsider to the military establishment. ³⁸ Claus Telp again emphasized Rommel in 1940 operated within the mainstream of German military thought. Indeed, contrary to suggestions Rommel was ignorant of, and hostile to, armoured tactics prior to his appointment to command 7th Panzer Division, Telp highlighted his study of armoured theory, suggesting this aligned with his experience as a light infantryman in 1917. ³⁹ Similarly, Daniel Butler underlined the impression made on Rommel through his observation of motorized forces during the conquest of Poland in 1939, while suggesting he saw their characteristic speed and surprise as offering an opportunity for him to apply his favoured command style from the previous war. ⁴⁰

But this view of Rommel as an orthodox adherent to the German army’s doctrine and an insider to its establishment is by no means accepted by all recent historians. Telp himself suggested Rommel’s leadership style during the campaign in France was ‘only broadly in line with established doctrine’. ⁴¹ Similarly, Peter Caddick-Adams, while noting Rommel’s familiarity with the tactics enshrined in the army’s doctrine, argued his behaviour in practice deserved the label of ‘maverick’. ⁴² David Fraser too suggested Rommel ‘could only command in his own way, in the way he had learned from his own experience against . . . the Italians [in 1917]’. ⁴³ Maurice Remy claimed Rommel simply refused to listen to his superiors and rushed forward like a man possessed, despite their best efforts to stop him. ⁴⁴ Marco Sigg perhaps has gone the furthest of recent historians, arguing Rommel was guilty of ‘Eigenmächtigkeit’ (wilfulness), breaking free of all control from his superiors, and hence acting beyond the scope of the accepted doctrine. ⁴⁵ Perhaps most importantly, in the German official history of the 1940 campaign, the head of the Bundeswehr’s department for the history of the two world wars, Colonel Karl-Heinz Frieser, argued:

Rommel won breathtaking victories, ironically because he knew so little about Panzer operational principles. The old rules, spelled out in regulations, no longer applied . . . Instead [he] led his Panzers like an infantry assault detachment and employed the same infiltration tactics he had . . . during World War I. This unorthodox way of employing the Panzer force became the nightmare of his methodical French counterparts. ⁴⁶

Although recent historians have therefore largely rejected the simplistic picture, presented in the immediate post-war literature, of Rommel as a maverick, his true relationship with the army’s doctrine and its inner establishment remains the subject of debate. There is general agreement that the tactics Rommel applied as a panzer division commander in France in May 1940 showed great continuity with those he had used as an infantry subaltern in Italy in 1917. There is, however, rather less consensus over whether those tactics were typical of, or contrary to, those set out in the German army’s doctrine. This reflects a broader trend in recent German historiography on Rommel, which increasingly reveals the complexities and subtleties of his approach and thinking, and thereby defies the simplistic categorization of much of the earlier anglophone literature. The thoughtful thematic biography by Ralf Georg Reuth ⁴⁷ and Peter Lieb’s analysis of Rommel’s changing relationship with Nazi ideology ⁴⁸ especially reflect this latest approach.

This article therefore seeks to address these remaining areas of disagreement. It provides an analysis of Rommel’s command approach, as displayed through his actions during the critical phase of the 1940 campaign: the crossing of the Meuse at Dinant and the subsequent penetration of the French defensive zone, 12–15 May. The central elements of this command approach are then compared to his exploits against the Italians in a key phase of the Caporetto campaign in 1917: the capture of Mount Matajur, 24–6 October. This allows the issue of continuity to be considered in detail. Rommel’s approach, as demonstrated in these two actions, is then compared with the statements in the successive editions of the German army’s most important infantry training and field service regulations, from the date when he was first commissioned, in 1912, through until he came to international notice, in 1940. This provides the basis for an assessment of whether he acted within or outside the doctrine as it developed over the period. In addition, this comparison of Rommel’s practice with official theory allows insights into the doctrine itself.

II. Tutor to the Army

Before embarking on this analysis, however, it is appropriate to explore in more detail the precise nature of Rommel’s postings between the two world wars, to understand his position with regard to the German military establishment.

Retained as one of the 4,000 officers required for the Reichswehr, Rommel was assigned to Infanterie-Regiment 13 (IR13) as a company commander. ⁴⁹ He remained in this relatively obscure posting for almost a decade, his career proceeding in an unremarkable manner, ⁵⁰ until October 1929, when he became a tactics instructor at the Infanterieschule (Infantry School). This was the turning point in his career and marked his entry into the army’s central elite. He was to spend most of the next decade in a series of such roles: from 1 October 1929 to 30 September 1933 he was an instructor at the Infantry School at Dresden, from 15 October 1935 to 9 November 1938 he was an instructor at the Kriegsschule (war school) at Potsdam, and from 10 November 1938 to 14 February 1940 he was commandant of the new war school at Wiener Neustadt, ⁵¹ based at the Maria Theresa Military Academy of the former Austrian army. ⁵² During this period his only substantive posting to a non-instructional role was two years (1933–5) as commander of III Bataillon, Infanterie-Regiment 17 (III/IR17), a specialist mountain battalion, known as the Goslar Jäger (‘Huntsmen from Goslar’). This phase in his career ended on 15 February 1940, when he took command of 7th Panzer Division. ⁵³ Just 12 weeks later, he led it across the Meuse and into the history books.

Drawing largely on unattributed reminiscences first presented by Irving, ⁵⁴ scholarly accounts have focused primarily on Rommel’s obvious ability as a teacher and his outstanding reputation with his students. ⁵⁵ Little has been written concerning the training institutions themselves or their place within the German army. How important was Rommel’s role?

In the Reichswehr (1919–35), officer candidates were first appointed to the ranks, where they undertook nine months of basic training, followed by six months’ NCO training. All those who passed the Officer Candidate Examination next attended the Infantry School, regardless of their intended arm of service, for a ten-and-a-half-month course. Following a brief period with their regiments, infantry candidates then attended a further nine-month course at the school, after which they were commissioned. The essence of both courses was to develop the candidates’ leadership skills, principally through classroom discussion and practical exploration of all-arms tactical problems.

A central feature of the training in Dresden was the absence of any ‘school’ solution, the aim being to develop the cadets’ initiative and speed of decision-making. ⁵⁶ Shortly before Rommel arrived at the Infantry School, Captain William Hones, US Army, attended as part of a regular exchange arrangement. ⁵⁷ Hones noted the course focused on ‘the training of the student [through] problems in leadership and tactics, designed to inculcate in him the ability to command. [A] maximum amount of time [is] devoted to exercises in which the student is given opportunities to make decisions, issue orders and command.’ ⁵⁸ Field exercises were an ‘almost daily occurrence’ and particularly emphasized terrain and tanks. ⁵⁹

Rommel’s superiors recorded with approval how his teaching, presented in a highly stimulating manner and drawn from his own combat experience, was focused on developing ‘initiative, fresh audacity, and a willingness to take responsibility’ on the part of the cadets. ⁶⁰ Although Showalter noted Rommel ‘was impatient of any reference to doctrine or authority at the expense of a student’s own mental processes’, ⁶¹ the point was that doctrine should not be used as a replacement for thought (‘I don’t want to hear what Clausewitz thinks, tell me what you think!’ ⁶² ), rather than that doctrine was of itself of no value.

The Reichswehr placed great emphasis on the standard of officer candidate education. Only the best line officers, alongside selected general staff officers, served as instructors, and the Infantry School was the most important of the branch schools. Showalter noted assignment to the Infantry School was therefore ‘in the same category’ as service with the Truppenamt (the disguised Great General Staff). ⁶³ Selection for Dresden, therefore, was a prestigious posting for Rommel, placing him near the heart of the army’s establishment and marking him out for future promotion, ⁶⁴ a career route already recommended in his final annual evaluation report from IR13 in 1929. ⁶⁵

Indeed, the decision not to select Rommel for general staff training may have reflected a sound assessment of his character by the army’s personnel office. Rommel found his time as a staff officer in 1918 a severe trial, the steady nature of planning being fundamentally at odds with his impatient character. ⁶⁶ Assigning him instead to a role where he could make the most of his gift for leadership and practical training should not necessarily be seen as evidence of a rejection by the establishment, ⁶⁷ even though of course that is certainly how Rommel himself took it. As Reuth noted, Rommel ‘was disturbed by the dominant role of the nobility in the officer corps. He believed officers of this class often gained general staff positions as their birthright rather than any accomplishments on the battlefield.’ ⁶⁸ Given such a perspective, Rommel’s affront at his exclusion from the general staff was to be expected. There is, however, significant evidence to suggest that selection for that august body was in fact largely driven by considerations of merit. Perhaps the key to understanding Rommel’s discontent was his belief that performance on the battlefield should be the prime determinant of ability. By contrast, the general staff placed equal emphasis on achievements in headquarters roles when selecting its future leaders. ⁶⁹

A key element of the positive impact that this posting to the Infantry School had on Rommel’s future career prospects was the connections he made in Dresden. These included: Alexander von Falkenhausen, commandant of the Infantry School when Rommel arrived; Wilhelm List, successor to Falkenhausen as commandant; and Karl-Heinrich von Stülpnagel, head of the training division. ⁷⁰ Selection for the Infantry School therefore gave Rommel an excellent network of influential contacts across the small Reichswehr. This became still more important during the rapid expansion of the army from 1935, as many of these contacts secured influential senior positions.

Moreover, Rommel’s posting to the Infantry School may itself have benefited from existing connections with senior officers. He had long been a protégé of Generalleutnant Eberhard von Hofacker, under whom he had worked when the latter was responsible for the Wurttemberg War Ministry in 1919. ⁷¹ In addition, he was a favourite of Wilhelm List ⁷² from well before the latter’s appointment as commandant of the Infantry School. Indeed, List may have had a direct hand in Rommel’s original appointment to Dresden, since he was head of the Truppenamt’s T4 Heeresausbildungsabteilung (Army Training Branch) in 1929. List’s previous posting had been as commander of III/IR19, a specialist mountain battalion. It seems entirely possible this role had led List to become aware of Rommel, a fellow Wurttemberger and a renowned member of its elite mountain battalion during the recent war.

Rommel’s networking continued after he left Dresden: his battalion command, III/IR17, was the successor unit to Jäger-Bataillon 10 of the Kaiserheer. Guderian had been commissioned into this unit in 1907, had commanded one of its companies between 1920 and 1922, and thereafter maintained close links with it. ⁷³ By 1935, therefore, Rommel had been brought into the army’s establishment and had forged a number of key relationships. He was clearly no outsider, notwithstanding his comments about the general staff.

The Infantry School was designed for the 200 new officers required annually for the Reichswehr. ⁷⁴ Following the reintroduction of conscription in March 1935, it could not provide the flood of subalterns needed for the new Wehrmacht. The four (later five) war schools were the solution, each training 1,000 officer candidates at a time. ⁷⁵ Despite the massive demand for new officers, the training remained rigorous, lasting two years. The tone of the content was also maintained, with a strong focus on tactics. Here, as before, the officer candidates learned to develop their powers of command through field exercises and simulated problems, taking on roles up to battalion commander. ⁷⁶

As an instructor, and then commandant, in these establishments for eight years, Rommel played a key role in the initial training of perhaps a thousand Reichswehr officer candidates and up to 5,000 in the Wehrmacht. By the time he left Wiener Neustadt, therefore, he had instructed perhaps a quarter of all the Active officers in the German army, and a higher proportion still of those below field rank. ⁷⁷ This impact on the thinking of a whole generation of junior officers, unequalled by any of his peers, has been largely overlooked in the historical literature.

Yet Rommel’s influence went even wider than this. In 1934 he published a short instructional handbook, Gefechts-Aufgaben für Zug und Kompagnie (‘Combat problems for platoon and company’). ⁷⁸ This was followed in 1937 by a second volume, Infanterie Greift An! (‘Infantry attacks’). ⁷⁹ This volume brought together a number of pamphlets based on his lecture notes, which drew on his personal experiences during the First World War. ⁸⁰ Although neither book reached a wide audience initially, Infantry Attacks became a textbook at the war schools, ⁸¹ so almost every newly commissioned officer in the Wehrmacht would have been familiar with it and hence its author. One non-military reader was Hitler himself, with favourable consequences for Rommel’s career. ⁸² Here, too, Rommel’s influence on the officer corps through his roles as an instructor helped: Reuth noted one of his students from Dresden, Nicolas von Below, was now Hitler’s Luftwaffe adjutant and presented his former teacher to the Führer as an exemplar of the new generation of officers he was seeking. ⁸³

In summary, therefore, although Rommel was not selected for the general staff and long smarted from the perceived rejection, he secured a series of prestigious postings that played to his strengths. Here, he took a leading role in the early training of successive cohorts of the army’s new officers. His lectures, based on his personal approach to combat, were hugely popular. Far from being controversial, he was regarded with favour by his superiors, and received promotion and further key appointments in the officer training system. Published in book form, his lectures became virtually required reading for all officer candidates. It would be difficult to find a career path closer to the military establishment for an officer who was not a member of the general staff, or one with greater potential to shape the thinking and command approach of junior officers throughout the army. The suggestion Rommel was an outsider should therefore be finally rejected.

III. France, May 1940: Crossing the Meuse at Dinant

Given Rommel’s command approach, as presented in his lectures and books, was received with such favour by the military establishment, it is necessary to identify its key elements.

Significant material is available concerning the crossing of the Meuse at Dinant in May 1940. Apart from Rommel’s own account of events ⁸⁴ and the (generally rather brief) narratives presented by his many biographers, ⁸⁵ the crossing is covered by several histories of both the wider campaign ⁸⁶ and of 7th Panzer Division. ⁸⁷

The broad course of events during the critical period, from 12 to 15 May, is simply outlined. On 12 May, having advanced 115 kilometres through the Ardennes in two and a half days, lead elements of 7th Panzer Division reached the Meuse in the early evening. Attempts to ‘bounce’ the defence failed, however, as the French succeeded in demolishing the bridges at Dinant and Yvoir, the latter as the first enemy scout car was crossing. Nonetheless, men of 8th Reconnaissance Battalion ⁸⁸ became the first Germans to cross the river at any point when they slipped across an unguarded weir at Houx just before midnight. The following day, and despite this success, Rommel decided to focus his efforts on two other crossing sites, one immediately south of Houx and the other just to the north of Dinant. Although the French occupied concrete bunkers along the heights overlooking the river and enjoyed excellent artillery observation, by evening 7th Panzer Division, with only minimal air support, had successfully forced bridgeheads at both points.

On 14 May, Rommel pushed elements of 7th Rifle Regiment forward to Onhaye, 5 kilometres west of Dinant, only to have to rush to their rescue with the few tanks so far ferried across the river when reports suggested they were surrounded. Fortuitously, the news was simply a mishearing of a radio message. Rommel, however, pressed on further, reaching Morville, 12 kilometres beyond the Meuse, by nightfall. The following morning, Rommel’s 25th Panzer Regiment encountered the French 1st Armoured Division at Flavion. Once German reinforcements had arrived, Rommel pushed 7th Panzer Division around the enemy flank and drove headlong westwards, reaching Cerfontaine, 50 kilometres beyond the Meuse. ⁸⁹ Penetration of such depth, coupled with a similar advance by Guderian’s forces from Sedan in the south, caused the French Ninth Army to collapse, tearing a gap in the defensive front over 100 kilometres wide and sowing the seeds of defeat in the minds of France’s leaders.

What of Rommel’s personal command approach? A number of factors have been highlighted in the literature. Fraser noted his tendency to lead from the front, placing himself at the critical point of the battle, and his ‘rapidity and energy’. ⁹⁰ Telp also emphasized Rommel’s leadership from the front, his concern for maintaining momentum, and his personal courage. ⁹¹ Stolfi remarked on his presence, leadership, speed, and relentlessness. ⁹² Showalter commented on Rommel’s aggressive spirit and personal leadership from the front, coupled with a reliance on subordinates to act independently when he was elsewhere. ⁹³ Oetting underlined Rommel’s feel for tactics, his confident leadership from the front, and his overriding drive to advance. ⁹⁴ Sigg highlighted his rapid and aggressive pressure to advance, his leadership from the front, and his willingness to ignore orders if the local situation suggested a better course of action. ⁹⁵ Butler emphasized his focus on attacking the ‘enemy’s will to fight: [through] rapid movement, flanking attacks, concentrated firepower, surprise’. ⁹⁶

Taking these together, and reflecting on the events of these four days, it is here suggested three aspects stand out: his personal presence at the key points of the battle, even in the face of great physical danger; his insistence on speed, both of action and movement, and hence maintaining tempo; and his coolness and decisiveness in the face of unexpected and changing situations.

Rommel’s ubiquitous presence throughout the battle is striking – ‘He keeps appearing there, where it is fiercest.’ ⁹⁷ Wherever events were in doubt, Rommel would soon turn up, make the crucial decision, and lead its implementation from the front. Shuttling between the two crossing points on 13 May, Rommel saw both assaults were coming under heavy fire. At one, he ordered houses set alight to provide a smokescreen. At the other, he brought forward tanks to suppress the defenders. Recognizing the unexpected opportunity for rapid exploitation once the bridgeheads had been achieved, he ordered the engineer battalion to stop building light 8-tonne pontoons and instead focus on the heavier 16-tonne ones that could ferry tanks across. He himself waded into the water to help get the work started. The following day, he personally led the tanks to rescue the advanced infantry believed surrounded at Onhaye. On 15 May, Rommel rode with the tanks of 25th Panzer Regiment as they engaged the French 1st Armoured Division at Flavion. Soon after, he personally led a company of tanks back from the deepest point of the penetration, to establish contact with the infantry following behind. What stands out is both Rommel’s ability to be at the key point at the critical moment – a demonstration of his Fingerspitzengefühl – and his belief in ‘the leader at the schwerpunkt’. Rommel also clearly wanted this practice to be noted by his superiors: in the division’s after-action report, his personal presence at the front is noted in every paragraph of the account for these critical days of battle. ⁹⁸

The personal danger into which Rommel placed himself was significant, as he repeatedly came under enemy fire. He was in one of the first boats to cross the Meuse, in the face of heavy defensive fire. The next day, his tank was hit twice and came to rest, almost on its side, in full view of French anti-tank guns. In both cases, men around him were killed and he himself was slightly wounded. ⁹⁹ Oberleutnant Hans von Luck, a company commander in 37th Reconnaissance Battalion, recorded these actions had a striking effect on the men: ‘“Is Rommel immune?” we asked ourselves.’ ¹⁰⁰

Not only did this extreme visibility of the new divisional commander steady the troops when they wavered in the face of heavy French fire, ¹⁰¹ it allowed Rommel to maintain a rapid tempo of operations. Even though the first German reconnaissance troops only reached the Meuse at 1745 on 12 May, ¹⁰² and made the initial tentative crossing over the weir at Houx just before midnight, Rommel ensured his infantry regiments launched their assaults at 0530 the next morning. This was despite their having had only a few hours, during the middle of the night, in which to prepare orders and move into position. Once the bridgeheads had been gained, he insisted his exhausted infantry push forward through the night, advancing 5 kilometres to reach Onhaye before dawn on 14 May. When it seemed these were surrounded, Rommel’s insistence that tanks be quickly ferried across the river, rather than wait for a bridge to be built, paid dividends, as he could respond immediately with 15 panzers. Again, rather than consolidate at Onhaye after French counter-attacks were repulsed, Rommel advanced at 1930, penetrating a further 7 kilometres to reach Morville at 2230. On 15 May, once 31st Panzer Regiment of 5th Panzer Division had pinned the French 1st Armoured Division at Flavion, Rommel immediately disengaged 7th Panzer Division, pressing on still further westwards, only halting around 1900. ¹⁰³ By then, his troops had advanced 160 kilometres in six days.

Rommel was now operating deep within the French zone of forces, repeatedly crossing new lines of resistance declared by the enemy higher command even before these could be manned by the confused defenders. The 7th Panzer Division had completely lost touch with both the German troops on its flanks and 5th Panzer Division to its rear. Despite this exposed position, Rommel remained entirely calm.

When the initial crossings on 13 May faltered, the assault pioneers declared they could make no further progress: ‘The General [Rommel] does not allow himself to be disconcerted. The word “impossible” does not exist for him. Not even for a second does he hesitate. Control of the action lies with the attacker, he does not allow it to be wrested from him.’ ¹⁰⁴ When French tanks attacked the weak bridgehead, Rommel instantly ordered his men to fire tracer rounds from their machine guns – the enemy thought they faced anti-tank guns and retreated. When his infantry were believed surrounded at Onhaye, Rommel at once set off to relieve them with the few tanks immediately to hand. When he stumbled upon an entire French armoured division, he pushed past as soon as the enemy force was fixed by a following panzer regiment, even though this had only 30 Panzer IIIs and IVs against almost 170 French battle tanks. ¹⁰⁵ As the divisional history recorded, success came from ‘the lightning fast decisiveness of a single man, with the cool head of a leader and the combative heart of a front-line soldier’. ¹⁰⁶

Rommel was clearly comfortable with the tendency of combat to throw up sudden surprises, never allowing these to shake his calm understanding of the battle and sure-footed control of his forces in order to seize every opportunity. This was a decisive factor in the ability of 7th Panzer Division to make progress, when it would have been easy for the advance to bog down. ¹⁰⁷ Fraser suggested Rommel recognized:

the pace of offensive battle is set by the decision of the commander, and that there is one critical point only where the decision can be taken – the point of contact. No man has ever been more alive to the importance of opportunism in battle. No man has ever been more conscious of time, of the fleeting nature of opportunity, of the rapidity with which the commander must act or react. ¹⁰⁸

How did Rommel’s superiors react to these bold moves by their newest panzer division commander? On 13 May, Rommel returned to his divisional headquarters after one of his frequent visits to the attempted river crossings to find both his immediate superior, General der Infanterie Hermann Hoth (XV Motorized Corps), and the army commander, Generaloberst Hans-Günther von Kluge (Fourth Army). The meeting appears to have been intended purely to ensure Hoth and Kluge understood the situation, rather than to reflect any lack of confidence in their impetuous subordinate. ¹⁰⁹

After the Meuse had been crossed, Rommel’s behaviour became especially bold, but, notwithstanding Sigg’s negative comments about ‘wilfulness’, ¹¹⁰ there is no sense he acted without the full support of his commanders. At 0900 on 14 May, Hoth gave Rommel command of the elements of 5th Panzer Division that had managed to cross the Meuse, ignoring the complaints of that division’s commander. ¹¹¹ On 16 May, Kluge again visited Rommel’s headquarters and ‘gave complete approval to our plan’. ¹¹² A few days later, on Hitler’s personal instruction, Rommel was awarded the Knight’s Cross, one of Germany’s highest military honours. ¹¹³ After the campaign had been won, Hoth, in XV Motorized Corps’s after-action report, particularly focused on the exploits of 7th Panzer Division, emphasizing his own efforts to ensure it pressed forward quickly and deeply into the enemy forces, and the contribution this made to the campaign as a whole. ¹¹⁴ Similarly, Kluge, commenting on the draft unofficial history of the division’s experiences, ended his letter with the words: ‘Be reassured, my dear Rommel, that I will always remember with especial thanks my experience with the 7th Panzer Division, and especially with you, and nothing would be dearer to me than were I to find this especially valued formation under my command again.’ ¹¹⁵

Had Rommel been perceived as acting unacceptably outside the German doctrine, there was ample opportunity for his superiors to rein him in. Neither Hoth nor Kluge did so; indeed they reinforced his successes at the expense of other formations, which suggests they regarded his behaviour as entirely acceptable. His actions may have left his own superiors as uncertain of 7th Panzer Division’s location as were his opponents, but the outstanding results that came from this behaviour gave him the right to continue in that same vein. ¹¹⁶

IV. Caporetto, October 1917: Capturing Mount Matajur

As noted above, the literature reflects a general consensus that Rommel, lacking direct experience with armoured forces until taking up command of 7th Panzer Division, drew heavily upon his experience as a mountain infantryman during the First World War. The analysis above has demonstrated that the key features of his approach during the Meuse battle were his personal presence and intervention at the key points of the engagement, his emphasis on speed and hence tempo, and his calmness in the face of the chaos and opportunity of battle. It is therefore necessary to explore whether these did indeed similarly characterize his technique two decades earlier, when serving with the Königliches Württembergisches Gebirgs-Bataillon (Royal Wurttemberg Mountain Battalion) (hereafter WMB).

In contrast to France in 1940, the sources for Rommel’s experiences during the First World War are more limited, with most biographers ¹¹⁷ principally relying on the account in Infantry Attacks. ¹¹⁸ Yet, there is rather more evidence available. The WMB’s immediate after-action report, written by its commander, Major Theodor Sprösser, survives. ¹¹⁹ Sprösser also edited a history of the unit after the war. ¹²⁰ More broadly, the brief account in the German official history, Der Weltkrieg, ¹²¹ was complemented by a volume in the Reichsarchiv series Schlachten des Weltkrieges (Battles of the World War). Written by Konrad Krafft von Dellmensingen, who had raised the Alpenkorps in late 1914 and served as chief of staff of the Fourteenth Army during the battle, this presented a detailed account of the capture of Mount Matajur, mentioning Rommel by name. ¹²² Beyond these German sources, for many years there was only one operational account of Caporetto in English, by Cyril Falls, which gave limited space to the actions in which Rommel was involved and was for these based largely on Infantry Attacks. ¹²³ John and Eileen Wilks, however, recently published an account of the wider battle, and Rommel’s part in it, which draws on the extensive Italian literature, thereby allowing the interaction between the opponents to be understood. ¹²⁴

Before considering the events of October 1917, however, brief mention should be made of the unusual character of the WMB. Despite its name, it was little smaller than a regiment, possessing six infantry companies and six machine-gun platoons, ¹²⁵ organized into three machine-gun companies. Sprösser normally allocated these into two or three Abteilungen (detachments) of varying size and composition, dependent upon the nature of the mission. ¹²⁶ As Infantry Attacks and the unit history both make clear, although Rommel was formally only a company commander, he usually had responsibility for one of these detachments – in effect, a small battalion.

The capture of Mount Matajur represented the pinnacle of Rommel’s war record: ¹²⁷ as an instructor between the wars, he was to recount his part in it more than 300 times. ¹²⁸ The broad course of the events, from 24 to 26 October, is simply outlined. ¹²⁹ On 24 October, advancing in the first wave of the attack, the Rommel Detachment found the Italian front line shattered by the artillery bombardment. Moving silently into the defensive zone, Rommel repeatedly manoeuvred around Italian posts, until he reached the summit of Mount Hlevnik. Coming under artillery fire, he advanced yet further, penetrating more than a mile into the Italian position, halting only as night fell. The following day, 25 October, moving off before dawn, the Rommel Detachment crept along the northern slopes of the Kolovrat ridge. After a mile and a half, Rommel launched a surprise assault, causing the defenders to surrender immediately. Advancing further, he forced an entire battalion of the Italian 213th Regiment on Mount Nagnoj to yield, manoeuvring one of his companies to its rear. Now well behind the Italian lines, Rommel’s men moved at a run to block the road to the village of Luico. Here, they surprised a complete brigade (14th and 20th Bersaglieri Regiments) on the march, taking 2,000 men prisoner.

This phase of the attack culminated on 26 October. Moving through the night, Rommel led his men towards Mount Cragonza, which he seized through a sudden assault. Maintaining his rapid tempo, he surprised the Italian defenders of Mount Mrzli and, armed only with a white handkerchief, persuaded three battalions of the 89th Regiment to surrender. Although ordered to withdraw, due to a misunderstanding of the situation by Sprösser, Rommel pressed on with just 100 men towards the ultimate prize of Mount Matajur, the lynchpin of the entire Italian position. Making good use of his trusty handkerchief, Rommel persuaded its garrison, 1,200 men of the 90th Regiment, to lay down their arms. This brought his total haul of prisoners in three days to over 9,000, along with 81 guns, at the cost of just 6 dead and 30 men wounded.

The first characteristic of Rommel’s approach in May 1940 was his personal presence and intervention at the key points of the engagement. Given that, at Mount Matajur, he commanded a force never larger than seven companies and at one point comprising only 100 men, ¹³⁰ moving by foot over mountain terrain, the scope for him to move between different areas of the battlefield was limited.

Nonetheless, although Rommel repeatedly led the way personally, it is clear this was through calculated intent, rather than mere bravado. On the morning of 24 October, he reconnoitred at the head of his column as it advanced towards Mount Hlevnik, to ensure full advantage was taken of the available cover to outflank the Italian position. ¹³¹ At other times, he placed himself behind the point platoon, to respond quickly as the situation became clear. ¹³² In combat, his personal presence in securing a successful result was vital. On 25 October, when blocking the road to Luico, Rommel stood in front of his positions and waved his handkerchief to convince the surprised Italian marching column to surrender, though a fierce firefight was required before 2,000 men capitulated. ¹³³ The following day, on Mount Mrzli, Rommel again led his men, handkerchief in hand, against 1,500 Italians. This time, the defenders panicked and surrendered without a shot. ¹³⁴ Finally, later the same day, the handkerchief yet again proved decisive, when Rommel captured the stunned Salerno Brigade. ¹³⁵

At each stage of the battle, therefore, Rommel carefully determined where he should position himself. This was not without personal danger. Rommel noted an occasion when, while undertaking a visual reconnaissance, an Italian machine gun ‘frequently obliged me to abandon my observations and dive for cover’. ¹³⁶ The risks Rommel took when using his handkerchief to precipitate repeated Italian surrenders were extreme. His physical bravery and willingness to lead from the front were hardly in doubt.

The second characteristic of Rommel’s approach in 1940 was his insistence on speed and the maintenance of tempo. This was repeatedly displayed during the fighting around Mount Matajur. As darkness fell on 24 October, Rommel ordered his men, in action since daybreak, ¹³⁷ to undertake combat reconnaissance during the night. Presenting his plan to Sprösser as soon as the latter reached the position at 0500, Rommel set off again before dawn. ¹³⁸ During the intense fighting over the following two days, Rommel repeatedly emphasized speed and good use of time: tempo. On Mount Nagnoj and the Kolovrat ridge, he noted, ‘A second’s delay might have snatched away the victory which lay in our grasp. . . . Seconds separated us from our fate.’ ¹³⁹ Later that day, he noted the importance of giving the Italians as little time as possible to dig in, while ensuring the time available was used by his own men for thorough preparation of the planned attack. ¹⁴⁰

Perhaps the most striking example of Rommel’s emphasis on tempo was when he cut the road to Luico, well behind the Italian lines. He recorded how he

tore down the road with the head of my detachment. [The Italians] were all paralyzed by our sudden appearance. We rushed on [and caused the garrison of Ravna to flee]. We followed right on their heels. . . . I did not wish to lose momentum . . . but wanted to act rapidly and in a decisive direction. There was no time for lengthy deliberations. . . . We moved on at the double! ¹⁴¹

Nightfall offered no respite to the frenetic pace. Although the detachment had bivouacked, a report from a patrol that a key village ahead was undefended led Rommel to set off again immediately. ¹⁴²

This focus on maintaining pace meant Rommel kept his men moving for 52 hours. During this time they marched 12 miles on the map, ascending 8,000 feet and descending 3,000 feet in the process, carrying heavy equipment and engaging in heavy fighting. ¹⁴³

Rommel’s third characteristic in 1940 was his calmness and decisiveness in the face of the chaos and opportunity of battle. Again, this was foreshadowed in 1917. Early on 25 October, he surprised the Italian garrison of the Kolovrat ridge, silently infiltrating their positions. After initial gains, the Italians responded: ‘A few minutes had sufficed to change the situation completely in our disfavour and to make it very serious.’ Far from becoming disconcerted, however, Rommel immediately manoeuvred his forces against the rear of the Italian units. After a brief fight, an entire enemy battalion surrendered. ¹⁴⁴

Later that same day, having broken into the Italian position at Ravna, Rommel reached a knoll giving a splendid view into the depths of the enemy zone: ‘I did not wish to lose momentum in Ravna but wanted to act rapidly and in a decisive direction. There was no time for lengthy deliberations. I rapidly weighed the three lines of action open to me.’ These options were to either broaden the gap in the Italian line by attacking Mount Kuk to Rommel’s right, seize the Luico Pass to open the way for the German 12th Division, or cut off the Italian forces in Luico itself. He quickly rejected the first, as Mount Kuk would soon fall anyway, and the second, as it would leave the enemy in Luico able to withdraw. Rommel therefore settled upon the third, and riskiest, option, as it would create a situation in which ‘the encircled enemy could not have avoided annihilation or capture’. Despite concerns that his force was dangerously dispersed, he did not hesitate but immediately headed into the depths of the Italian position ¹⁴⁵ – an action one historian assessed as moving ‘beyond bold into the brash, and possibly slightly crazy’. ¹⁴⁶

The following day, Rommel’s awareness of the need to seize opportunities was shown again at Mount Mrzli. Faced by three Italian battalions, yet accompanied by only a handful of his own men, he would have been forgiven for hesitating. Instead, he felt ‘forced to act before the adversary decided to do something . . . I had the impression that I must not stand still or we were lost.’ Advancing towards the silent enemy, Rommel’s boldness caused panic among the defenders, with the entire formation throwing away its weapons and even shooting an officer who hesitated to surrender. ¹⁴⁷

The final example of Rommel’s boldness came at Mount Matajur itself. Advancing from Mount Mrzli, Rommel was ordered to pull back by Spösser, who assumed the mass of prisoners taken by the detachment meant the objective had already been taken. For once, Rommel took a few moments to ponder the situation, during which time all but 100 of his men withdrew. Then he reached a decision: ‘No! The battalion order was given without knowledge of the situation . . . Unfinished business remained.’ Vigorous action by his small remaining force allowed him to seize the key objective, taking 1,200 prisoners in the process. ¹⁴⁸

The characteristics Rommel displayed as a Generalmajor commanding a panzer division in May 1940 – his personal presence and intervention at the key points of the engagement, his emphasis on speed and tempo, and his calmness and decisiveness in the face of the chaos and opportunity of battle – were indeed apparent when he was an Oberleutnant commanding a group of mountain infantry companies in October 1917.

As with the crossing of the Meuse in 1940, it is necessary to consider the response of Rommel’s superiors to his bold actions. First, it is clear he sought to maintain close contact with Sprösser during the battle. A recurring theme throughout Infantry Attacks is Rommel’s constant attention to communications, with his signals detachment often making extraordinary efforts to lay telephone wires during even the boldest of penetrations. For example, during the night of 24/25 October, the signals company was for once unable to maintain the connection. ¹⁴⁹ Rommel, smarting at an attempt by Major Count Bothmer, commander of the neighbouring Bavarian III Bataillon, Infanterie-Leib-Regiment (Life Guards), to issue orders to the Rommel Detachment, nonetheless waited until Sprösser arrived and then sought his approval for the manoeuvre plan he had hatched during the night. ¹⁵⁰ Sprösser asked Rommel what he suggested should happen next, then challenged him to explain his reasoning. Satisfied, Sprösser instructed Rommel to proceed, twice telling him to ‘try his luck’. Rommel raised the issue of Bothmer’s orders, only to be told to let Sprösser worry about that. ¹⁵¹ Rommel noted Sprösser and Bothmer ‘reached an understanding’. ¹⁵² As he moved out, Rommel ‘as always’ took pains to ensure a telephone cable was laid behind him, maintaining communications with Sprösser’s command post. ¹⁵³

The one occasion when Rommel acted directly contrary to his orders was immediately prior to the capture of Mount Matajur. Ordered by Sprösser to withdraw, Rommel disobeyed on the basis that the order had been given without knowledge of the situation, and hence obedience would threaten the prescribed mission. ¹⁵⁴ Sprösser made clear his view of Rommel’s actions: ‘A tremendous effort by the commander and his troops, outstanding in its dedication and effort, in its exceptional initiative and nerve!’ ¹⁵⁵ This assessment was reflected by Krafft: ‘The achievement of the Rommel Detachment shines out brightly in its perseverance, cheerful impetus, skill and initiative.’ ¹⁵⁶ As was to be the case in 1940, success clearly wrote its own rules.

V. German Doctrine

Having considered the nature of Rommel’s approach to combat and demonstrated the continuity between his practice in 1917 and 1940, we must consider the relationship between his practice and the doctrine set out in the army’s military regulations. As has been noted, while recent historians have rejected the orthodoxy of the earlier post-war literature, that Rommel was a maverick operating far outside the doctrine, there remains significant disagreement over whether his approach was within the mainstream or at its furthest margins. ¹⁵⁷

Rommel was commissioned on 27 January 1912. ¹⁵⁸ Two of his key guides would have been the Exerzier-Reglement für die Infanterie (ExRfdI) (‘Infantry drill regulations’) ¹⁵⁹ and the Felddienst-Ordnung (FO) (‘Field service regulations’). ¹⁶⁰ The ExRfdI 1906 represented a decisive step forward from the ExRfdI 1888. ¹⁶¹ The new regulations reflected developments in modern weapons technology, ¹⁶² notably the Russo-Japanese War of 1905–6. Central to the new manual’s approach was a strong emphasis on the need for commanders to ensure orders expressed their intent (Absicht) clearly, while leaving the choice of means open to the initiative of their subordinates. In this way, the concept of Auftragstaktik (directive command or mission command) was embedded within the German doctrinal manuals. ¹⁶³

Taking the first of the three characteristics displayed by Rommel, his personal presence at the critical point, the ExRfdI 1906 was clear the place of the officer (implied as up to battalion commander level) was in or close behind the front line. This was based on the need for him to exert direct influence on the troops and to have personal knowledge of the terrain and enemy situation. ¹⁶⁴ Although there was little specific reference in either the ExRfdI or the FO to Rommel’s second characteristic (the need for commanders to maintain a rapid tempo of operations), the emphasis on the need for field officers to position themselves close behind the troops would have resulted in a quick reaction time and hence a high tempo. ¹⁶⁵

Rommel’s third characteristic, his calmness and decisiveness in the face of the chaos and opportunity of battle, aligned closely with the doctrine. Both the FO and the ExRfdI were clear the inherent nature of warfare meant unexpected situations would inevitably arise. This meant fixed rules could not be given and the orders received by officers would often be no longer relevant by the time they came to be implemented. To counter this friction, the manuals stated higher commanders should restrict themselves to setting out in their orders only so much detail as was absolutely required by their subordinates, while making their overall intent completely clear. Equally, those subordinates should use their own initiative and knowledge of the situation to select the most appropriate means by which to carry out those orders, including disregarding orders if events had made these no longer suited to the situation. ¹⁶⁶

The doctrine was alive to the associated risks and tensions. Both manuals stated explicitly that ‘omission and neglect is a greater fault than a mistake in the choice of means’. Both also underlined the need for commanders to promote independence and a willingness to take on responsibility on the part of their subordinates, deemed ‘the most important characteristic of command’. ¹⁶⁷ Conversely, the ExRfdI also immediately emphasized ‘the independence of subordinates must not become arbitrariness’ or the replacement of obedience by a sense of ‘knowing better’. ¹⁶⁸ Nonetheless, the regulations gave a clear support for what Robert Citino argued was the central core of the German approach to command from the time of Frederick the Great: ‘the German officer who acted aggressively would be confident that he was acting in the best traditions of the service’. ¹⁶⁹

Although the conditions of trench warfare experienced in the First World War, especially on the Western Front, differed from pre-war expectations, Erich von Falkenhayn did little to revise the formal training regulations. It was only after his replacement in August 1916 by Paul von Hindenburg, supported by Eric Ludendorff, that an extensive series of new manuals for position warfare was developed. ¹⁷⁰

One of these was the Ausbildungsvorschrift für die Fußtruppen im Kriege (AVF) (‘Training regulations for the foot troops in war’), first published in January 1917 and revised in January 1918. ¹⁷¹ Since the pre-war regulations were considered to have dealt with situations of mobile warfare in a satisfactory manner, few changes were required in this area. The new manual therefore primarily replaced Part I of the ExRfdI 1906, which set out the method of training, rather than deal with the command of troops in combat. ¹⁷² Although there was a section on the duties of leaders at various levels, this focused on their roles as trainers of their troops, rather than as commanders, though the 1918 edition did repeat the pre-war emphasis on the purpose of training being to develop independently thinking and acting leaders and men. ¹⁷³ Since the WMB was primarily employed during 1917 on the Romanian and Italian fronts, where position warfare was the exception, the impact of the AVF on Rommel’s practice may have been limited. Similarly, although the pace and extent of doctrinal development with regard to position warfare were very significant, ¹⁷⁴ the very different context of the operations in which Rommel was engaged means it may well have passed him by.

Under the Reichswehr, a new doctrine emerged from extensive analysis of the German army’s experiences during the First World War. ¹⁷⁵ For Rommel, the two key manuals were HDv 487: Führung und Gefecht der verbundenen Waffen (Das FuG) (‘Command and combat of the combined arms’), ¹⁷⁶ which replaced the pre-war FO, and HDv 130: Ausbildungsvorschrift für die Infanterie (AVI 1922) ¹⁷⁷ (‘Training regulations for the infantry’), which replaced both the AVF 1918 and the ExRfdI 1906. ¹⁷⁸ Compared to the pre-war regulations, the interdependence and consistency between Das FuG and the AVI were much clearer, with the latter noting explicitly that the general principles of combat were laid out in the former, and referring commanders to that manual. ¹⁷⁹

Taking the first characteristic of Rommel’s approach, his personal presence at the critical point, the post-war doctrine was clear that this was an essential requirement of success. Das FuG stated: ‘It is of the greatest importance that commanders at all levels constantly maintain personal touch with the troops placed under them. This enables them to make a correct assessment, through first-hand knowledge, of the needs and combat capabilities of their soldiers.’ ¹⁸⁰ This was reinforced in the section on the position of the commander, ¹⁸¹ which was referenced by both the main AVI ¹⁸² and its later supplement on command at battalion and regimental level. ¹⁸³ Here, the manual stated even divisional commanders should be constantly among their troops, far forward. Again, this also related to Rommel’s second characteristic – his emphasis on speed and momentum, and hence tempo. The AVI was clear: ‘Every military action must be based on surprise. Without surprise, great results are hard to secure.’ ¹⁸⁴

The third characteristic of Rommel’s approach – his calmness and decisiveness in the face of the chaos and opportunity of battle – was also clearly expressed in the new regulations. Das FuG stated ‘a formulaic approach . . . would be counter to the many-faceted nature of war’ and ‘The situation will rarely be so clear as to give an exact insight into the situation of the enemy. Uncertainty in war is the norm’, such that results might well appear at a different point from that intended. ¹⁸⁵ Consequently, the doctrine emphasized the need for commanders at all levels to remain calm and provide a role model to their troops. ¹⁸⁶ This linked to a requirement for commanders to be ‘trained to a willingness to take on responsibility, as well as independently thinking and acting subordinates . . . Everywhere, every spiritual and physical resource must be expressed through independence.’ ¹⁸⁷ Ultimately, the doctrine noted, ‘Willingness to accept responsibility remains the most important quality of a leader. All leaders must constantly bear in mind, and emphasize to their subordinates, that neglect and carelessness will weigh more heavily against them than error in the choice of means.’ ¹⁸⁸ As in the pre-war manuals, the risks inherent in this approach were recognized: ‘Spontaneity and a willingness to accept responsibility must not lead to arbitrary decisions being taken without reference to the wider picture or to a sense of knowing better replacing obedience. Applied within the proper boundaries, these provide the basis for great success in war.’ ¹⁸⁹

At the insistence of Hans von Seeckt, the head of the Reichswehr, the doctrine set out in Das FuG and the AVI remained current for more than a decade. ¹⁹⁰ Das FuG was replaced in 1933 by HDv 300: Truppenführung (TF) (‘Unit command’), ¹⁹¹ while a new edition of the AVI was issued in a series of volumes from 1935 onwards.

The new manuals continued the shift, seen in Das FuG and the AVI 1922, whereby the focus of the AVI 1935 was on the practicalities of training and combat, while TF addressed the approach and philosophy through which these were to be undertaken. Nonetheless, the AVI 1935 repeated points made in earlier editions. For example, the volume on the rifle company underlined that commanders should position themselves where they could ensure personal influence over their men, often through their personal behaviour, as well as obtain good observation of the battlefield. The approach was maintained that the orders received by commanders at this level should lay down the mission to be achieved, while leaving the choice of means open. ¹⁹² The emphasis on the need for commanders to gain personal observation of the ground to be fought over was retained in the volume on the infantry battalion. ¹⁹³ This was combined with instructions that commanders should place themselves at the critical points of the battle, often far to the front, and thereby rapidly secure advantages through personal intervention. ¹⁹⁴ The importance of securing surprise was also highlighted. ¹⁹⁵ All these elements of the revised AVI were fully consistent with Rommel’s characteristic presence in the front line, his emphasis on speed to secure surprise and tempo, and his focus on seizing the opportunities presented by the chaos of battle.

By contrast, TF was more concerned with the way in which commanders should exercise their role and secure dominance over the enemy. Rommel’s preference for being personally present at the critical point of the battle was again fully in accordance with TF. It repeatedly underlined the commander must be far to the front, with the troops and often with the advanced guard. In this way, he could personally influence the troops and maintain a sound understanding of the situation. That this was not merely an exhortation to officers of field rank was made clear by reference to commanders at corps and (especially) divisional level. ¹⁹⁶

The second characteristic of Rommel’s approach – his emphasis on surprise, momentum, and hence tempo – was also expressed clearly. TF noted, ‘Favourable situations must be quickly recognized and decisively exploited. Every advantage over the enemy increases one’s own freedom of action.’ ¹⁹⁷ To this end, ‘Surprise is a decisive factor in success. Actions based on surprise are only successful if the enemy is given no time to take effective counter measures.’ ¹⁹⁸ Commanders were therefore urged not to wait for clarification of an uncertain situation and to make decisions quickly. ¹⁹⁹

Finally, Rommel’s calmness and decisiveness in the face of the chaos and opportunity of battle exactly matched the spirit desired by the new doctrine. TF was clear that warfare was inherently chaotic, with friction and errors occurring constantly, producing ‘combat situations . . . of an unlimited variety [that] change frequently and suddenly and can seldom be assessed in advance’. ²⁰⁰ Orders were therefore to set out the mission, but leave the choice of means open. ²⁰¹ To deal with these demands, ‘leaders must be impervious to the changes in the fortunes of war’. This required officers who could ‘think and act independently, who [could] make calculated, decisive, and daring use of every situation, and who [could] understand that victory depends on each individual’. ²⁰² It noted, ‘Everyone, from the highest commander down to the youngest soldier, must constantly be aware that inaction and neglect incriminate him more severely than any error in the choice of means.’ ²⁰³

VI. Conclusions

The literature on Rommel is vast. He has been the subject of more biographies than perhaps any other officer in German military history and his actions provide the central thread for many accounts of the two world wars. For the first three decades after 1945, this literature was characterized by two largely unquestioned assumptions. First, Rommel’s success was a consequence of his innate military genius. An outsider to the German military establishment, he escaped the deadening constraints of its doctrine and, instead, operated with a boldness and flexibility that bewildered his enemies, leaving his superiors infuriated at his disobedience. Second, his lack of experience of armoured forces meant his success with 7th Panzer Division in May 1940 was the result of his applying tactics he had used twenty years earlier, as a subaltern in the elite Wurttemberg Mountain Battalion, rather than from understanding the nature of armoured warfare.

First challenged by David Irving in 1977, this picture has subsequently been significantly revised, especially with regard to the extent to which Rommel was a maverick outsider to the German military establishment. There remains debate, however, over whether his approach to command was consistent with the army’s doctrine or was at best only at its fringes. In addition, while the continuity between his approach in Italy in 1917 and in France in 1940 is generally accepted, this has been subjected to only limited analysis.

This article has shown that, throughout the 1930s, Rommel occupied positions at the centre of the army’s officer education system. He was thereby a key figure in the basic leadership and tactical training of a very significant proportion of the young officers who led the army during the first years of the Second World War. While his charisma and ability as a teacher are clear, the popularity of his lectures and the success within the German military establishment of his books on tactics, especially Infantry Attacks, were only possible because the views he expressed were fully consistent with the army’s doctrine and so enjoyed official support.

Turning to Rommel’s command practice, detailed examination of his experiences at Caporetto in October 1917 and in the crossing of the Meuse in May 1940 suggests there were indeed strong continuities. These can be encapsulated in three characteristics: his personal presence at the key points of the battle, his insistence on speed, both of action and movement, in order to achieve tempo, and his coolness in the face of unexpected and changing situations. In both battles, Rommel’s behaviour repeatedly demonstrated these defining features.

This article has also shown it is simplistic to suggest these continuities merely reflected Rommel’s attempts to deal with an unknown situation by applying tactics with which he was more familiar. Examination of the German army’s primary doctrinal manuals shows the features of his practice in both battles were entirely consistent with their expectations. Throughout successive iterations of the doctrine over almost thirty years, the key characteristics of Rommel’s approach aligned with the manuals’ teachings. Far from struggling to escape the doctrine, it pushed him further along the route he had already chosen, and may have encouraged him down that route in the first place – we should perhaps see Rommel as the most perfect product of the doctrine, rather than as seeking to escape its deadening rigidity.

Finally, however, Rommel’s clear adherence to the German army’s doctrine serves to highlight the great tension that lay within it, between commanders displaying independence, within the context of the whole, or descending into wilfulness, disregarding the wider context. It has been noted how Rommel’s behaviour in 1940 was characterized by Sigg as representing ‘überbietende Eigenmächtigkeiten’ (‘surpassing wilfulness’), breaking out completely from the scope of his orders. ²⁰⁴ Yet, as Citino has shown, this was fully consistent with the German military culture over the previous three centuries, where ‘even getting [a commander] to follow the mission was difficult enough’. ²⁰⁵ Against enemies as fragile and inflexible as the Italians in 1917 and the French in 1940, the risks (personal and tactical) this involved were justified and brought success. But against a more resilient foe, this emphasis on independence at the expense of the wider plan might not be sound.

Accordingly, if Rommel’s command approach throughout his career up to May 1940 represents a near perfect example of the German army’s command doctrine in practice, his behaviour thereafter provides a case study of the limits of that doctrine. As has been noted, even some of his closest associates suggested Rommel forever remained at heart the decisive lieutenant of 1917. ²⁰⁶ Appointed to command the Deutsches Afrika Corps in February 1941, Rommel fundamentally misunderstood the strategic purpose of his mission, assuming it to be actively offensive rather than merely intended to hold back the British advances. Rather than seek clarity, he instead repeatedly deliberately ignored explicit instructions from the German higher command, descending into what Reuth termed ‘wishful thinking [rather] than realistic consideration’ of the situation. ²⁰⁷ While his brilliance initially secured repeated victories against the British, his limited understanding of the operational level of war meant those very characteristics that made him such an effective independent tactical commander caused him to place his own interpretation of the situation above that of his superiors and, ultimately, lead his army to destruction. ²⁰⁸

Even within the official manuals, there had long been evidence of a concern that the accepted culture might have its limits. As TF noted, repeating a mantra given in almost every iteration of the German doctrine since before Rommel was first commissioned:

Willingness to accept responsibility is the most important quality of a leader. It should not, however, be based upon individualism without consideration of the whole, nor used as a justification for failing to carry out orders where seeming to know better may affect obedience. Independence of spirit must not become arbitrariness. By contrast, independence of action within acceptable boundaries is the key to great success. ²⁰⁹