Any narration of the problems that faced us during the late summer and fall of 1942 must take them up in turn; but solutions had to evolve together. Grand strategy, tactics, procurement of landing craft and ships, allocation of supporting naval forces, organization of air forces, provision of staging and training areas, arrangements for early and later supply, and determination of actual composition of each element of each assault force—all these were matters that had to be handled progressively and simultaneously. Difficulty in any of these produced at once difficulties in all the others.
The first requisite was to determine the areas and the general strength of the attack. As early as January 1942 our governments had briefly considered, but laid aside, a plan for an American attack, labeled Gymnast, against Casablanca alone.3 It had as its object the mere denial of West Africa to the Axis as a submarine base. Later the scope of the initial plan for Gymnast was enlarged to include an attack within the Mediterranean by the British. Parenthetically, I should here remark that in all our later campaigning we never found, in West Africa, any evidence that the ports on that coast had ever been used as submarine bases by the Axis.
In fixing upon the landing areas for our expedition a primary consideration was the practicability of providing adequate air cover for our convoys, from the moment they should come within range of the hostile bombers until landings were successful. The danger range included the western Mediterranean up to Gibraltar, and extended even far west of that for the enemy’s long-range bombers. Allied carriers were not available in significant numbers; indeed, during our entire experience in the Mediterranean we never had available more than two or three carriers at any time.
Land-based aircraft had to take almost the entire load of providing air protection, and the only available spot from which this could be done was Gibraltar. This made Gibraltar the focal point of our air umbrella and this in turn fixed the distance to which we could safely proceed into the Mediterranean with surface ships. Availability of shipping limited the size of the force that could be carried, while shortages in naval escorting and support vessels limited our attack to three major points; during early planning weeks it appeared that we would be limited to two.
Four important ports or port areas, within the extreme limits of our capabilities, were indicated as desirable objectives. These were, from west to east, Casablanca on the Atlantic coast, and Oran, Algiers, and the Bône area on the Mediterranean. A successful direct landing in the Bizerte-Tunis area would have yielded great results, but that locality was far outside the range of fighter support, and since British experiences in running convoys to Malta had been only little short of disastrous, this particular project was quickly given up as beyond the bounds of justifiable risk.
However, it was extremely desirable to capture the Bizerte-Tunis area at the earliest possible moment so that we could succor Malta and by land, sea, and air operate against Rommel’s line of supply, thus assuring a victorious end to the war in Africa.
At the other end of the line, Casablanca was important at that moment for two reasons only. First, Casablanca was the terminus of a long, rickety railway line that wound its way through the Atlas Mountains and on to the eastward through Oran, Algiers, and finally into Tunisia. The capacity of the railway was small but it did offer a weak life line to our forces if the enemy should decide to advance down through Spain, which was friendly to him, and, with bombers and artillery, render the Strait of Gibraltar useless to us for maintenance purposes. Without the rail line, bad as it was, from Casablanca to Oran, all the troops sent inside the Mediterranean would then have been cut off; even their escape might have been hazardous.
The other factor that made Casablanca important was the anticipated influence of a strong landing at that point upon Spain and the Moroccan tribes. If we failed to land there it was possible that the Vichy French would carry those warlike tribes into open conflict against us, and this circumstance would almost certainly give Spain greater reason for intervening on the Axis side.
There was an unusual operational hazard connected with the Casablanca project. During the late fall and winter the northwest African coast is a forbidding one from the standpoint of small-boat landings. The long Atlantic swells break up on the beaches in terrifying fashion and even in relatively good autumn weather this condition exists, on the average, four days out of five.4 From a naval viewpoint, the risk involved in this operation would be many times greater than inside the Mediterranean, where relatively good weather was to be expected.
From the first it was clear that Oran and Algiers must be attacked under any plan of operation. Both were important ports and the airfields near Oran were essential for later operations, particularly for staging short-range fighter aircraft from Gibraltar to front lines, wherever they might happen to be. Algiers, of course, was the center of political, economic, and military activity in the area.
Fixing the flanks of the assault, then, was what we had to decide. In the one case we could attack Casablanca, Oran, and Algiers; in the other, Oran, Algiers, and Bône.
Over this question we studied long and earnestly. I came to favor, personally, taking the entire force inside the Mediterranean. I believed that Tunis was so great a prize that we should land initially as far east as Bône. Admittedly, to pass inside the Mediterranean without establishing a base at Casablanca involved additional hazard, but I felt that as long as we were risking so much we might as well put all our chips on one number with the idea that Casablanca, when cut off from the eastward, would either fall of its own weight or could be captured by columns moving back down the railway from Oran. I was influenced also by the desire to avoid the very great natural hazards involved in landing at Casablanca.
We communicated this scheme to the Combined Chiefs of Staff and found that the United States Chiefs of Staff were opposed to omitting Casablanca from the original attack plan.5 They were of the belief that the risks involved in depending entirely upon the Strait of Gibraltar for a line of communications were too great and that, in spite of the limited capacity of the Casablanca–Oran railway, we must quickly secure it as partial insurance against possible Axis attempts against the Gibraltar bottleneck. Moreover, they believed that unless a strong force landed instantly in Morocco the Spanish would be much more inclined to enter the war or to permit the Germans to use Spain as an avenue of advance against our rear. Another objection to the Bône operation was doubt as to our ability to provide adequate air cover so close in under the Axis air forces stationed in Italy and Sicily. Later losses to the hostile bombers in that port and others in the neighborhood tended to support the validity of this doubt.6 Since this decision by the Combined Chiefs of Staff made it impossible to attack Bône initially, any later advance eastward from Algiers could be accomplished only by land marches, coupled with local seaborne attacks against the smaller ports along the coast toward Tunis.
As far as I can recall, this was the only instance in the war when any part of one of our proposed operational plans was changed by intervention of higher authority. We cheerfully accepted the decision because the governing considerations were political more than tactical, and political estimates are the function of governments, not of soldiers. However, we did point out that the early capture of Tunis was, by this decision, removed from the realm of the probable to the remotely possible.7
The next major decision concerned the timing of the attack. Meteorological reports indicated that a steady deterioration of weather was to be anticipated, beginning in the early fall. Naturally, therefore, time became of the essence. Everything was done to launch the attack at the earliest possible date, even to the point of sacrificing desired strength in sea, air, and ground formations when to secure any greater strength than that having a fighting chance for success would have meant delay.
In organizing the venture one of the most important factors was the estimated political situation in North Africa. This was an extremely complicated question, which had been under study by both the United States a
nd British governments for a considerable length of time. Both governments were convinced that the expedition should be as exclusively American in complexion as it was possible to make it,8 but it was deemed equally important to make the expedition so large in numerical strength that the local French government and military commanders could logically plead “overwhelming strength” to the Vichy government and its Nazi overlords, as an excuse for the prompt surrender and later co-operation we hoped to obtain.
PUNCHING OUT A SNIPER
“The trained American possesses qualities that are almost unique. Because of his initiative and resourcefulness, his adaptability to change and his readiness to resort to expedient …” This page
Anti-Tank Gun Gets New Normandy Role (illustration credit 5.1)
CONQUEST IN SINGLE FILE
“In the advance eastward from Palermo … the only road was of the ‘shelf’ variety, a mere niche in the cliffs interrupted by bridges and culverts that the enemy invariably destroyed as he drew back fighting.” This page
Infantrymen Advance Along Sicilian Cliff (illustration credit 5.2)
Fundamentally the expedition was conceived in the hope that the French forces, officials, and population of northwest Africa would permit our entry without fighting and would join with us in the common battle against Germany. However, there was nothing in the political history of the years 1940–42 to indicate that this would occur; it was a hope rather than an expectation. Consequently we had to be prepared to fight against forces which, in all, were estimated to number 200,000.9 But our governments were clear in their instructions that we were to strive to create an ally in North Africa; we were not to act as if we were conquering a hostile territory unless this attitude should be forced upon us by continued French resistance.10 Everything that might induce the French forces in Africa to join us was incorporated into our plans, including careful wording of pronouncements and proclamations to be issued coincidentally with the beginning of the invasion.
To provide an entirely American façade to the attacking force was easy enough at Casablanca and Oran. All the attacking forces at the former place were to come directly from the United States. The Oran assault involved the U. S. 1st Infantry Division and parts of the U. S. 1st Armored Division, both then stationed in the United Kingdom. Since lack of shipping did not permit us to bring more forces directly from the United States, the only American troops that could be committed to the Algiers attack were part of the 34th Division, then in Ireland, reinforced by a regiment of the U. S. 9th Division and a Ranger battalion. This was not strong enough for the task in the event that any real resistance should be met, but British supporting units were so distributed in the landing tables that in only a few instances were they in the actual assault waves.11
Obviously the French African forces and the population would learn, soon after the initial landings, of British participation but it was believed that if entry could be gained and our friendly attitude promptly and clearly proved, possible complications would be minimized. American flags would identify our men and vehicles.
Out of study, revision, checking, and rechecking finally evolved the essentials of the attack plan, and these, regardless of changing details, were adhered to religiously. We would attack Casablanca, Oran, and Algiers. United States forces would then protect our rear in Morocco, and the British forces, as rapidly as they could land and the situation might permit, would rush for Tunis.12
I notified General Marshall of my desire to have General Patton command the Casablanca expedition and within a short time George reported to me in London, where he was thoroughly briefed on his portion of the plan.13 Hardly had he returned to Washington before I received a message stating that he had become embroiled in such a distressing argument with the Navy Department that serious thought was being given to his relief from command. Feeling certain that the difficulty, whatever its nature, was nothing more than the result of a bit of George’s flair for the dramatic, I protested at once, suggesting that if his personality was causing any difficulty in conferences the issue could be met by sending him out with his troops and allowing some staff member to represent him in the completion of planning details. In any event the matter was passed over.
I well knew that Patton delighted to startle his hearers with fantastic statements; many men who believed they knew him well never penetrated past the shell of showmanship in which he constantly and carefully clothed himself. But he was essentially a shrewd battle leader who invariably gained the devotion of his subordinates. From early life his one ambition was to be a successful battlefield commander. Because of this he was an inveterate reader of military history and his heroes were the great captains of past ages.
All the mannerisms and idiosyncrasies he developed were of his own deliberate adoption. One of his poses, for example, was that of the most hard-boiled individual in the Army. Actually he was so softhearted, particularly where a personal friend was concerned, that it was possibly his greatest fault. Later in the war he once vehemently demanded that I discharge eighty of his officers because, as he said, of inefficiency and timidity bordering on cowardice. He was so exercised and so persistent that I agreed, contingent upon his sending me a report in writing. Apparently astonished by my acquiescence, he began postponing from week to week, on one excuse or another, the submission of his list. Finally he confessed, rather sheepishly, that he had reconsidered and wanted to discharge no one.
The Center Task Force, the U. S. II Corps, to attack Oran, was under command of Major General Lloyd R. Fredendall. I had known him only slightly before the beginning of the African operation but his reputation as a fine trainer and organizer was unexcelled.
The Eastern Task Force, to capture Algiers, had a somewhat curious organization. To preserve the American character of the assaulting forces they were placed under Major General Charles W. Ryder, the commanding general of the U. S. 34th Division. He had established a splendid record in the first World War, in which he won battlefield promotions to the grade of lieutenant colonel at a very early age and had enjoyed a reputation as a sound soldier throughout the years intervening between the two wars. He was a man of sterling character and great gallantry in combat. Ryder was to lead the attack only until the city was captured. Once our Eastern Task Force was firmly established, command was to be taken over by Lieutenant General Sir Kenneth A. N. Anderson, commanding the British First Army. It was his mission to dash eastward as rapidly as the situation might permit, in an effort to secure Tunis. General Anderson was a gallant Scot, devoted to duty and absolutely selfless. Honest and straightforward, he was blunt, at times to the point of rudeness, and this trait, curiously enough, seemed to bring him into conflict with his British confreres more than it did with the Americans. His real difficulty was probably shyness. He was not a popular type but I had real respect for his fighting heart. Even his most severe critics must find it difficult to discount the smashing victory he finally attained in Tunisia.
From the inception of the invasion project, our governments carefully considered the possibility of including General de Gaulle, then in London, in Torch planning. Units under his command had taken part in the ill-fated Dakar expedition, where the attacking forces had to retire in confusion in the face of local French resistance. The British always believed that this fiasco resulted from leaks in De Gaulle’s London headquarters. Our instructions from the two governments, possibly colored by this unfortunate early experience, were to the effect that under no circumstances was any information concerning the proposed expedition to be communicated to General de Gaulle.14
There was confirmation of the assumption that General de Gaulle’s presence in the initial assaulting forces would incite determined opposition on the part of the French garrisons. During the course of our planning in London a constant stream of information came to us from consuls and other officials whom our State Department maintained in Africa throughout the war. All of this information was to the effect that in the regular officer corps of the French A
rmy De Gaulle was, at that time, considered a disloyal soldier. His standing with the resistance elements of the civil population was vastly different. But at that moment resistance elements, particularly in Africa, were inarticulate and ineffective—and we had to win over the armed services as a first objective.
It is possible to understand why De Gaulle was disliked within the ranks of the French Army. At the time of France’s surrender in 1940 the officers who remained in the Army had accepted the position and orders of their government and had given up the fight. From their viewpoint, if the course chosen by De Gaulle was correct, then every French officer who obeyed the orders of his government was a poltroon. If De Gaulle was a loyal Frenchman they had to regard themselves as cowards. Naturally the officers did not choose to think of themselves in this light; rather they considered themselves as loyal Frenchmen carrying out the orders of constituted civilian authority, and it followed that they officially and personally regarded De Gaulle as a deserter.
Nevertheless, it was known that there was a strong anti-German and anti-Vichy sentiment in North Africa, even among some of the Army officers. It was believed possible that if a sufficient show of force could be made in the initial attack all these officers might find that their honor had been satisfied by token resistance and, bowing to the inevitable, would join in the fight against the traditional foe that had humiliated them in 1940. It was a complicated and hazy situation, but keeping the expedition entirely secret from the French in London was the fixed policy of the Allied governments. An added and most important motive in doing so was the fact that only through perfect surprise could the expedition succeed. The fewer people who knew anything at all about the matter the better.
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