The Sons of Hitler’s Generals Who Joined West Germany’s New Army JJ

In 1967, the West German army appointed a  new Inspector of Panzer Troops, the officer   responsible for its tank forces. His name was  Heinz Günther Guderian. A generation earlier,   his father had helped build Hitler’s  panzer force, led it across Europe,   and later became inspector general of  its armoured troops.

Now the son held   a comparable post in the army of democratic  West Germany. But his was not the first case.   The Bundeswehr’s first generation had already come  from Hitler’s Wehrmacht; now the sons of its most   famous commanders were joining too. How West Germany Rebuilt an Army   From Hitler’s Officers On 12 November 1955, in a   former barracks in Bonn, a hundred and one men in  plain civilian coats received their appointment   papers from the defence minister, Theodor Blank.  Ninety-five were officers and six were sergeants.

The date was chosen with care — the two hundredth  birthday of Gerhard von Scharnhorst, the Prussian   reformer who had once rebuilt a beaten army  from nothing. Ten years after the Reich was   destroyed, West Germany had an army again. The hard question was who would lead it. As the   Cold War intensified, the Western Allies wanted  a West German force inside NATO, but the only   Germans with real command experience had earned  it in Hitler’s Wehrmacht.

Planning had begun in   secret in 1950, when former Wehrmacht officers met  at the Himmerod monastery and drafted a blueprint   for the new army. Even famous wartime commanders  were consulted — among them Erich von Manstein,   one of Hitler’s best-known field marshals. Rearmament was fought bitterly at home. Many   Germans, worn out by one war, wanted  no part in building another army;   their slogan was ohne mich — “without me.

” But  Chancellor Konrad Adenauer pushed it through,   because an army was the price of West  Germany’s place in the Western alliance.  Two men stood at the centre of the  rebuilt force. Adolf Heusinger had   been the operations chief of the German  army’s high command for most of the war,   and was standing beside Hitler at the Wolf’s Lair  when the July 1944 bomb went off.

Hans Speidel had   been a senior staff officer in occupied France.  In 1955 both put on the new uniform and became the   Bundeswehr’s first full generals — Heusinger soon  led the whole force, and Speidel took command of   NATO’s ground troops in central Europe. They were not exceptions. By 1959,   more than twelve thousand of the army’s roughly  fifteen thousand professional officers were   former Wehrmacht men, and every one of its first  forty-four generals had worn the old uniform.

Its constitution was new; much of its senior  officer corps was not. These men became the   founding generation of the West German army. Soon  they were joined by the actual sons of commanders   whose names had filled the war’s headlines. Guderian’s Son and the Job His Father Held  Few German military names were more closely tied  to tank warfare than Guderian.

Heinz Guderian   had built Germany’s armoured force in the 1930s,  led it through the opening victories of the war,   and finished as the army’s chief of the general  staff. To the public he was the man who made the   Blitzkrieg work. Less well known was that his  son had entered the same branch of service.  Heinz Günther Guderian was born in Goslar in  1914.

He entered the army as an officer cadet in   1933 and was commissioned two years later. He was  wounded twice during the Battle of France in 1940,   graduated from the General Staff College in  1942, and served in a string of armoured staff   posts before becoming operations officer of the  116th Panzer Division — the Greyhounds — in 1944.   When the fighting ended he was taken  prisoner, and he was not released until 1947.

Heinz Guderian was dismissed by Hitler in the  final weeks of the fighting and surrendered to   the Americans. He was held for three years,  released without charge, and died in 1954.  There was no German army for the son to rejoin  until the Bundeswehr was established in 1955. In   1956, Heinz Günther Guderian returned to uniform,  commanding a tank battalion, then a tank brigade.

He climbed steadily — colonel in 1960, brigadier  general in 1963, major general in 1968. By the   late 1960s he had risen high enough for  one of the army’s leading armoured posts.  In 1967, he was appointed Inspector of Panzer  Troops. The position closely resembled the   armoured inspectorate his father had held  under Hitler.

He remained in the post until   his retirement in 1974, and for those seven years  he helped shape how West Germany’s armoured forces   were trained, organised, and equipped. His father  had readied an armoured force for conquest; the   son readied a NATO force to defend West Germany  against the Soviet Union his father had invaded.

He later wrote a history of his  old wartime division, and lived   until 2004, dying at the age of ninety. Two Field Marshals’ Sons in a New Uniform  Guderian’s son was the sharpest case, but  not the only one. Walter Model had been   one of Hitler’s most relentless commanders,  a field marshal repeatedly sent to stabilise   fronts that were already close to collapse.

In April 1945, his army encircled in the Ruhr,   Model took his own life rather than surrender.  He left behind a teenage son named Hansgeorg.  Hansgeorg Model had been pulled into the war  at its very end, entering the Wehrmacht as an   officer cadet in December 1944. As an infant  he had been baptised by Martin Niemöller,   the pastor who became one of the regime’s most  prominent prisoners.

In 1955 he went looking for   his father. Walter Model lay in a hasty forest  grave in the Ruhr, where he had died; his son   found it and had the body reburied in the German  war cemetery at Vossenack, in the Hürtgen Forest.  A year later, in 1956, he joined the  Bundeswehr and made a full career of it.   He commanded a mechanised infantry brigade in  Hamburg, later headed an army signals office,   and retired in 1987 as a brigadier general.

It was a far less dramatic career than his   father’s — three decades of commands and  staff posts in a peacetime democratic army.  Another famous field marshal’s family had  its own link to the Bundeswehr. Erich von   Manstein — the German commander many Allied  officers considered the most dangerous of   the war — was convicted of war crimes by a  British court in 1949 and released in 1953.

Within a few years he was advising the West German  government on how to rebuild its forces. The   father helped design the new army from the outside  — and one of his sons would serve inside it.  That son was Rüdiger. His elder brother Gero had  been killed on the Eastern Front in 1942; Rüdiger,   born in 1929, served in the new army only as a  reserve officer, reaching lieutenant colonel.

His role in the new army was slight. He had more  influence over how his father would be remembered:   he kept the family’s papers, and  in 1981 helped publish a volume   of the field marshal’s postwar writings. The Son Who Refused, and the Long Reckoning  Not every general’s son entered the Bundeswehr.

Manfred Rommel was the only child of Field Marshal   Erwin Rommel — the Desert Fox, the one German  commander the Allies openly admired. In October   1944, Erwin Rommel was forced to take his own  life over his suspected links to the plot against   Hitler. His son, by then a teenager manning an  anti-aircraft gun, left his unit in the war’s   final months and gave himself up to French forces.

When West Germany built its army, Manfred Rommel   did not join it. He went into civilian politics  instead, rose through the Christian Democratic   Union, and served for more than twenty years as  the mayor of Stuttgart — known for tolerance,   dry humour, and his friendships with the  sons of the Allied generals who had once   fought his father.

The most celebrated name in the  Wehrmacht passed not into the new army, but into a   democratic city hall. After his death in 2013,  the city’s airport was renamed in his honour.  The Bundeswehr had been created explicitly to  be different from the Wehrmacht. Its founders   built it around a new idea they called Innere  Führung — inner leadership — shaped by reformers   such as Wolf Graf von Baudissin and Ulrich de  Maizière.

The soldier was to be a citizen in   uniform, answerable to his conscience and the  constitution, not an instrument of the state.  Yet elements of the old army remained embedded in  the new one. Many of the officers who shaped the   new institution had served in the Wehrmacht,  and the barracks bore the names of Wehrmacht   commanders. The wartime records of some of  them were also hard to ignore.

Adolf Heusinger,   the Bundeswehr’s first Inspector General, had  initialled wartime orders that stripped legal   protection from captured Soviet officials;  in the early 1960s, while he chaired NATO’s   military committee, Moscow publicly demanded his  extradition, accusing him of responsibility for   civilian deaths during anti-partisan operations.  He was never tried, and he retired with honours.

Heinz Günther Guderian retired in 1974, Hansgeorg  Model in 1987. By then the Bundeswehr had become a   genuinely different institution — but it had  never fully resolved how to handle the men,   traditions, and reputations it  had taken over from the Wehrmacht.  The issue returned sharply in 2017, when a  young officer was arrested in a far-right plot   and the inquiry that followed found Wehrmacht  relics still on display in Bundeswehr barracks.

The next year the defence ministry reaffirmed that  the Wehrmacht as an institution could not serve as   a source of tradition for the Bundeswehr, and that  a figure from that era could be honoured only if   his life showed something beyond skill in battle.

Old names began to come down from barracks gates;   one base honouring an Imperial-era general was  renamed for a sergeant killed in Afghanistan.  But one name survived. The base at Augustdorf is  still the Rommel Barracks, named for the Desert   Fox — the father Manfred Rommel had buried, and  pointedly never followed into uniform. The men   who had served Hitler were long gone. What they  left behind, their country is still sorting out.

Thanks for watching. If you found this video  insightful, watch “Hitler Promoted 12 Field   Marshals in One Day — What Happened to Them?” next  — the story of the famous field marshal ceremony   of 19 July 1940. Like this video, subscribe,  and hit the bell for more History Inside.

Disclaimer: This story is fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. Any names, characters, places, or events are fictitious or used fictitiously. No real person or organization is intended to be portrayed.

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