Killing Rommel - The Demise of the Desert Fox

This is the type of history channel that a WW2 nut like myself loves.

As you pointed out, by choosing suicide, Rommel protected his family from further Nazi persecution. This included his son, Manfred, a teenaged soldier in the Luftwaffenhelfer. After the war, Manfred would go on to a political career, serving as mayor of Stuttgart from 1974 to 1996. He also befriended sons of two of his father's Allied opponents, George Patton and Bernard Montgomery, further cementing German-British-American post-war friendship.

I had the chance to take care of the nurse who looked after Rommel after his staff car was strafed in France and he almost died. She immigrated to Canada after the war and showed me some of the letters that she received from his wife/son thanking her for the care of General Rommel during his hospital stay and subsequent convalescence.

He really was the best German general. Many senior German officers were jealous of him and slandered him after the war. In April 1944 he said. "If you think they will arrive in good weather, taking the shortest route, and give you advance warning, you are mistaken... The Allies will land in terrible weather, taking the longest route... The landing will take place here in Normandy, and this day will be the longest day." The best one.

My great uncle destroyed a dozen of Rommel’s tanks in North Africa during the war. He was the worst mechanic the Afrika Korps ever had

The fact that we get free documentaries on YouTube by Dr Mark Felton is truly a gift 👍

Rommel's open refusal to implement the notorious Kommando Order issued by Hitler speaks volumes about his sense of honour. A superb soldier and a decent man. I knew a Desert Rat veteran who served as a Captain in Churchill's old cavalry Regt- 7th Hussars. Tom was an ardent admirer of Rommel, and had a great deal of respect for German soldiers. He once quipped to me, "The only officer more popular than Montgomery with the men of the 8th Army, was Rommel!"

My grandfather fought as a member of the British Indian Army in Montgomery’s Eighth Army in North Africa and Italy. At one point his regiment got separated from their white British counterparts and were surrounded by the Afrika Korps. They were about to all be executed when Rommel arrived at the last moment and spared all their lives, allowing them to rejoin their comrades. My grandfather always spoke with deep respect for Rommel, as he saved his life.

Rommel's son, Manfred, had a fine career in politics and maintained friendships with Patton's son and Montgomery's son.

My Grandad was a desert rat and he got gunned across his legs and was captured by Rommel. He escaped from the prison, but had to hand himself back in because his legs became infected. Despite escaping they still treated him well and sorted out his infections.

Okay but for real, this new information found in 2018 has absolutely blown me away. I was under the impression that Rommel completely disassociated himself with Valkyrie's participants, but SEEING HIM IN A PHOTO WITH THE PLOTTERS was an AMAZING piece of history. I can't believe I didnt see this earlier, THANK YOU FOR YET ANOTHER BRILLIANT VIDEO, MARK!

I was a soldier in the US army stationed in Germany for most of the nineties. In an NCO academy in Baumholder, one of the classrooms had a quote from rommel and attributed to him, that every ounce of sweat in training avoids spilling a gallon of blood in battle, or thereabouts. Decades after the war’s end, my army thought highly enough of Rommel to add his principles as a guide to better soldiering.

There are lots of World War II channels on YouTube and Mark Felton's stands out because of his crisp diction and steady but pacy delivery. We might have seen the newsreel footage and images elsewhere but Mark with his intriguing research and masterful storytelling creates documentaries which always bring a surprise. Thank you, sir, for your information, education and fascinating viewing.

killing Rommel The Desert Fox: "Fine,guess I'll have to do it myself"

This was no end for such a man. Having the respect of your enemies is possibly the highest honour a general can have

Really appreciate these amazing videos. My father was a desert rat who fought against Rommel, and told us repeatedly that Rommel was well respected by himself and his fellow allied soldiers. My father was injured and captured in the notorious Breakout at Minqar Qa'im on 25 June 1942. Rommel was furious at the brutal tactics used in the breakout and intended to summarily execute all prisoners, however was eventually talked out of that action. For that humane concession, I too have respect for the Desert Fox, my father being sent to a hospital in Piacenza, Italy where he recovered from his injuries (although became a POW in Czekhoslovakia, eventually enduring an 800 mile "death march", ending in liberation by the US troops in Bavaria. These videos help me appreciate what my father experienced in North Africa (he died when I was 21 and like so many others, I never got to talk with him about the reality of his experience.

I can add a small footnote to the Afrika Korps story. In 1968 I went on a summer tour of Europe with a couple of fellow students from the Univ. of Florida. In Hamburg we pooled our money and bought a used German Ford Taunus station wagon that we drove all over western Europe. While traveling through the beautifully scenic Bavarian Alps one afternoon we came upon a picturesque gastehaus (roadside tavern) and decided to stop in for a snack and some good German beer. Imagine our surprise when, upon opening the front door, we were confronted with a room full of middle-aged Germans wearing WWII desert campaign uniforms, which we recognized immediately from films about the desert war. We noticed that some were missing various body parts as well. It was as if we had just wandered onto a movie set. But they were all laughing, swing steins of beer about and singing some of the old Wehrmacht songs. We froze, wondering if it was a good idea us to be there, given their painful history and our being associated with the other side. So we moved quietly to a small table in a far corner, hoping not to be noticed as obviously American (blue jeans, etc.) But within just a few minutes a waiter walked over with a tray of beer steins and some dark bread. One of our group spoke a little German and told that waiter it was a mistake, that we had not yet ordered anything. The waiter laughed and said, "Yes I know, but they realize you are Americans and want you to feel welcome here." That's when it dawned on me that the losing side also had it's veterans' associations too and that we had stumbled into a reunion of Rommel's fabled Afrika Korps. And they clearly honored Rommel's code of ethics for treating the opposing side with respect and hospitality. Long story short, we spent a very memorable afternoon drinking steins of beer, laughing, back-slapping and learning some of the popular songs of the their day (Lilly Marlene is the only one I can remember now). Some of them who spoke English gladly shared stories of their adventures during the war and of their great respect for Rommel, whom many of them had met or seen during the desert campaigns. But by the end of that unforgettable afternoon the four of us felt that we had been fully adopted by these gentlemen as honorary members of the Afrika Korps. (Not something that happens every day) Fun Footnote: the very next day we were all arrested for driving a car with 'bad brakes' into Switzerland - the German Taunus! Different day, different culture. But that's a story for another time ....

I just recently learned that my grandfather served in the Africa Corps with Rommel as a truck driver. Before the war he was a poor cow farmer from a small village. He was captured in 1943 in Tunisia and moved to Texas as a POW. He returned to Germany in 1947. My dad was born in 1952. Luckily he survived otherwise I wouldn't be on this planet.

I knew Charlie before he was killed in a car accident a few years ago on his way to go flying in a Harvard. He was definitely the one who hit Rommel. He didn’t brag about it, he just described to me that day and his fortuitous attack. Wonderful guy, he has been missed in the aviation community in Canada.

How busy must he have been as a Field Marshall but yet found the time almost daily from North Africa, to write letters, sometimes only a sentences or two, to his wife. His wife preserved over a thousand of these letters. How could you not respect such a family man.