EIGHTY years ago tonight, the skies over Germany erupted in a hellish fury of noise and flame as the last great Allied offensive of the Second World War in the West was launched: the Rhine Crossing.
The ground assault, codenamed Operation Plunder, saw up to 5,500 guns unleash a stupefying four-hour artillery barrage along a 15-mile front against enemy positions on the east banks of the river. The firestorm of steel and high explosives raged from 6pm to 10pm. Then, under cover of darkness and a smokescreen 66 miles long, more than a million soldiers from Britain, the US and Canada went into action to make their way across the river.
The first waves of troops and equipment were ferried over in more than 2,500 boats, including Buffalo and DUKW amphibious craft, high-speed storm boats and cable-drawn rafts. Thousands of tons of bridging equipment were brought to the western bank and once the first pontoon bridges were laid, tanks, artillery and lorry-borne infantry followed.
The next morning, as the ground forces pushed on, a massive assault from the sky by 14,000 British and American glider-borne soldiers and paratroopers was launched to capture and consolidate forward positions. Codenamed Operation Varsity, and deploying 3,000 aircraft, it was the largest airborne operation ever carried out on a single day in one location, surpassing even D-Day and Arnhem.
Despite some hard fighting – the Allies suffered almost 7,000 casualties – the Rhine Crossing was a complete and stunning victory. Within days, a bridgehead 20 miles wide and eight miles deep had been established, opening the way into the Ruhr, the industrial heartland of Hitler’s Reich. Meanwhile, Soviet armies were poised in the east for their final assault on Berlin. Just six weeks later, Germany surrendered unconditionally.
The Rhine operation today remains relatively unknown in the roll call of Britain’s Second World War battles, with names such as Normandy and Arnhem probably more familiar in the public consciousness. The reason, perhaps, is that while those earlier battles provoked controversy that even today keeps military researchers and authors busy, there was little to criticise about the execution of Plunder and Varsity.
The crossing was a meticulously planned set-piece operation masterminded by Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery, commander of 21st Army Group and Britain’s most famous soldier of the war. From a military perspective, the Rhine was the last major geographical barrier to be overcome on the long road to Germany’s downfall in the West that had started with the invasion of Normandy on June 6, 1944. The river also held a symbolic, almost mystical, significance in the psyche of the Fatherland. It was seen as the sacred traditional frontier that must be defended at all costs, as immortalised in the patriotic song Die Wacht am Rhein (Watch on the Rhine). Once the Rhine was fully breached, it was a shattering psychological as well as physical blow.
However, more than two weeks before Montgomery’s spectacular showpiece assault on March 23, the river had already been crossed 80 miles to the south by American troops. On March 7, soldiers of the US 9th Armoured Division had daringly captured a railway bridge over the Rhine at Remagen which the Germans had failed to destroy completely with demolition charges. Over the following days, 125,000 troops, with tanks, guns and trucks, had established a bridgehead on the eastern shore which was later exploited to great effect. On March 22, even further south, soldiers of the US Third Army had crossed the river at Oppenheim, delighting their commander, General George Patton, because he had stolen a day’s march on his great rival Montgomery.
The flamboyant, foul-mouthed American general marked the achievement by standing on a pontoon bridge and publicly relieving himself into the middle of the Rhine. By now, Patton’s tanks were short of fuel, and he was desperate to continue advancing, so he sent a message to the Allied Supreme Commander, US General Dwight Eisenhower, saying: ‘I have just pissed into the Rhine River. For God’s sake, send some gasoline.’
As valiant and audacious as these American incursions were, neither could compare with the sheer scale and power of the gigantic attack launched via Plunder and Varsity. Allied planners had learned costly lessons from their last attempt to cross the Rhine: the hastily conceived, fatally flawed Operation Market Garden in September 1944. Paratroopers were dropped eight miles from the main target bridge over the river at Arnhem, while the relieving ground forces started out in the wake of the air drop and had to cover 64 miles. With Varsity, the airborne troops were sent in only after the ground assault had been launched, with just a few miles separating both forces before they could link up. The strategy was overwhelmingly successful, with most objectives being attained within hours.
The main thrust was aimed in the areas of Rees and Wesel on the east bank of the Rhine. Both towns were already in ruins after intensive Allied bombing in February. The German defences all along the river and its hinterland were weak, with only around 70,000 men dug in to face the onslaught, and lacking armour and artillery – a consequence of the dying Reich’s rapidly dwindling manpower and military resources. Although the defenders fought well for the most part, they were no match for the might of the Allied war machine.
An interesting footnote to the story of the Rhine Crossing was the presence of Britain’s Prime Minister, Winston Churchill. On March 25, alongside Montgomery and Eisenhower, he watched the progress of the operation from a vantage point on the western bank. Eisenhower returned to his headquarters, but Churchill decided he would like to cross the Rhine. In 1944, a similar situation had arisen when he planned to go into Normandy with the D-Day invasion forces. That foolhardy proposal was thwarted only by the intervention of the King. On the Rhine, however, there was no stopping him.
Consequently, accompanied by Montgomery, Field Marshal Sir Alan Brooke, and US General William Simpson, the pugnacious Premier was taken over in a landing craft. The party made their way to a railway bridge at Wesel, but had to beat a hasty retreat when the area came under German artillery fire. When Eisenhower heard of the escapade, he was reportedly none too happy at Churchill for putting himself and his important companions in mortal danger.
