The time was 3 A.M. The message was prefixed: “Very Urgent. State Secret.” It was for delivery to the Ambassador personally.
As soon as von der Schulenburg read the opening words he knew what the remainder would say. It began:
(1) Upon receipt of this telegram, all of the cipher material still there is to be destroyed. The radio set is to be put out of commission.
(2) Please inform Herr Molotov at once that you have an urgent communication to make to him and would therefore like to call on him immediately. . . . 5
The weary Ambassador turned to Hilger and Walther. The men shook their heads. The message was long. It took nearly two hours to transmit and decode. A clerk was ordered to telephone the Kremlin. The Ambassador’s limousine was brought around front again.
A little after 5 A.M. von der Schulenburg and Hilger were moving swiftly down Herzen Street toward the Kremlin. Their car swung right on the Mokhovaya and then made the left turn up the raised approaches beside the Alexandrinsky Gardens to the Borovitsky Gate of the Kremlin. The city slept, but it was already almost full daylight. Beyond the rose-brick Kremlin walls the Moskva River flowed softly and smoothly, its waters mirror-calm. The air was heavy with the scent of acacia and early roses from the Alexandrinsky Gardens.
The Kremlin guards brought their hands up to their blue-and-red caps in a smart salute, glanced at the diplomats and waved them inside.
Von der Schulenburg and Hilger entered Molotov’s offices in the cream-and-yellow Government Palace just about 5:30 A.M. Molotov, tired, worn and dour, showed them to seats at a long table covered by green baize. Von der Schulenburg drew out his message and began to read: “The Soviet Ambassador in Berlin is receiving at this hour from the Reich Minister for Foreign Affairs a memorandum—”
Unable to contain himself Molotov blurted out: “Heavy bombing has been going on for three hours!”
Von der Schulenburg looked up from his papers but said nothing. He droned on for ten minutes and concluded: “Thereby the Soviet Government has broken its treaties and is about to attack Germany from the rear, in its struggle for life. The Flihrer has therefore ordered the German armed forces to oppose this threat with all the means at their disposal.”
Several moments of complete silence followed. Molotov seemed to be struggling to maintain his stony demeanor. Finally he said, “Is this supposed to be a declaration of war?”
Schulenburg lifted his shoulders helplessly.
Molotov then spoke with indignation. He said the message could be nothing but a declaration of war since German troops had already crossed the border and Soviet citizens had already been bombed. He called the Nazi action a “breach of confidence without precedent.” He said Germany had attacked Russia without reason, that the excuses given were nothing but pretexts, that the allegations of Soviet troop concentrations were sheer nonsense, that if the German Government had felt offense, it merely needed to send a note to the Soviet Government instead of unleashing war.
“Surely we have not deserved that,” said Molotov.
The Ambassador replied with a request that the embassy staff be permitted to leave the Soviet Union in conformity with international law. Molotov icily rejoined that the Germans would be treated with strict reciprocity.
The Ambassador and Hilger shook hands with Molotov and re-entered their car. As it purred down the gentle slopes and out of the Kremlin compound, they saw, Hilger later recalled, a number of cars arriving. He thought he recognized several high-ranking generals in the machines.
The Germans drove in silence back to the embassy, which lay less than five minutes from the Kremlin. It was a region of Moscow with which Hilger had been familiar since boyhood. As he passed through the streets, he thought with sinking heart that he would never see them again. 6
The telephone in the Soviet Embassy in Berlin
As soon as von der Schulenburg read the opening words he knew what the remainder would say. It began:
(1) Upon receipt of this telegram, all of the cipher material still there is to be destroyed. The radio set is to be put out of commission.
(2) Please inform Herr Molotov at once that you have an urgent communication to make to him and would therefore like to call on him immediately. . . . 5
The weary Ambassador turned to Hilger and Walther. The men shook their heads. The message was long. It took nearly two hours to transmit and decode. A clerk was ordered to telephone the Kremlin. The Ambassador’s limousine was brought around front again.
A little after 5 A.M. von der Schulenburg and Hilger were moving swiftly down Herzen Street toward the Kremlin. Their car swung right on the Mokhovaya and then made the left turn up the raised approaches beside the Alexandrinsky Gardens to the Borovitsky Gate of the Kremlin. The city slept, but it was already almost full daylight. Beyond the rose-brick Kremlin walls the Moskva River flowed softly and smoothly, its waters mirror-calm. The air was heavy with the scent of acacia and early roses from the Alexandrinsky Gardens.
The Kremlin guards brought their hands up to their blue-and-red caps in a smart salute, glanced at the diplomats and waved them inside.
Von der Schulenburg and Hilger entered Molotov’s offices in the cream-and-yellow Government Palace just about 5:30 A.M. Molotov, tired, worn and dour, showed them to seats at a long table covered by green baize. Von der Schulenburg drew out his message and began to read: “The Soviet Ambassador in Berlin is receiving at this hour from the Reich Minister for Foreign Affairs a memorandum—”
Unable to contain himself Molotov blurted out: “Heavy bombing has been going on for three hours!”
Von der Schulenburg looked up from his papers but said nothing. He droned on for ten minutes and concluded: “Thereby the Soviet Government has broken its treaties and is about to attack Germany from the rear, in its struggle for life. The Flihrer has therefore ordered the German armed forces to oppose this threat with all the means at their disposal.”
Several moments of complete silence followed. Molotov seemed to be struggling to maintain his stony demeanor. Finally he said, “Is this supposed to be a declaration of war?”
Schulenburg lifted his shoulders helplessly.
Molotov then spoke with indignation. He said the message could be nothing but a declaration of war since German troops had already crossed the border and Soviet citizens had already been bombed. He called the Nazi action a “breach of confidence without precedent.” He said Germany had attacked Russia without reason, that the excuses given were nothing but pretexts, that the allegations of Soviet troop concentrations were sheer nonsense, that if the German Government had felt offense, it merely needed to send a note to the Soviet Government instead of unleashing war.
“Surely we have not deserved that,” said Molotov.
The Ambassador replied with a request that the embassy staff be permitted to leave the Soviet Union in conformity with international law. Molotov icily rejoined that the Germans would be treated with strict reciprocity.
The Ambassador and Hilger shook hands with Molotov and re-entered their car. As it purred down the gentle slopes and out of the Kremlin compound, they saw, Hilger later recalled, a number of cars arriving. He thought he recognized several high-ranking generals in the machines.
The Germans drove in silence back to the embassy, which lay less than five minutes from the Kremlin. It was a region of Moscow with which Hilger had been familiar since boyhood. As he passed through the streets, he thought with sinking heart that he would never see them again. 6
The telephone in the Soviet Embassy in Berlin
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