Valkyrie: The Story of the Plot to Kill Hitler, by Its Last Member by Philip Freiherr von Boeselager

Westphalian military region. He had heard about Georg’s exploits in France and his spotless military career. He listened in silence. The next day—having slept on it—the marshal said that he had been convinced by my brother’s presentation, and was prepared to try out the idea. “Go and work out all the details with Tresckow,” he advised Georg.
    I organized the meeting. Georg and Tresckow were leaders of men, true tacticians. They were able to judge and assess each other in a few moments; their discussion was brief. In a letter to Georg on July 27, Tresckow summed up their meeting and their intermittent contacts over the next six months: “We have seen each other only a few times, but I think these brief moments are enough for us to know what we are doing together. I will always be loyal to you, and I would be grateful for your loyalty in return. And now, keep it under your hat!”
    The two men had resolved to set up an autonomous cavalry force that would serve not only military ends but might also, under Georg’s command, be used in the framework of a coup d’état. This force completed Tresckow’s arrangements for the overthrow of the regime: in addition to Kluge’s approval and a network of officers in whom he could have confidence, he could now count onmobile operational units whose commanders were loyal to him. A great many practical details remained to be dealt with. A few weeks earlier, Colonel Helmut Stieff, another member of our network, had been appointed head of the Army General Staff’s Organization Department, and he shared Tresckow’s views regarding the dual role of the cavalrymen. Less than a week after his meeting with Georg, Tresckow received Stieff’s instructions. On January 14, he could order the immediate regrouping, under Georg’s command, of the vestiges of the main cavalry units.
    The involvement of Georg’s cavalry unit in the group’s projects did not remain secret. Franz von Papen, then the German ambassador in Ankara, writes in his memoirs that in April 1943 he had a confidential discussion with Count Wolf von Helldorf, the Berlin police superintendent, and Gottfried von Bismarck, the governor of Pots dam. The latter told him about plots against Hitler in which the cavalry regiment led by Georg von Boeselager, who was mentioned by name, was to capture the head of state and the principal leaders of the Nazi Party. This description, though somewhat distorted by rumor, shows what a dangerous position my brother and I found ourselves in. Fortunately, these three high officials were playing a double game and took care not to inform the Reich’s dreaded state security police.
    Outside these authorized circles, news of the establishment of a cavalry group spread like wildfire withinthe little world of the cavalry. On January 25, König and his men had reached Smolensk. Soon thereafter, having been brought into the operation a few weeks later, I left the marshal’s service to join them. Georg worked hard to bring in all the usable cavalry squadrons; to provide them with the proper number of horses again; to set up sufficient artillery cover; to provide the units with communications equipment; to re-create support functions from the ground up; and to recruit enough veterinarians, as one of his major concerns was to ensure that the horses would be well cared for. When spring came, the mares gave birth to seventy colts, which were sent, after a few weeks of being suckled, to East Prussia. The horses consumed a great deal of fodder, most of it imported from Germany. A normal-size horse needs five kilograms of straw per day, and the same amounts of hay and oats. We had to procure sufficient feed and especially to get ready for winter. So we constructed a wooden hay press that allowed us to make rectangular bales that would be stored for the cold season. Georg was willing to deal with every detail. He had as much confidence in Field Marshal Kluge as I did, but nothing was simple. He wrote,