George Elford - Devil's Guard

A few months previously Ho Chi Minh had established his Workers Party—the Lao Dong—which was in fact the Communist party with the word “Communist” tactfully omitted. Ho Chi Minh still needed the support of the urban middle class. To them the mere word “Communism” was abhorrent, but they were, nevertheless, ardent supporters of the cause of independence.

At about that time we had an interesting “discussion” with a group of newspaper editors who were rather skeptical about the French endeavors and the general outlook of the war in Indochina. The newsmen had heard about the ex-Nazis of the Foreign Legion and they wasted no time in coming to talk to us. When I asked one of them why the editors wouldn’t interview the commanding general, the editor replied in good humor: “I suspect that whatever the general might say could be obtained printed in Paris, without taking the trouble of coming all the way to Indochina.”

I told them in no uncertain terms that we were fighting for a lost cause. They appeared somewhat surprised, since they had already consulted some high-ranking authority and had heard only the sunny side of the story. For us, it was quite understandable that our generals should be overoptimistic. After all they had been losing every battle since Napoleon and their most recent heroes of the First World War would have achieved little without the massive American assistance they received to bolster the brave but leaderless French soldiers (whose stamina we esteemed as much as we despised their generals). However resourceful and brave, the German troops could have achieved little without their Guderian, Manstein, or Rommel. When ordered into an attack at the wrong time and at the wrong place the bravest troops could only fight and go down fighting but without achievement. The French generals permitted too many of their troops to die. In our eyes, they were grown-up children who liked to play with tanks and cannons and, unfortunately, with human lives. Their little war games have resulted in the unnecessary death of millions of brave Frenchmen during the past eighty years; magnificent soldiers who could have won many victories if they had had capable and daring generals to lead them. After all, the race was the same as it had been in the time of Napoleon and lions will never beget rabbits! It was the elan vital—the “conquering will”—that was missing and not the cran—the guts.

“It is your conviction that we have irrevocably lost the war?” one of the newsmen asked. “No, not irrevocably,” I corrected him, “but the way the war is now being conducted it can only end in total defeat.”

“I see___” I had the notion that someday, not in the very distant future, our interview was going to backfire on us, but we were long since past worrying about consequences. “What should we do to win the war?”

“Withdraw the Territorials from Indochina entirely and reinforce the Paratroops, monsieur. Then bring over ten German divisions,” Eisner interposed with a broad grin. “That’s what you should do. German divisions, German weapons, German generals… Not the ones they have today, of course. Ten old German divisions and the French Paras could pacify Indochina, or hell itself, without jet planes, rockets, and napalm.”

The editors chuckled. “With Adolf Hitler in command?” someone asked, obviously amusing himself. It did not bother us. The newspapermen wanted to hear our opinion, -and we gave them what they wanted.

“For all his shortcomings, no one could accuse Hitler of cowardice, something we may seldom say of the present leaders of the so-called Free World,” I said coolly. “Hitler would never take insults, slaps in the face, or political nonsense; not from the equally powerful, let alone moral, economic, and military midgets like the Viet Minh.”

My words wiped the amusement from their faces. I went on: “I know that anyone may kick a dead lion but do you really think that Ho Chi Minh could have played his Viet Minh games with Hitler for five years?”

“Yes, we have heard of some of your, er, accomplishments,” an editor remarked. “How are you doing now?”

“We are only a single battalion, monsieur. We cannot perform miracles; but I think the world knows only too well what the German Army was able to accomplish, if only for a couple of years, alone against the world. I don’t think the Viet Minh would have frustrated the Wehrmacht.”

“Suppose you were given command in Indochina and had your German divisions. Would it solve the local problems?”

“The local problems are very complex,” I replied. “To solve them, one should mobilize top politicians and economists, not army divisions. But if I had a free hand, the Viet Minh would not last for six months. That I guarantee you.”

“Are you not overconfident?” a voice from the group asked.

“There is no situation which a superior power cannot solve by appropriate means.”

“And what do you mean by appropriate means?”

“The most rigorous measures if necessary. We met guerrillas before in Russia. When they gave us too much trouble within a specific area, we carted off the entire male population to Germany. Two days later there was no terrorist movement in the district. There is always a last solution.”

“Including extermination camps with gas chambers?”

“If you came here only to wisecrack, gentlemen, we might as well discontinue. You requested me to state facts and present my own unadulterated views—which is precisely what I am endeavoring to do.”

“Please go on—we meant no offense,” an elderly editor said apologetically. “Your determination is fascinating.”

“Historical facts cannot be altered, nor can they be whitewashed,” I went on. “We Germans can be very joyful and happy people around a table drinking beer, or in a bowling alley, or in our homes, but when it comes to fighting all our feelings become subjugated to our will to conquer. We were taught to be concerned with results only. The means by which we achieve victory are not important to us. Had we been here, instead of the French, we might have turned Indochina into a country of women and children only, but the Viet Minh would have been liquidated a long time ago.”

“Would you care telling us—not being a Frenchman yourself, and this also applies to your companions—why are you so concerned about Indochina and about the outcome of this war in general?”

“This liberation movement is not just a local phenomenon but the beginning of a prolonged struggle which one may rightly call a struggle for survival. The Viet Minh is only a single division of a brutal international force that has many other divisions ready for starting similar wars in any part of the world. This is not a local affair and it should worry every civilized nation of the world.”

“You don’t consider Russia civilized?” a newsman asked.

“The Russian standard of civilization exposed itself wonderfully when the Red army occupied the former Axis partners, Rumania, Hungary, and the part of Germany which is now the Soviet Zone, in 1945…”

“How about China? China can claim a four-thousand-year-old civilization.”

“That may be, gentlemen… but today, China is nothing more than a Red dunghill, and Communism can turn the angel of mercy into an angel exterminator. I believe that we are all aware of that.”

“Was Nazism any better?” a voice interposed.

“Suit yourself, monsieur,” I replied, ignoring the challenge. “If you came here to discuss Nazism we should switch subjects.”

“Let us keep to our proper subject,” the editor in front of me suggested, then glanced into his notebook and added: “Do you believe that world opinion would have permitted you to employ—let us be frank now—such typically Nazi methods as the deportation of the male population?”