The German success in Fall Gelb - the invasion of Western Europe - was not primarily the result of overwhelming superiority in tanks, artillery, aircraft, or manpower. Nor was it simply the product of an exceptionally powerful army. Rather, Germany's victory was a triumph of doctrine, operational art, and leadership over opponents whose military thinking remained largely rooted in the experiences of the First World War.
The decisive advantage enjoyed by the Germans lay not so much in their equipment as in their ability to employ it effectively. Their command philosophy encouraged initiative, flexibility, and rapid decision-making. German commanders at every level were expected to exploit opportunities as they arose, rather than wait for detailed instructions from higher headquarters. This approach enabled German forces to maintain momentum, adapt quickly to changing circumstances, and seize the initiative throughout the campaign.
When discussing leadership, however, one must look beyond the Generals and senior staff officers. Military history often focuses on the decisions of commanders such as Von Rundstedt, Von Bock, Guderian, or Manstein. Yet even the most brilliant operational plan remains little more than a theoretical exercise unless it can be translated into action on the battlefield.
The most important links in any army's chain of command are the junior officers and non-commissioned officers. Generals, Colonels, and Majors may devise the plans, but it is the Captains, Lieutenants, NCO's and corporals who transform those plans into reality. They are the men who lead platoons through fire, organise local defences, restore order when confusion arises, and exploit fleeting opportunities that no higher commander could possibly foresee.
The German Army excelled in this regard. Its junior leaders were generally well trained, accustomed to exercising initiative, and empowered to make decisions independently when circumstances required. The German command system was designed to encourage such behaviour. Responsibility was delegated downward, allowing local commanders to react quickly and effectively to unforeseen developments.
By contrast, many Allied armies - including the French, Belgian, and, to a lesser extent, the Dutch - retained a more centralised command culture. Initiative at lower levels was often discouraged, while strict adherence to orders remained the norm. As a result, opportunities were missed, responses were delayed, and battlefield situations frequently evolved faster than commanders could react.
The campaign of May and June 1940 therefore demonstrated a fundamental truth about warfare: victory depends not only on weapons, numbers, or grand strategy, but also on the quality of leadership throughout the entire command structure. The Germans won not because they possessed invincible armies, but because they had developed a system that enabled capable leadership at every level to translate operational concepts into decisive action.
The quality of both Dutch and French officers in the theatre of operations left much to be desired, albeit for different reasons. French officers often proved uncooperative and arrogant towards their Dutch counterparts. Dutch officers, by contrast, were generally cooperative - at times almost excessively so - and readily accepted French direction. Yet if one examines the performance of Dutch units in Zeeland, particularly at platoon and company level, it becomes evident that the quality of leadership often fell well below what the circumstances demanded. This aspect warrants closer examination.
The average Dutch officer in 1940 was an officer of the reserve. The Dutch standing army was small, and the limited number of professional officers were largely required to staff higher headquarters and administrative organisations. As a result, only a small proportion of field officers and non-commissioned officers were career soldiers.
After completing an initial training period - typically lasting eleven months - a reserve officer returned to civilian life and was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant. Thereafter, he would only return for military service periodically. Officers in technical branches generally received occasional refresher courses, but opportunities for meaningful field training were scarce. Large-scale manoeuvres were considered too expensive, and the average Dutch officer rarely participated in exercises involving more than a battalion. Even such exercises were uncommon.
Most training focused on company- or battery-level activities. Simulation became a necessity rather than a choice, since heavy weapons, specialist equipment, and opposing forces were seldom available in sufficient numbers. Live-fire training was restricted by limited budgets and ammo stocks. As a result, Dutch soldiers became proficient marchers - long route marches being among the cheapest forms of training available - but received comparatively little instruction in fieldcraft, tactics, operational manoeuvre, or combined-arms warfare.
Formal instruction in tactics was provided only intermittently. Officers were expected to educate themselves through manuals and regulations, of which the Dutch Army possessed an abundance. The concept of combined-arms operations received little attention, while joint operations with other services or allied forces were virtually ignored. Education in strategy, military history, and foreign armies was limited, even among senior officers.
A small number of promising professional officers were sent to French military schools for advanced training. Yet these institutions themselves were heavily influenced by pre-war doctrine and often reflected outdated military thinking. Moreover, only (literally) a handful of Dutch officers benefited from such education. These men later taught at Dutch staff colleges, passing their knowledge to the next generation. Consequently, reserve officers were often instructed in doctrines that were already becoming obsolete.
Promotion within the Dutch Army was generally slow, although the same applies to all armies in peacetime. A first Lieutenant was often well into his twenties before receiving that rank, while promotion from Captain to Major frequently occurred only in middle age. Since officers up to and including the rank of Major were expected to serve as field commanders, the result was that many frontline commanders were relatively old by military standards and often lacked the physical fitness associated with more active armies.
The officer corps was largely recruited from the social upper and upper-middle classes, a pattern common throughout Europe at the time. Selection for the Royal Military Academy emphasised intelligence, academic achievement, and social standing. The qualities that modern armies associate with leadership - initiative, adaptability, and the ability to inspire men under fire - received far less attention. Advancement depended more upon conformity, reliability, and adherence to established procedures than upon demonstrated leadership ability.
As a result, officers who combined genuine leadership qualities with military talent were relatively uncommon. The system rewarded those who fit comfortably within its structures rather than those who challenged assumptions or displayed exceptional initiative. This is an important consideration when evaluating the performance of Dutch field officers in 1940.
Much the same could be said of the non-commissioned officer corps.
In many respects, the NCO is the most important element of any army. NCOs form the essential link between officers and soldiers, translating orders into action and maintaining discipline, cohesion, and effectiveness under difficult circumstances. The quality of an army's NCO corps is often one of the best indicators of the overall quality of the army itself.
The average Dutch NCO in May 1940 was also a reservist. In many cases, his military knowledge exceeded that of the ordinary soldier only marginally. Reserve NCOs typically attended a brief training course before being assigned to operational units. Because professional NCOs were few in number and often occupied with training new conscripts, reserve NCOs had limited opportunities to learn from experienced mentors.
Most importantly, Dutch NCOs received little or no formal tactical training unless they advanced beyond the rank of sergeant - a level generally reserved for professional personnel. Consequently, the average sergeant functioned primarily as a conduit between officers and enlisted men rather than as an independent leader capable of making tactical decisions.
This weakness had serious consequences. When officers became casualties, communications broke down, or unexpected situations arose, many NCOs lacked the training and confidence required to take initiative. In contrast to the German Army, where junior leaders were expected to exercise independent judgement, the Dutch system produced NCOs who were often passive executors of orders. In the fluid and chaotic conditions of May 1940, this proved to be a significant disadvantage!
The May Campaign was studied in considerable detail, even during the war itself. Only days after the capitulation, a senior Dutch officer was assigned to collect and catalogue battle reports. In principle, all officers - and later also many lower ranks - were instructed to submit written accounts of the events in which they had participated.
Units that had been involved in the main battles, such as those around the airfields near The Hague and Rotterdam, at the Grebbeberg, and in Rotterdam and Dordrecht, often produced hundreds of reports. In time, this material enabled a thorough investigation into the conduct of the troops and, more specifically, into the performance of their officers.
From this extensive body of evidence, a disturbing pattern emerged. A significant proportion of officers had performed poorly. After the war, many were dishonourably discharged from the armed forces, while others saw their careers halted or promotions denied. A detailed discussion of these cases lies beyond the scope of this study, but one broad conclusion is highly relevant.
Where units were commanded by capable officers - men who set a firm personal example of courage, determination, and leadership - their troops generally performed well, and sometimes exceptionally so. These units were not necessarily better trained, better equipped, or composed of better soldiers than others. The decisive difference often lay in the quality of leadership.
Conversely, units led by weak or indecisive officers frequently collapsed as soon as the first shells or bullets came close. The evidence strongly suggests that the quality of the commanding officer, and often that of the senior NCOs, was essential to a unit's battlefield performance. Good officers and NCOs were able to guide inexperienced soldiers through the shock and fear of their first combat, maintain morale despite casualties, and preserve discipline and cohesion under fire. Courageous leadership often proved contagious: brave officers and NCOs inspired similar determination among their men.
Another important conclusion from the post-campaign studies concerned the failure of higher commands and staffs to provide clear and meaningful instructions to field officers. Junior commanders were often poorly informed about almost everything beyond their immediate orders. They frequently lacked knowledge of the objectives of neighbouring or supporting units, the wider purpose of their own formation, the strength and location of the enemy, and even the tactical reasoning behind the orders they had received.
In some cases, field officers were not briefed on the most basic reasons for the actions they were expected to carry out. This was a direct consequence of a command doctrine that relied heavily on rigid, schematic orders issued strictly on a need-to-know basis.
Even when an officer possessed enough initiative to seek tactical flexibility in carrying out an order, he was often unable to do so effectively because he lacked the necessary information. Without understanding the broader situation, adjacent movements, or operational intent, deviation from prescribed instructions became extremely difficult. The result was a command culture that discouraged initiative and left junior leaders poorly equipped to respond to the rapidly changing conditions of modern battle.
This lengthy discussion of officer and NCO quality may seem somewhat removed from the events in Zeeland. In reality, however, it lies at the very heart of the matter. It helps explain why the performance of Dutch troops in Zeeland was often so poor.
Consider the accounts from the daily reports. Time and again, units retreating from North Brabant became separated from their officers because many officers preferred to travel together, often by car or on horseback, while their men continued on foot. Such incidents tell us much not only about the officers directly involved, but also about their superiors.
A competent battalion commander insists upon a professional yet close relationship between company commanders and platoon leaders. Likewise, a capable company commander ensures that his platoon leaders maintain close contact with their NCOs and men. If a battalion commander tolerates officers travelling separately from their troops, he has already failed in one of the most fundamental aspects of leadership.
Every soldier knows that a unit deprived of its commander quickly loses discipline, cohesion, and confidence. Only in exceptional circumstances can a respected NCO or junior soldier fill the resulting vacuum of authority.
The troops who arrived in Zeeland from North Brabant had often endured several days of combat, retreat, exhaustion, and continuous Luftwaffe attacks. Many had seen their officers disappear ahead of them while they themselves marched westward under difficult circumstances. Unsurprisingly, they lost much of their respect for those officers. When some of these officers later reappeared, they often discovered that their authority had largely evaporated.
A soldier is unlikely to retain confidence in a commander who shows little determination, appears overwhelmed by events, or shares openly in the panic and confusion affecting his men. Leadership requires composure under pressure. Once that image is lost, restoring authority becomes exceedingly difficult.
As a result, a sizeable body of troops arrived in Zeeland effectively detached from meaningful leadership. In many cases they were physically present within organised formations, but psychologically disconnected from the officers who were supposed to command them. Where officers attempted to reassert authority, they frequently found that they no longer commanded the respect of their men.
The units that had already been stationed in Zeeland before the outbreak of war faced a different challenge. They had not yet discovered whether their officers would stand firm under fire or collapse under pressure. Peacetime reputations are not always reliable indicators of wartime performance. Combat is the ultimate test of leadership, and for many officers in Zeeland that test produced disappointing results.
The evidence leads to an uncomfortable conclusion: the average Dutch officer serving in the Zeeland theatre performed poorly, often conspicuously so. When compared with the conduct of officers elsewhere in the Netherlands - where fierce fighting occurred and many commanders distinguished themselves - the contrast is striking.
Numerous incidents illustrate this pattern. There were the disturbances at the airfields of Haamstede and Vlissingen, where officers played a significant role in the breakdown of order. There were the Captains of 14 Border Battalion who abandoned the Bath Line with their troops, in contrast to the Lieutenant who remained at his post. There were the disappointing performances of company commanders in the Zanddijk Line, the repeated withdrawals of the commander responsible for the Zijpe defence, the officer who abandoned his position at the Sloedam, and the many white-flag incidents on Walcheren on 17 May. Together, these examples form a remarkable catalogue of leadership failures - and it is by no means an exhaustive list.
Against this, one may ask: what examples of exceptional leadership or noteworthy determination can be identified in Zeeland?
There are some. The anti-aircraft batteries performed admirably and so did almost all navy units. Their conduct under fire was exemplary, but significantly, these units benefited from strong and capable battery commanders. Likewise, one company in the Bath Line remained in position even after neighbouring sectors had withdrawn. Its company commander - the youngest of the three sector commanders - stayed with his men, and most of them stayed with him. The defence of Tholen can also be regarded as a respectable performance.
Yet beyond these examples, the list becomes remarkably short.
The conclusion is difficult to avoid. Zeeland was unfortunate in the quality of many of the officers assigned to its defence. This deficiency in leadership contributed significantly to the disappointing performance of Dutch forces in the province.
That conclusion is particularly uncomfortable because it coincides with criticism of the French performance. It is easy to point to the shortcomings of an ally, and there were certainly shortcomings to point to. Yet when examining the events in Zeeland, one must also confront the failings within the Dutch ranks themselves.
The question therefore arises: were the Dutch truly in a position to criticise their ally?
Given the performance of many Dutch officers and units in Zeeland, the answer is probably "no" ...