The Day When Hamburg Surrendered

Paul Henderson Scott

In the 1939-45 War I was an artillery officer who took part in the campaign in Europe. Shortly after the crossing of the Rhine I was transferred from my battery to the HQ of the Division. At that time it was already apparent that German resistance in the west was collapsing, especially as the Soviet forces were also advancing rapidly in the east. Thoughts were already turning to the next phase when fighting ceased and military government began. The powers that be had evidently decided that I might be useful in that capacity.

As we approached the river Elbe near Hamburg I was asked to take an armoured car, along with the driver, and establish contact with the Division advancing on our right. When I returned I was told that the German command in Hamburg had sent a party to offer the unconditional surrender of the city. This was their second attempt because the first envoys had unfortunately been mistaken by our forward troops as an enemy attack. When the second part arrived on 2nd May 1945 they told us that their Supreme Command also wanted to surrender their entire force in the west. This was rather beyond our competence and for that purpose we passed them on to Montgomery in his tactical HQ on Luneburg Heide.

Meanwhile we agreed arrangements for our entry into Hamburg. The population and the troops were to stay indoors with no one in the streets except the civilian police. A small party (of which I was a member) would drive straight to the Rathaus (that is the Town Hall) to accept the surrender. We would take an armoured escort which would leave a tank, to await our return, at all the main junctions. This all happened precisely to plan on 3rd May. The Rathaus, which is a handsome building, was undamaged despite the widespread devastation of the town by bombing. The Germans who received us were dignified, polite and apparently without emotion. The surrender was read and accepted. Then several waiters in tails and white ties appeared with trays of Champagne and sponge biscuits as though it was some sort of celebration.

Of course it was in a sense. It marked the end of years of mass slaughter, destruction and misery. We were all still alive and normality could resume. I have had a fortunate life with many memorable days; but no other could compare to this.