The first British convoy of the war leaves Gibraltar for Cape Town.
The Nazi Party Rally of Peace opens in Nuremberg. Nobody notes the irony.
Other nations take action: Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Finland, and Iceland all simultaneously declare neutrality. Portugal separately announces its intention to remain neutral, despite its centuries-old alliance with Britain.
The Gestapo orders all Jews in Germany aged between 16 and 55 to report for compulsory labor.
The Lichtenburg concentration camp is closed and all inmates are transferred to Ravensbruck.
At 2:30 a.m., Bill Shirer writes in his diary about Berlin being completely darkened by blackout. “It takes a little getting used to. You grope around the pitch-black streets and pretty soon your eyes get used to it. You can make out the whitewashed curbstones.” Later, as the day drones on, Shirer writes, “The German attack has been going on for two days and Britain and France haven’t yet honored their promises. Can it be that Chamberlain and Bonnet are going to try to sneak out of them? Hitler has cabled Roosevelt he will not bomb open towns if the others don’t. No air-raid tonight. Where are the Poles?”
All across Poland, the Germans continue their blitzkrieg war, against extremely determined and desperate defense. The first Polish war communique admits to 130 dead, 12 of them soldiers, in air raids on Gdynia and Warsaw. “Two German bombers were shot down, and the four occupants arrested after a miraculous escape, when 41 German aircraft in formation appeared over eastern Warsaw on Friday afternoon. People watched a thrilling aerial battle over the heart of the City. Several houses caught fire, and the hospital for Jewish defective children was bombed and wrecked.”
German bombers smack the railway station at the town of Kolo and hit a train loaded with refugees fleeing the battle zones – 111 of them are killed. In Piotrkow, home of 15,000 Jews, Romek Zaks is killed that day, considered the “first Jewish victim” in World War II.
On the battlefields, German advances and Polish withdrawals leave the sea coastal defenses completely cut off. 3rd Panzer Division continues to push across the Brda River.
Polish troops find themselves encircled, and start trying to fight their way out of the pockets. The Polish 4th Infantry Division attacks the German forces advancing westward from East Prussia. The attack does little to slow the steady German advance, and the Poles are forced to retreat along with the rest of Army Pomorze. With that army in retreat, the German forces in Pomerania begin moving toward East Prussia on their way to Warsaw.
In East Prussia, the Germans continue to try to break through the Polish Mlawa fortifications, with little avail. The key to the German attack is the ad hoc Panzer Division Kempf, named for its boss, made up of SS and Army independent tank and motorized regiments. It wedges itself between the 20th and 8th Polish Infantry Divisions near Mlawa.
That evening, the Podlaska Cavalry Brigade attacks into East Prussia, defeating some German territorial reserve units, which boosts Polish morale.
In the south, the Polish 10th Armored Brigade attacks the German 2nd “Vienna” Panzer Division and slows the Nazis down, knocking out 20 German tanks. But the rest of Krakow Army does not fare as well. The tough German 1st Panzer Division and two infantry divisions, 4th and 46th, force the Polish 7th Infantry Division to retreat toward Czestochowa. The Polish Krakowska Cavalry Brigade holds off the German 2nd Light Division.
The 4th Panzer Division, which had a hard day on September 1, attacks the 7th Infantry Division. The Poles call in their PZL. 25 “Carp” attack planes, and five of them are shot down over the battlefield. Seven of the remainder crash on landing due to battle damage, but inflict serious losses on the Germans. Even though the Germans have been slowed, the Poles can’t hold the ground, and have to withdraw.
At Pszczyna, known to the Germans as Pless, the Kaiser’s old castle, the German 5th Panzer Division runs into firm defenses and minefields. The German rely on their mobility to maneuver around and shred the Polish 6th Infantry Division’s lines. By September 5, the 6th Division’s losses will have reached 40 percent. Polish valor is not enough.
Kurt Meyer’s anti-tank team of the LSSAH regiment gets moving by 6 a.m., headed across the Prosna River. Dry weather has made the river low, and it proves no obstacle to the German Eighth Army. The Germans roar across and head for their next objective, a crossing of the Warta River.
“We fight from one shallow river to the next. Squadrons of their cavalry cover our flanks as we move. They are looking for openings. But horses are no match for tanks. Each time they come close our guns get their range,” Meyer says later. “Down go their horses kicking and struggling. It’s not a pretty sight. I feel sorry for the horses, not the Poles.”
The Warta lies 32 kilometers further east, defended by strongly fortified bunkers and blockhouses. After two hours of bitter fighting, the LSSAH punches through the defenses and keeps moving. Dietrich orders the LSSAH ahead of the main column to fight its way through to the rail and road junction at Pabianice, a prosperous market town on the Ner River.
Meyer and his team lead the advance and six kilometers ahead of the column run into a hailstorm of fire from the retreating enemy. Vehicles halt and the men scramble for cover. Meyer sends his dispatch rider back to advise the main force. Meyer lies on the grass next to his Kubelwagen, studying the terrain through field glasses. The corporal (Rottenfuhrer) next to him suddenly recoils, yelling, “I’ve been hit, Captain (Hauptsturmfuhrer).” Meyer probes the wound, which is a mere graze of the man’s temple just below the lip of his helmet. Loss of blood but nothing serious. Meyer summons a medic.
“A few more centimeters to the left and you’d be dead,” the Rottenfuhrer observes.
“Or a few more to the right and so would you,” Meyer answers.
As the battles roar on, Polish and German infantry both find themselves evenly matched in terms of training, morale, and small-unit leadership. But the Germans have more artillery, air support, and numbers. Still, the Poles counter-attack.
At Tychy, south of Katowice, the 23rd Infantry Division is backed by the armored train No. 54 “Grozny,” (which means “Sinister”), and its full allotment of rail-capable tanks and assault troops. The Poles counterattack against the 28th Infantry Division (which later becomes a Light Infantry Division) and drives the Germans back from their positions.
The Poles do find they have one advantage – the Germans don’t like to fight at night. The Germans prefer to rest and regroup by dark and wait for dawn and their air support. The Poles use night as an opportunity to reinforce positions and gain some ground lost the day before. The disadvantage is that fighting by day and night wears out the Polish troops, who also lack motorized transport. Exhaustion begins to defeat the Poles as much as the Germans.
The Germans, however, show great ferocity on the advance. When approaching any dwelling or building of any kind, the Germans spray the structure with heavy machine-gun fire, regardless if there is any sign of Polish troops or not – a precursor to their occupation of Poland.
Behind the advancing troops come the SS Einsatzkommandos, engaged on “Operation Tannenberg,” to systematically exterminate the Polish municipal officials, businessmen, clergy, and other leaders. In two months, they will shoot about 20,000 Poles. Once that is done, they will move on to the Jews.
