5049 fighter aircraft
3467 heavy bombers
1645 medium, light, and torpedo bombers
698 other combat aircraft
2316 transport aircraft
2591 gliders
233 LSTs (a large vessel capable of unloading tanks and heavy trucks directly on the beach)
835 LCTs
6 battleships and 2 monitors
22 cruisers
93 destroyers
159 smaller fighting craft, not including motor torpedo boats, PT boats, and mine layers
255 mine sweepers
The combat planes enumerated here comprise only those actually with squadrons. The total of the landing craft, merchant ships, and naval fighting vessels was more than 6000. This figure does not include “ducks” or swimming tanks.8
There were heavy contingents of base troops, transport units, ground crews, hospitals, and every type of repair and maintenance organization. The Allied strength in land, sea, and air on that day was 2,876,439 officers and men assigned to the Expeditionary Forces. Added to this were forty-one divisions which would be ready to sail from the United States with their equipment and supplies at as rapid a rate as ports in Britain, and those that could be gained on the Continent, could receive them. Moreover, ten additional divisions, some of them French, were scheduled to join in the attack from the Mediterranean sector.9 Some of our most important and vitally essential equipment did not arrive until May 1944, on the eve of the invasion.
But consider the picture in June 1942.
The United States was just getting into its stride in the mobilization and training of its armies, navies, and air forces. Only the 34th Division, the 1st Armored Division, and small detachments of the United States Air Forces had arrived in northern Ireland.10 They were still only partially trained. The great bulk of the fighting equipment, naval, air, and ground, needed for the invasion did not exist. Some of the landing craft were not yet in the blueprint stage. Production limitations alone ruled out any possibility of a full-scale invasion in 1942 or early 1943. Indeed, it soon became clear that unless practically all American and British production could be concentrated on the single purpose of supporting the invasion of Europe that operation could not take place until early 1944.
Manifestly these things could not be explained to the public. The enemy would have given much to know just what were our prospects in the impedimenta of invasion, and we went to every length to deny him any possible access to this information. So while uninformed, homeland strategists could and did shout “timidity, procrastination, indecision,” we at least had the satisfaction of hoping that the Nazi likewise overestimated our capabilities.
The United States Army had already taken over, for headquarters purposes, a large apartment building in the heart of London. I disliked the idea of establishing an operating headquarters in a great city but for the moment there seemed no alternative. Housing was a problem and the largest number of available hotel and other quarters was near Grosvenor Square, the site of our building. The great portion of our early activity would involve constant conferences with civil and military officers in the British Government and transport was so lacking that proximity to our principal points of contact was a necessity. Add to this the fact that we simply could not find accommodations outside the city big enough to house the staff and were not yet in position to build hut camps, and it is easy to see why I accepted defeat in my first organizational idea and settled down in London, temporarily.
General headquarters for American naval interests in Europe was commanded by Admiral Stark, previously Chief of Naval Operations.11 His office was independent of mine, but immediately upon my arrival he came to me and said, “The only real reason for the existence of my office is to assist the United States fighting forces in Europe. You may call on me at any hour, day or night, for anything you wish. And when you do, call me ‘Betty,’ a nickname I’ve always had in the service.”
United States naval forces allocated to me for the proposed operation were commanded by Rear Admiral Andrew C. Bennett, who reported as my immediate subordinate soon after my own arrival in London. The naval contingent was expected to be little more than a training organization for many months. This was, however, a most important feature of our plans: amphibious training on a large scale would have to precede any invasion of the Continent.
My first job was to collect and organize a working team. General Marshall approved my request for Brigadier General Walter B. Smith as my chief of staff. He was a godsend—a master of detail with clear comprehension of main issues. Serious, hard-working, and loyal, he proved equally as capable in difficult conference as he was in professional activity. Strong in character and abrupt by instinct, he could achieve harmony without appeasement, and earned for himself an enviable standing throughout the armies and governments of Europe. He reached London on September 7 and there began a personal friendship and official association which lasted throughout the war.
While plans visualized an eventual force to be numbered in the millions, I was determined to avoid the curse of early over-organization in the ground forces. To begin with, we brought over, as the highest ground headquarters, only the II Corps, to the command of which I assigned General Clark.12 I knew that during the months that must elapse before troops and supplies could be accumulated in sufficient numbers for a major attack we would have time to bring over the several army headquarters we would need. Thus was avoided the confusion certain to ensue from the immediate presence of many senior staffs, each with little to do except add to general congestion. By building up from the bottom we kept all our preparatory work concrete and specific and had time for the careful selection of high commanders. We established II Corps in Salisbury Plain, the best training ground in the United Kingdom.
Major General John C. H. Lee reported to me to command our Services of Supply. He at once began the appalling task of preparing ports and building warehouses, camps, airfields, and repair facilities, all of which would be needed before we could start an offensive from the British base. The work accomplished under his direction was so vital to success and so vast in proportion that its description would require a book in itself. By the time the cross-Channel assault was launched, two years later, the United Kingdom was one gigantic air base, workshop, storage depot, and mobilization camp. It was claimed facetiously at the time that only the great number of barrage balloons floating constantly in British skies kept the islands from sinking under the seas.
In the American headquarters in Europe organizational plans followed the conventional pattern of a general and special staff. One problem that arose early and bothered us throughout the campaigns in Europe was how to separate administrative from operational matters without setting up an additional headquarters. American law and regulations give a theater commander a vast amount of administrative responsibility and authority, much of which he must exercise personally. How to free a mobile, tactical staff from the vast bulk of this work, which ordinarily must be performed at a fixed, stable headquarters, and still observe economy in highly trained personnel is always a problem. It was difficult from the beginning, but did not become really bothersome until I was given the additional assignment of Allied commander. For the moment we adopted a temporary solution, realizing that England itself would eventually be merely a base, not a theater of operations. General Lee, as commander of our Services of Supply and the British base, was charged with handling administration.
The organizational plan for air was pressing in point of time. We intended to participate as quickly as possible in the bombing campaign against Germany. The Eighth Air Force was allocated to our theater, with General Spaatz assigned to me as its commander.13 From the time of his arrival at London in July he was never long absent from my side until the last victorious shot had been fired in Europe. On every succeeding day of almost three years of active war I had new reasons for thanking the gods of war and the War Department for giving me “Tooey” Spaatz. He shunned the lime
light and was so modest and retiring that the public probably never became fully cognizant of his value.
All these preliminary organizational tasks were normal to such enterprises. They had been anticipated and therefore were soon disposed of, so far as immediate needs were concerned. Another task for which we had to organize very specifically was almost unique in character. It involved the fitting of our training, building, and organizational activities into British life.
The plan to bring large fighting forces to Great Britain required those highly populated islands to ready themselves for the absorption of 2,000,000 Americans and to provide for them necessary facilities, including training grounds, in which to prepare for the great invasion. England’s insufficiency in food supplies had already led to a program of placing even submarginal ground under intensive cultivation, while, to save fuel and power, all unnecessary transportation and power facilities had been eliminated. Our friendly invasion would vastly increase the strain on the population. The whole of the British Isles is only slightly larger than Colorado. Certain portions were either unusable or unsuited to our purpose. Southern Ireland was neutral, while Scotland was short of suitable areas for training. Almost the entire burden was thrown onto the crowded sections of middle and southern England, with some troops stationed in North Ireland. We had to expect inevitable clashes with civilian processes, and in spite of the best will in the world on both sides, we had to anticipate, and do our best to prevent, mutual irritations that would naturally lead to misunderstandings and could not fail to impede the war effort.
Except during World War I, the United States public has habitually looked upon Europe’s quarrels as belonging to Europe alone. For this reason every American soldier coming to Britain was almost certain to consider himself a privileged crusader, sent there to help Britain out of a hole. He would expect to be treated as such. On the other hand, the British public looked upon itself as one of the saviors of democracy, particularly because, for an entire year, it had stood alone as the unbreakable opponent of Nazism and the European Axis. Failure to understand this attitude would of course have unfortunate results.
If the United Kingdom had possessed great open spaces in which to concentrate the American forces, the problem would have been less acute, but because of the density of population every soldier arriving in England made living conditions just that much more difficult. Every American truck on the streets, and every piece of ground withdrawn from cultivation, added to the irritations.
Fortunately all this was foreseen and discussed frankly with the leaders of the British war effort. Our principal collaborator was Mr. Brendan Bracken, head of the Ministry of Information. He seemed to be as controversial a figure in British life as Harry Hopkins was in ours, but he was always helpful to us and, equally important, he was decisive and energetic. He had another characteristic particularly noticeable among a people normally regarded as conservative and correct. Until I met him I had always regarded the American cow-puncher as the world’s greatest master of picturesque expression. The effect of Bracken’s language was always heightened by the rasping intensity of his voice.
Intensive programs were devised with Bracken’s splendid organization to fit the newly arrived Americans into the highly complex life of a thickly populated area in such a way as to minimize trouble. Of these programs, probably the most successful was education of both sides, coupled with intermingling in homes and public places. Through Brendan Bracken the British public was constantly informed as to what to expect. He explained the necessity for further accommodation and sacrifices among the whole population, and the need for tolerance. At the same time educational pamphlets and literature were distributed to American troops before their embarkation from the United States.14 These were written in the vernacular and contained specific suggestions to facilitate the adjustment of American soldiers to the new environment.
Wherever possible, newly arrived American personnel were taken on a short tour through Britain’s bombed areas. The American Red Cross and the several relief and welfare organizations of Great Britain helped institute a system of home entertainment of American GIs by British families.15 I have never yet met an American soldier who, after spending a week end with a British family, did not feel that America had a staunch and sturdy Ally. We found, however, that a British family, inspired by a determination to show real hospitality, was likely to utilize an entire week’s rations to entertain an American over Sunday. At once we encouraged visiting soldiers to carry rations with them on these home visits, while a publicity campaign explained the matter to the British hosts, so as to save their pride and preclude embarrassment. In every direction where we expected trouble we instituted preventive measures—generally with success. The keynote of the campaign was avoidance of mawkish sentimentality and the basing of all our programs on facts—with emphasis on opportunity for personal discovery of facts. Everyone who occupied a responsible position in Britain during that time will always have a feeling of gratitude and admiration for the almost universal spirit of co-operation, tolerance, and friendship displayed by both sides.
This type of problem brought immediately to the fore the need for an effective Public Relations Section of the headquarters. Our concern was emphasized by the necessity for keeping two populations, the American and the British, informed on a variety of subjects. I began the practice of holding short, informal conferences with the press, for the purpose of discussing our mutual problems and finding common solutions for them. I insisted that they occupy positions as quasi-staff officers on my staff, and I respected their collective responsibilities in the war as they did mine.
My first press conference had a curious result. Prior to my arrival in England censorship had been established by American headquarters on stories involving minor difficulties between Negro troops and other soldiers, or civilians. These incidents frequently involved social contacts between our Negro soldiers and British girls. The British population, except in large cities and among wealthy classes, lacks the racial consciousness which is so strong in the United States. The small-town British girl would go to a movie or dance with a Negro quite as readily as she would with anyone else, a practice that our white soldiers could not understand. Brawls often resulted and our white soldiers were further bewildered when they found that the British press took a firm stand on the side of the Negro.
When I learned at the press conference that stories of this kind were on the censored list I at once revoked the order and told the pressmen to write as they pleased—urging them only not to lose their perspective. To my astonishment, several reporters spoke up to ask me to retain the ban, giving me a number of arguments in support of their recommendations. They said that troublemakers would exaggerate the importance of the incidents and that the reports, taken up at home, would cause domestic dissension. I thanked them but stuck to my point, with the result that little real excitement was ever caused by ensuing stories. It was a lesson I tried always to remember.
Progress in these matters of administration, preparation, training, planning, had to go forward simultaneously. An early deficiency in our wartime Army involved a dismaying lack of comprehension on the part of our soldiers as to fundamental causes of the war. Differences between democracy and totalitarianism were matters of academic rather than personal interest; soldiers saw no apparent reason why conflict between the two was any concern of America. No matter what clash of opinion had existed on the point before the war began, a clear, simple, and commonly held understanding was now essential among our troops. An attendant deficiency was a similar lack of comprehension as to the need for battle discipline and for incessant training in teamwork and in the employment of weapons.
Both subjects evoked frequent comment by observant press representatives. The matter could not be dismissed—as some commanders tried to do—with the complacent statement that all of this came about because the troops were not yet “blooded.” There has always existed a curious notion that instant perfection in these matter
s comes about with the first whistle of a hostile bullet. Admittedly there are certain things to be learned from battle experience that can be absorbed in no other way. On the other hand, any commander who permits a unit to enter battle lacking any advantage, any needed instruction, or any useful understanding that could be imparted to that unit beforehand, is guilty of a grave crime against the soldiers he leads.
That a soldier should understand why he is fighting would not seem to be an arguable point. Yet I have heard commanders attempt to oversimplify this psychological problem with the assertion that soldiers fight for only a few simple and essentially local reasons. Among these they include pride in a unit, respect for the opinion of comrades, and blind devotion to an immediate leader. These things are important and the wise commander will neglect none of them in his effort to produce a first-class fighting unit in which all the members are so trained that chances of success—and individual survival—are raised to the maximum. But the American soldier, in spite of wisecracking, sometimes cynical speech, is an intelligent human being who demands and deserves basic understanding of the reasons why his country took up arms and of the conflicting consequences of victory or defeat. Von Steuben commented vividly on this point during the American Revolution. He explained in a letter to a friend that in Europe you tell a soldier to do thus, and he does it; and that in America it is necessary also to tell him why he does it.
Once the recruit of 1941 was inducted into the service the military leader had to shoulder almost exclusive responsibility for imparting such an understanding, but there was implied a glaring deficiency in our country’s educational processes. It seemed to me that constant stressing of the individual rights and privileges of American citizenship had overshadowed the equally important truth that such individualism can be sustained only so long as the citizen accepts his full responsibility for the welfare of the nation that protects him in the exercise of these rights.
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