Out of all the men that arrived at Aalten, fewer than 300 were veterans with combat jump experience. The baron was buoyed by the fact that out of those with combat experience, approximately 150 of them were veterans from his old 6.Falschirmjäeger-Regiment, had managed to sneak their way into the battle group. The soldiers who lacked even a minimum of fighting spirit were replaced with dependable volunteers that were picked from the jump school at Aalten. Some of these men, however, had yet to make their first parachute jump. Although there were adequate numbers on paper for the mission, the battle group was far from an experienced and cohesive combat force.
During his previous meeting with the 6.Panzer-Army commander, von der Heydte had attempted to coordinate several issues. The lack of concern or support for Operation Stoesser, and Dietrich’s drunken state, had prevented all of the issues from being raised, but von der Heydte was able to get two items resolved. Upon inadvertently learning of Skorzeny and Operation Greif, von der Heydte requested a boundary between Skorzeny’s forces and his own men to de-conflict the two operations and avoid any fratricide. Part of his rationale seems to also stem from a distaste for the nature of the operation, the SS, and Skorzeny himself and perhaps a desire to avoid being caught up in potential war crimes.
The request was approved and a boundary was drawn separating the two units, keeping the Greif forces away from Stoesser. Additionally, von der Heydte requested and received a forward observer team from the 12.SS-Panzer-Division with long-range radios. This team would be able to call for much-needed fire support from the division’s long-range artillery battery when it got within range, as well as coordinate the link-up of force. This request was likewise approved.
One that was not was von der Heydte’s request for backup communications. Having observed American paratroopers employ carrier pigeons in Normandy, the baron requested that these be obtained for his Kampfgruppe in the event the radios were lost or damaged. Dietrich’s reply was typical of the tone of the entire coordination meeting: I am leading a Panzer-Army without pigeons and I am not running a zoo; you should be able to lead your Kampfgruppe without pigeons. Much to his later regret, von der Heydte never got the pigeons. Anyway, the required weapons, clothing, and equipment became available and were issued to the companies on December 13. Long-range radio sets were issued to communicate with the 6.Panzer-Army headquarters and with the firing batteries of the 12.SS-Panzer-Division artillery. Parachutes for the jump were being assembled at a camp near the departure airfields for the mission.
Other than being denied pigeons for backup communications, and is an inherently light force, the Stoesser units did not have significant equipment problems. Then, on December 13, the Stoesser battle group was ordered to move to their holding area at the Senne Lager. As a result of security precautions, the paratroopers were apparently unexpected at the camp; there was no room for them. Amazingly, von der Heydte was forced to contact an old civilian friend and arrange for billeting in houses in the nearby village of Oerlinghausen. To add to the confusion, von der Heydte was told he would be flying out of two airfields, Senne I and Senne II. However, these airfields were only a dream in some staff planners’ heads, as they had yet to be built. The Stoesser battle group was not able to conduct any type of training or rehearsals for its mission in the few days available before the offensive. There was barely enough time to organize the companies and issue equipment. Many of the soldiers were recent transfers from the Luftwaffe’s ground elements and lacked even basic infantry skills.
Von der Heydte described the training status of his battlegroup: in the last five days before the operation began, many men had to be taught the most rudimentary elements of infantry combat and behavior under fire. My company commanders were constantly amazed at the lack of knowledge of the troops. The men of the battle group finally learned of their real mission just over 24 hours before H-Hour, after they had been assembled for the jump at the departure airfields, now at Paderborn and Lippespringe. Despite von der Heydte’s problems, his supporting Luftwaffe transport squadrons were in far worse shape.
The Ju-52 transport aircraft of the Luftwaffe unit assigned on December 13 to support von der Heydte, Transport-Geschwader 3, were available in sufficient numbers to transport and drop almost the entire battle group in one lift, and trained pilots were not part of this group. Most of the pilots were fresh from flight school. Seventy percent of them were not even qualified on the Ju-52 aircraft. There had been almost no training on formation flying or conducting airborne operations for the air units, not to mention night flying and navigation. As a result of security considerations, the commanders of the hastily formed air group were told they would be supporting a training jump and not a combat operation over enemy lines. They did not discover the truth until their first coordination meeting with von der Heydte on December 13. There was no time to conduct joint training or rehearsals for this critical part of the Operation. However, several measures were coordinated to aid the Luftwaffe pilots in navigating to the drop zone.
First, the route from the airfield in Paderborn to the front would be lit by ground searchlights to guide the transports on the first leg of their flight. Near the front; tracer fire from anti-aircraft batteries along the flanks would substitute for the searchlights. Additionally, the transports themselves would drop flares to illuminate their own positions and allow the pilots to form into columns. A special Ju-88 bomber from a night-flying squadron would precede the transports by 15 minutes and mark the drop zone with incendiary bombs. The transports would then travel the last leg with their navigation lights on and would continue to drop flares over the drop zone itself once the drop commenced. It was hoped that the measures would overcome the handicaps of the air units and permit an accurate drop. As an added touch to assist Operation Stoesser and confuse as to the size and nature of the operation, over 300 dummies would be dropped after the paratroop jump, as a deception effort over the areas around Camp Elsenborn, Spa, and Stavelot. It was anticipated that these dummy paratroopers would initially draw some attention away from the real Stoesser force.
Despite these measures, the Kampfgruppe von der Heydte and the supporting Luftwaffe units were not prepared to execute Operation Stoeser with any degree of success. Similar to Operation Greif, a concept that sounded great on the planning map had turned into a potential disaster. The commanders of Operations Greif and Stoesser both attempted to abort their planned missions before the start of the offensive. Both perceived a very low probability of success in accomplishing their missions. As a result, Skorzeny and von der Heydte both approached their higher headquarters and requested the cancellation of the missions. Skorzeny was infuriated when he learned that on October 25, an OKW message requesting English-speaking volunteers for special duty under his command had been distributed to all front-line units on the Western Front.
He correctly assumed that the message would inevitably fall into enemy hands and thus compromise and doom his mission, (the 1st Canadian Army learned of the request on November 30, 1944, but surprisingly, the Allied intelligence apparatus did not react to it). He dictated a violent protest to the FHQ and recommended calling the whole thing off. His request never made it directly to Hitler. Sometime later Skorzeny got the opportunity to mention the incident to Hitler. He claims to have been told by Hitler: it’s idiotic, but it has been done; we cannot hold up your operation now.
During the preparation for Greif, after the personnel and equipment deficiencies had all but rendered the original 150.Panzer-Brigade mission moot, and the possibility of mission compromise was high, Skorzeny summed up his attitude when he stated that we realized we were being asked the impossible, but we had stressed the point to the Fuehrer when the plan was first mooted and so our consciences were clear. Operation Greif would go onward. Likewise, upon learning of his real mission, and assessing the combat effectiveness of his force and that of his Luftwaffe support, Oberst von der Heydte decided to request the cancellation of Operation Stoesser. After getting nowhere through Luftwaffe channels, he went directly to Army Group B headquarters at Münstereifel to speak to field marshal Model, his operational commander. Von der Heydte described his visit as follows: the field marshal was still asleep after having worked throughout the night meanwhile, his chief-of-staff, Gen Krebs, acquainted me with the plans and objectives of the attack. When I told him that the commander of my transport groups, as well as myself, had serious doubts about the success of a parachute drop, he woke up the field marshal. After listening to my report, the field marshal Model asked me whether I gave the parachute drop a ten percent chance of success. When I answered in the affirmative, he stated that the entire offensive had not more than a ten percent chance of success. However, it was necessary to attempt since it was the last remaining chance to conclude the war favorably. The field marshal concluded that if the most were not made of this ten percent chance, Germany would be faced with a certain defeat
Operation Stoesser, like Operation Greif, would be conducted. Both lacked cohesive, well-prepared combat teams, thanks to the lack of time and the ad hoc nature of their organizations. Rather than the elite, top-notch special operations units envisioned, and required, for the demanding and high-risk missions that were to follow, the forces involved in both operations were generally under-manned, ill-equipped, and poorly trained. Likewise, the special operations were not properly coordinated with their conventional counterparts. All of the problems encountered during the planning and preparation for both operations would come to a head once the offensive was to begin.
On the morning of Dec 16, 1944, the offensive commenced. A thunderous roar from thousands of guns, mortars, and nebelwerfers announced the opening of the preliminary bombardment of the enemy positions at 0530. It was short, the range was lengthened and the German infantry moved to the attack. The earliest reports arrived just before seven and they were not too favorable, although they could obviously take a turn for the better at any moment … Up to midday, the only news was of violent fighting, without any considerable gain of ground. The intended collapse of the whole front had not been achieved. So began the opening of Wacht Am Rhein. In Skorzeny’s own words this opening stage was described as something less than desirable. The problems and difficulties encountered on the first day of the offensive were to have a significant impact on the conduct of the German Special Operations. Handicapped by faulty preparation and planning, Operations Greif and Stoesser were soon to be doomed by the events of the first day of the offensive.
By December 18, 1944, both Operations failed to accomplish their primary missions. Both operations, in light of the specific campaign plans, were failures. Although the special operations did have some favorable impact on the campaign, they were unable to assist the conventional forces in realizing any of the key campaign objectives. In coordination with the 6.Panzer-Army, Otto Skorzeny had co-located his command post with that of the I.SS-Panzer-Corps Headquarters at Schmittheim, Germany, on the day before the offensive, December 15, 1944. Skorzeny, barred from taking front line command of the operation by Hitler months ago, settled for a location where he could monitor the progress of the offensive and gauge the right moment to launch his Panzer-Brigade 150 three battle groups towards their objectives. Skorzeny would never get the chance to issue this order. Although the commando company was to prove successful in infiltrating American lines and gaining valuable intelligence, the other part of Operation Greif, the Panzer-Brigade 150, a captive of the opening day’s events, would never see its objective.
The actions of the Einheit Stielau, the Commandos Company, were to prove the most successful of the German special operations. Tasked to conduct deep reconnaissance of the Meuse River bridges and spread confusion behind the lines through acts of sabotage, most of the disguised commando teams accomplished their objectives with a high degree of success and according to the plan. A total of nine Stielau Commando teams were actually sent through the American lines on December 16 as the opening phase of Operation Greif. These consisted of four teams of Recon Commandos, two teams of Demolition Commandos, and three teams of Lead Commandos, totaling 44 men.
Per their plans, the Recon Commandos drove deep to the Meuse along multiple routes and began gathering intelligence about the Meuse River bridges for the Panzer-Brigade 150, and the 6.Panzer-Army. The Demolition Commando teams set about conducting acts of sabotage behind the lines and providing intelligence concerning the local enemy situation. One team each of Lead Commandos traveled with the 1.SS-Panzer-Division, the 12.SS-Panzer-Division, and the 12.Volksgrenadier-Division, all part of 1.SS-Panzer-Corps, started paving the way for the German spearheads.
The American forces defending their extended fronts were taken by surprise by the German attack. Capitalizing on the confusion, shock, and somewhat expedient withdrawals of some of the American forward units, at least seven teams initially infiltrated tough the American front lines during the initial 24 hours of the offensive. Skorzeny estimated that six to eight teams really got behind the enemy lines. He stated his rationale for this quite candidly in his autobiography: it may sound odd that even to this day I cannot give the exact figure, but I was honest enough to have my doubts about the reports I received. One can well understand that some of these young soldiers were too ashamed to admit that when faced with their real trial – the penetration of enemy-held territory, their courage and resolution had left them. The actual facts are that two teams were certainly captured and five others put in reports so clear and unambiguous that there could not be the slightest doubt that they had done what they said they had done. In the two remaining cases, their reports seemed exaggerated.
The teams infiltrated the American lines both day and at night mounted in jeeps and wearing American garb. Two simple methods were used to infiltrate behind the lines. In the first technique, the jeep team would follow closely behind an attacking armored unit. When that unit engaged the Americans or penetrated their lines, the jeep team would swing off the main road and move around the battle using side roads and trails until they were behind the withdrawing or defending American troops. The other technique was quite simply to travel along small trails in the heavily wooded areas through gaps in the American defenses until the jeep team got behind the lines. They would then move onto the improved roads – and proceed with their missions. The infiltration attempts were not without risk; nor were the commando teams ignored by the Americans. Almost every team was confronted by Americans as they traveled to their objectives.
Feldwebel Heinz Rohde, alias Sgt Momis Woodahl, a member of one of the Recon Commando teams infiltrating behind the 12.SS-Panzer-Division, eloquently described his penetration of the lines in a postwar interview: after moving barely fifty meters the tank which we had been closely following in our jeep came to a standstill. The leading tanks made it known that we were now in no man’s land. High time to discard our paratrooper jacket. For the driver, this was a real feat of acrobatics as it was impossible for us to stop and he had to carry out his undressing act while we were on the move. Our jeep jumped around like a young deer, and while the driver kicked frantically at the accelerator pedal, the co-drive tried to steer the vehicle around the obstacles with desperate wrenches of the wheel. The first burning American truck suddenly appeared behind us. It was now that we first ran up against the strong defenses of the Yankees; none too soon, as directly in front of us a group of American infantry was trying to place an anti-tank gun in position. How relieved we were to find that apart from being splattered with mud nothing else hit us. A sergeant tried with shouts and signals to bring us into action; which was a quite unreasonable demand, as we had strict contrary orders and certainly didn’t come under his unit. So we swept past him, only to catch sight of a military police post on the road in front of us a few minutes later. An American soldier, as tall as a tree, was standing there. The white stripes on his helmet, with the MP legend, left no doubt as to his genuineness. With a motorcycle carelessly thrown down beside him, he pulled us onto a side road and the artillery fire falling on the main road ahead left us in no doubt that his efforts were directed towards protecting us from it. I don’t know how we managed to negotiate the bend in that situation, but somehow or other we succeeded in getting away. Another commando summed up the situation during the infiltration: Naturally we thought at first that every American could spot us as Germans from a thousand meters away; but the shelling, the poor light, and the confusion of the opposition helped us through those first tense hours … gradually our nerves started to settle down.
