Crusade in Europe

by Dwight D. Eisenhower

  In one of my later trips to the front, on February 1, I again met Anderson and repeated my instructions that, in the southern sector, there must be a strong, mobile reserve.14 However, the inability of the poorly equipped French forces to withstand repeated, though light, attacks in the mountains between the British and American forces continued to defeat Anderson’s efforts to comply with these orders. He was constantly forced to plug gaps in the central sector by drawing on British and American strength.

  In early February we received information that the enemy was preparing for a more ambitious counterattack against our lines than any he had yet attempted. To provide additional strength for this counterattack, some of Rommel’s forces were hurried back from Tripoli to join Von Arnim and Messe in Tunisia. Our early information was that the attack was to be expected through the pass at Fondouk. Watchfulness was of course indicated everywhere and it became more than ever important that our mobile reserves, particularly our armored elements, be kept well concentrated in order to meet the coming attack, no matter through which of the several available passes it might be launched.

  The most dangerous area was that held by the American II Corps, stretching throughout a long line from Gafsa on the south to approximately Fondouk on the left. As quickly as possible after conferences in Algiers with various individuals who had previously attended the Casablanca meeting, I departed for that part of the front to spend a week satisfying myself that everything was in good order to receive the expected attack. I had received disappointing word from General Alexander that he could not arrive in the theater before the sixteenth or seventeenth of the month, and I felt it imperative to take personal action in the matter even though General Anderson had then been in command of the battle line for several weeks.

  I departed from Algiers just after midnight on February 12 and, holding several conferences on the way, arrived at General Fredendall’s headquarters on the afternoon of the thirteenth.15 It was my first trip as a four-star general, to which temporary grade I was promoted on February 11. I was still a lieutenant colonel in the Regular Army.

  Second Corps Headquarters had established itself in a deep and almost inaccessible ravine, a few miles east of Tebessa. It was a long way from the battle front, but, considering the length of the lines and the paucity of roads, it was probably as good a site for the main headquarters as was available. When I reached the headquarters there was a din of hammers and drills. Upon inquiring as to the cause, I learned that the corps engineers were engaged in tunneling into the sides of the ravine to provide safe quarters for the staff. I quietly asked whether the engineers had first assisted in preparing front-line defenses but a young staff officer, apparently astonished at my ignorance, said, “Oh, the divisions have their own engineers for that!” It was the only time, during the war, that I ever saw a divisional or higher headquarters so concerned over its own safety that it dug itself underground shelters.

  In company with Lieutenant Colonel Russell F. (Red) Akers, one of Fredendall’s staff officers, I promptly started on an all-night inspection of the front lines. At that time the II Corps consisted of the U. S. 1st Armored Division, the 1st Infantry Division, with the U. S. 34th Division assembling in the area. The 9th Division was under orders to join when it could come up.16

  I found a number of things that were disturbing. The first of these was a certain complacency, illustrated by an unconscionable delay in perfecting defensive positions in the passes. Lack of training and experience on the part of commanders was responsible. At one point where mine fields were not yet planted the excuse was given that the defending infantry had been present in the area only two days. The commander explained, with an air of pride, that he had prepared a map for his mine defense and would start next day to put out the mines. Our experience in north Tunisia had been that the enemy was able to prepare a strong defensive position ready to resist counterattack within two hours after his arrival on the spot. The enemy’s invariable practice upon capture of a hill or other feature was to plant his mines instantly, install his machine guns, and locate troops in nearby reserve where they could operate effectively against any force that we might send against them. These tactical lessons had apparently been ignored by commanders, even by those who had been in the theater for three months. I gave orders for immediate correction.

  But by far the most serious defect was the fact that the U. S. 1st Armored Division was still not properly concentrated to permit its employment as a unit.17 At the moment General Anderson had such meager reserves throughout his long line that he felt compelled to station half the division near Fondouk, where he expected the main enemy attack to fall, and he held this force in army reserve by keeping in his own hands the authority to commit it to action. The remainder was scattered in small detachments to the southward throughout the II Corps front. As a result the 1st Armored Division commander, Major General Orlando Ward, had nothing left under his own command except minor detachments of light tanks.

  During the night I visited along the front between Maknassy and Faid Pass. Near the latter place I decorated an American officer for gallantry only two or three hours before the German attack fell upon the positions outside the pass at Sidi-Bou-Zid.

  Brigadier General Paul McD. Robinett, an old friend of mine, was commanding an armored unit in the valley, near Fondouk. He was sure that there would be no attack at that point, and pointed out for me on the map the distance to which his reconnaissance patrols had penetrated. He said he had reported those facts several times to his superiors. I was convinced of the accuracy of his report and told him I would take the matter up the next day with the corps and army commanders.

  I spent the remainder of an exhausting night conferring with commanders and noting the matters that I wanted to take up with General Fredendall. Our little inspecting party started back before dawn, but we were delayed at Sbeitla by an outbreak of sporadic firing ahead of us. After a reconnaissance in force, in which my aide, Captain Lee, and Lieutenant Colonel Akers composed the assault wave, while I with a .45 formed the mobile reserve, we remounted our cars and made our way through the town without incident. A short time later my driver fell asleep and we ended up in a shallow ditch, but with no casualties. Upon arrival at corps headquarters I found that the German attack had already struck.18 It was too late to make changes in dispositions.

  Although during the morning frequent and, as it later turned out, very accurate reports were submitted by the American troops to General Anderson concerning the strength and direction of the German attack through Faid, these reports were discounted by the Army and AFHQ Intelligence divisions as the exaggeration of green, untried troops. The belief that the main attack was still to come through Fondouk persisted, both at Army headquarters and, as I later learned, in the G-2 Division at AFHQ.19 The G-2 error was serious. After the battle I replaced the head of my Intelligence organization at AFHQ. The result of this misconception was that the penetration gained a tremendous headway before General Anderson could understand what was actually taking place.

  Realizing by nightfall that reinforcements in men and equipment would be needed quickly and urgently, I hastened back to headquarters to hurry them forward. We scraped the barrel and then I started back to the front.

  During the withdrawal the Americans fought a series of ineffective, though gallant, delaying actions on the way back toward Kasserine Pass, a spot clearly indicated as one to be strongly held. But there was a local lack of appreciation of exactly what was happening and the troops assigned were neither numerous enough nor skillful enough to hold that strong position. The enemy armor pushed on through the hastily constructed defense in the pass.

  Finally, however, in spite of surprise and relatively large losses, our troops rallied in good fashion and fell back to cover the important center of Tebessa and the routes leading northward from Kasserine toward Le Kef.

  Our forward airfields at Thelepte had to be temporarily abandoned but the air force pulled out with no loss of personnel or ma
chines and with immaterial losses in fuel and other supplies. Just behind Tebessa was the field of Youks-les-Bains, and it was therefore doubly important for the II Corps to hold this center of communications. Farther to the north it had to resist a German penetration in the direction of Thala, toward Le Kef. The 34th Division was in position on the northern flank and, in spite of its long period of inactivity and dispersion, did good work in the defense. To help stop the enemy’s northward thrust, British artillery and tanks were rushed down from the north, where the enemy had somewhat thinned his lines in order to secure the strength for the Kasserine offensive. The artillery of the U. S. 9th Division also participated effectively in this action.20 By the evening of the twenty-first it was apparent that the enemy had stretched himself to the limit and his supply was becoming difficult. More than this, his line of communications ran through the vulnerable Kasserine Gap and his troops to the west of that point were becoming precariously exposed to attack by any forces we could bring up.

  The enemy’s advance, by the twenty-second, was completely stalled. George Patton, who always liked to bring up historical precedent, remarked, “Well, Von Arnim should have read about Lee’s attack at Fort Stedman.” There, outside Petersburg, the last desperate Confederate counterattack was stopped and driven back in bloody retreat by strong Union reserves.

  The staff, always charged with presenting the gloomy side of the picture, devised a plan to cover our movements in case the enemy should penetrate to the First Army’s main line of communications. I told them that it was useless to consider the plan further—the enemy was substantially stopped—but finally agreed that there was no objection to letting subordinates know what would have to be done should some entirely unforeseen circumstance like this occur. Alexander, Spaatz, and others agreed that the immediate danger was over, and all of us turned our attention to punishing the enemy.

  At that moment the weather, which had been so abominable as to prevent the effective use of our growing air force, took a turn for the better and all the combat planes we had were put into the fight. An embarrassing incident arose during these air attacks which, while admittedly due to lack of experience on the part of combat crews, still illustrates the technical difficulties of which critics, fighting battles from the comfort of an armchair, know nothing.

  A group of Fortresses was ordered to bomb Kasserine Pass. They took off in cloudy weather and spent some time searching for the target. Completely dependent upon dead reckoning for navigation, they became badly lost. When they finally concluded they were over the target they dropped their bombs on Souk-el-Arba, an important town within our lines and more than a hundred miles from Kasserine Pass.21 A number of Arabs were killed and wounded, and much property destroyed. We had to act fast to avoid disagreeable consequences. We had already learned that the native population would amicably settle almost any difficulty for money, and here we were so clearly in the wrong that I quickly approved the expenditure of a few thousand dollars to support our apologies; in war there frequently arise such contingencies, requiring instant availability of funds. The War Department, recognizing this, gave to each theater commander considerable credits to be used when needed.

  On the evening of the twenty-second I discussed the situation personally with General Fredendall and told him that the enemy was no longer capable of offensive action. I informed him that he was perfectly safe in taking any reasonable risk in launching local counterattacks that could be properly supported by his artillery. I was so certain of this evaluation that I told the corps commander that I would assume full responsibility for any disadvantage that might result from vigorous action on his part. Fredendall felt that the enemy had “one more shot in his locker” and believed that he should spend the next twenty-four hours in perfecting and strengthening his defenses, rather than in the attempt to concentrate enough strength for a counterattack in the direction of Kasserine. No one could quarrel violently with this decision; my own convictions and desires were based upon an anxiety to take instant advantage of the fleeting opportunity for trouncing the enemy before he could recover from his embarrassing position.

  By next morning it became apparent to everybody that the German was beginning his retreat. The enemy moved rapidly by night and, favored again by cloud cover during the day, successfully withdrew a large part of his attacking force. However, the Allies all along the front now kept up a constant pressure and the enemy was soon pushed back to his original positions, from which he never again attempted to launch a serious counterattack.22

  During the final few days of this battle General Alexander was on the ground and in command of the actual battle line. I quickly formed a great respect and admiration for his soldierly qualities, an esteem that continued to grow throughout the remainder of the war. Certain of our battle-front weaknesses, which favored early German success in the battle, were my responsibility. Had I immediately, upon the acceptance of French troops into the Allied command in November 1942, insisted unequivocally upon their battle-line subordination to General Anderson, later confusion would have been less. There would have been resentment and increased difficulty for a period, but the over-all effect would have been advantageous. Moreover, pending the closer approach of Montgomery’s army from the desert, I should have definitely limited the area on our southern flank in which the II Corps would be permitted to operate in strength. We were unquestionably attempting to do too much with too little by the southward extension of the II Corps front to include Gafsa.

  That place, in itself, would not become important to us until the desert forces should approach the southern borders of Tunisia and active co-operation between the two armies become possible. However, it was the best position from which to cover, from the south, any raid or attack against the important airfield at Thelepte. We had a crying need for forward airfields and the best of all these was the one at Thelepte. It lay in a sandy plain, and operations from it were never interrupted by rain; only the occasional sandstorm impeded its use. Because of the advantages of this airfield, we placed on it large air formations with comparable quantities of supplies and repair facilities. A better disposition would have been to send to Gafsa only a reconnaissance detachment, and to keep defending forces farther to the rear. The holding of Gafsa tended to weaken other portions of the long front held by the II Corps, and since the U. S. 1st Armored Division was not held in one body for active and powerful counterattack, the whole situation presented obvious risks.

  Technically, our embarrassment resulted from four principal causes. The first and vastly most important of these was the inescapable conditions resulting from failure in our long-shot gamble to capture Tunis quickly. This gamble had been made on my personal orders. Afterward, dispersed units could not quickly be brought together and prepared for the hostile reactions we were certain would follow. Had I been willing, at the end of November, to admit temporary failure and pass to the defensive, no attack against us could have achieved even temporary success.

  The second major reason was faulty work by Intelligence agencies. Staffs were too prone to take one isolated piece of intelligence in which they implicitly believed and to shut their eyes to any contrary possibility. They decided that the German attack was to come through Fondouk, and although we had reconnaissance units in the Ousseltia Valley, near Fondouk, who insisted the German was not concentrating in that area, the Intelligence section blindly persisted in its conviction. This caused the army commander to make faulty dispositions.

  The third reason was the failure to comprehend clearly the capabilities of the enemy and the best measures for meeting them. The situation on the II Corps front called for the holding of mountain passes with light reconnaissance and delaying elements, with the strongest possible mobile reserves immediately in rear to strike swiftly and in strength at any penetration of the mountain barrier. Instructions for the general nature of the defense were positive in this regard but local fears, and again faulty intelligence, led to a dispersion of the mobile reserves that rendere
d them ineffective when the attack came.23

  A fourth cause was greenness, particularly among commanders. The American divisions involved had not had the benefit of the intensive training programs instituted in the United States following the actual outbreak of the war. They were mainly divisions that had been quickly shipped to the United Kingdom, and since transportation facilities had not yet acquired their later efficiency, they had been separated from their organic equipment for long periods. Training, during a major part of 1942, was for them a practical impossibility. Commanders and troops showed the effects of this, and although there was no lack of gallantry and fortitude, their initial effectiveness did not compare with that of the American divisions later brought into action after a full year’s intensive training.

  These lessons were dearly bought, but they were valuable. Eventually the cost was reduced, since most of our personnel losses were in prisoners, whom we largely recovered at the end of the war. We suffered casualties in personnel and equipment, but by the time the enemy had succeeded in retiring to his former positions his losses in both categories were equal to ours. American losses from February 14 to 23 were 192 killed, 2624 wounded, 2459 prisoners and missing.24

  The week of the hostile offensive was a wearing and anxious one. Whenever the initiative is lost to the enemy there is bound to be tension and worry, because it is always possible for anything to happen. No one escapes; in spite of confidence in the over-all situation and eventual outcome, there is always the possibility of local disasters.

  The Kasserine battle marked the end of a phase of the campaign. With the defeat of the German attack it was obvious that his last chance of major offensive action was ended, but he did, within a short time, begin a series of savage local attacks against the British First Army in the north.25 All through March this bitter battling continued, the German attempting to deepen and strengthen his defensive zone covering Tunis and Bizerte, the British trying to hold and regain positions favoring a final smashing offensive. The incessant fighting and the length of the front to be covered by depleted formations finally compelled Alexander to use a part of the U. S. 1st Division to help the First Army. However, the German attacks were largely frontal and held no danger of the enemy’s achieving any momentous advantage. This certainty permitted us to resume the process of sorting and reorganizing our battle lines, improving our administration, and otherwise preparing for a major offensive as soon as weather conditions should be favorable.