Crusade in Europe

by Dwight D. Eisenhower

  The outcome of the Tunisian campaign was of course eminently satisfactory, but the high command was so busily engaged in preparation for the Sicilian attack that little opportunity was available for celebration. However, a Victory Parade was held in Tunis on the twentieth to mark the end of the Axis Empire in Africa.

  The very magnitude of our victory, at least of our captures, served to intensify our difficulties in preparing for the Sicilian affair. We had more than a quarter of a million prisoners corralled in Tunisia, where poor communications made feeding and guarding difficult and rapid evacuation impossible.47 But the end of the campaign did have the effect of freeing commanders and staffs from immediate operations and allowed them to turn their full attention to the matter next in hand. Preparatory planning had been going on ever since February in a special group attached to Allied Headquarters but operating under General Alexander. This group was now absorbed completely in General Alexander’s staff and the whole process of preparation was vastly speeded up.

  The Tunisian victory was hailed with delight throughout the Allied nations. It clearly signified to friend and foe alike that the Allies were at last upon the march. The Germans, who had during the previous winter suffered also the great defeat of Stalingrad and had been forced to abandon their other offensives on the Russian front in favor of a desperate defense, were compelled after Tunisia to think only of the protection of conquests rather than of their enlargement.

  Within the African theater one of the greatest products of the victory was the progress achieved in the welding of Allied unity and the establishment of a command team that was already showing the effects of a growing confidence and trust among all its members. It is easy to minimize the obstacles that always obstruct progress in developing efficient command mechanisms for large allied forces. Some are easy to recognize, such as those relating to differences in equipment, training and tactical doctrine, staff procedures and methods of organization. But these are overshadowed by national prides and prejudices.

  In modern war, with its great facilities for quickly informing populations of battlefield developments, every little difference is magnified, and a soldier fighting for his life is likely to be a very temperamental organism. Even tried veterans, normally selfless and serene, can react suddenly and explosively to a headline story favoring, in their opinion, another nationality. The problem is delicate, tricky, and important—but success in allied ventures can be achieved if the chief figures in the government and in the field see the necessities of the situation and refuse to violate the basic principle of unity, either in public or in the confidence of the personal contacts with subordinates and staffs. Immediate and continuous loyalty to the concept of unity and to allied commanders is basic to victory. The instant such commanders lose the confidence of either government or of the majority of their principal subordinates, they must be relieved.

  This was the great Allied lesson of Tunisia; equally important, on the technical side, was the value of training. Thorough technical, psychological, and physical training is one protection and one weapon that every nation can give to its soldiers before committing them to battle, but since war always comes to a democracy as an unexpected emergency, this training must be largely accomplished in peace. Until world order is an accomplished fact and universal disarmament a logical result, it will always be a crime to excuse men from the types and kinds of training that will give them a decent chance for survival in battle. Many of the crosses standing in Tunisia today are witnesses to this truth.

  Chapter 9

  HUSKY

  DURING THE FINAL WEEKS OF THE TUNISIAN campaign, particularly after the outcome could be definitely foreseen, major staffs were busy planning our next campaign. As directed by the Casablanca Conference, this was to be the capture of Sicily.1 At the time of the conference, alternative missions for the Mediterranean forces were discussed by the Combined Chiefs of Staff. One of these was to assault Sicily with the least practicable delay; the other was to capture Sardinia and Corsica.

  My own opinion, given to the conference in January, was that Sicily was the proper objective if our primary purpose remained the clearing of the Mediterranean for use by Allied shipping. Sicily abuts both Africa and Italy so closely that it practically severs the Mediterranean, and its capture would greatly reduce the hazards of using that sea route. On the other hand, if the real purpose of the Allies was to invade Italy for major operations to defeat that country completely, then I thought our proper initial objectives were Sardinia and Corsica. Estimates of hostile strength indicated that these two islands could be taken by smaller forces than would be needed in the case of Sicily, and therefore the operation could be mounted at an earlier date. Moreover, since Sardinia and Corsica lie on the flank of the long Italian boot, the seizure of those islands would force a very much greater dispersion of enemy strength in Italy than would the mere occupation of Sicily, which lies just off the mountainous toe of the peninsula.

  This discussion served to focus attention once more upon the desirability of fixing, once and for all, ultimate objectives within the Mediterranean. It was completely normal that some differences in conviction should obtain—we were not yet far enough along in the process of defeating the Axis to produce crystal-clear and unanimous conclusions as to the specific actions that would obviously produce victory. General Marshall and I shared the belief that everything done in the Mediterranean should continue to be subsidiary to and in support of the main purpose of attacking across the Channel in early 1944. In this we were supported by some, but others held that, in war, opportunity should be exploited as it arises, and that if things went well in the “soft underbelly” we should not pause merely because we had made up our minds to conduct the cross-Channel operation. The doctrine of opportunism, so often applicable in tactics, is a dangerous one to pursue in strategy. Significant changes in the field of strategy have repercussions all the way back to the factory and the training center. They must be carefully scrutinized. Moreover, in the specific case, all the original reasons for adopting the cross-Channel operation as our basic strategic aim were still valid. However, even while adhering faithfully to this purpose there still remained important questions, then and later, as to the best methods of using the forces in the south for supporting the great projected attack of 1944.

  At Casablanca the Sicily operation was decided upon for two reasons, the first of which was its great immediate advantage in opening up the Mediterranean sea routes. The second was that because of the relatively small size of the island its occupation after capture would not absorb unforeseen amounts of Allied strength in the event that the enemy should undertake any large-scale counteraction. This reason weighed heavily with General Marshall—moreover, this decision, in January 1943, avoided a commitment to indefinite strategic offensives in the area. Successful attack would advance our bomber bases still farther, but we would not necessarily be drawn into a campaign that would continuously devour valuable resources. The Combined Chiefs of Staff ordered that Alexander, in addition to serving as my deputy, should also be the ground commander of the Sicilian operation.2

  The importance of Mediterranean bases for furthering our bombing campaign against central Germany was always a factor in the development of plans. During the spring of 1943 a project was developed in Washington for a special bombing effort from an African base against the Ploesti oil fields, the most important single source of natural oil available to the Axis.3 It was worked out on an academic basis and a special staff group came from Washington to explain the plan to us.4 Because of heavy defenses, the distance to the target—the fields were in Rumania—the nature of the terrain, and the alleged efficacy of “horizontal” bombing, the plan called for a single surprise attack, conducted at treetop height and with every crew briefed to attack a particular facility in the great installation. The originators of the plan had worked out mathematical probabilities in great detail and then provided strength on the basis of double the bombers deemed necessary. They calcul
ated that the attack could achieve near perfection in its destructive results.

  One feature to which we objected was the confidence placed in the efficacy of a single attack. Too often we had found that factories listed by our experts as destroyed were again working at full output within a matter of weeks or even days. We raised another question as to the advisability of the undertaking. The target selected was a great refinery, but our information led us to believe that the enemy had a surplus of refining capacity and that his true oil shortage was in production and distribution facilities. Our doubts and objections were not, however, decisive in the matter because the air units to be used were specially sent to us from the United States for the execution of this particular mission.

  The attack was carried out, with great gallantry—five Medals of Honor were awarded—on August 1.5 As usual, mathematical calculations could not win over unexpected conditions, but the effort was reasonably successful. This was the second American raid against Ploesti. While I was still chief of operations in the spring of 1942 a small detachment of big planes had taken off from Near East bases on a surprise attack, but nothing was accomplished and the planes were mainly lost. Some were interned when they had to come down in Turkey. The early attempt, called the Halverson Project (HALPRO), because of the name of its commander, did something to dispel the illusion that a few big planes could win a war.6

  Development of the Sicilian plan, assigned the code name Husky, began in February. The major points to be decided were the strength of the attack, its timing, and its exact location. Manifestly we could not depend entirely upon the employment of troops that were then engaged in the Tunisian battle. To do this would force us to defer decisions respecting timing until after the final battle in Africa, and since this date could not be accurately predetermined, all other planning would have been indecisive and commanders and staffs could not have proceeded with confidence.

  Considering the strength of the enemy garrison, we felt that some five or six divisions should be deployed in the initial landing. An invasion on this scale required the concentration of a very considerable number of landing craft and additional fighting vessels of the Navy.

  During the spring months of 1943 we kept in constant communication with the Combined Chiefs of Staff to determine the amount of the resources upon which we could count and the time at which they could be made available. The United States staff found that it could send us a splendidly trained division, the 45th, properly loaded on convoys for the assault. In addition we had the 3d, which we did not plan to use in the Tunisian battle. Moreover, our plans called for the release of the U. S. 1st Division from the Tunisian battle area as quickly as success was sure. These three divisions, reinforced by the 2d Armored Division, still in Morocco, paratroop elements of the 82d Airborne Division, and Rangers were to make up the American portion of the assaulting forces.7 On the British side it was determined to bring into the assault a Canadian division from England, while the Eighth Army was able, some time before the end of the Tunisian campaign, to detach part of its strength to prepare for the Sicilian assault.8 These forces were to attack Sicily in early July, and all preparation was based upon the keeping of that target date. Because of the location of our troops and embarkation points, the convoys would converge upon the island from the east, the west, and the south.

  Selection of the assaulting areas was a complicated problem. From the standpoint of ease of approach from our scattered ports, protection of our communications, and the nature of the coast line, the southeastern portions of the island looked favorable, yet the supply staffs were convinced that a force of the size contemplated could not be maintained over available beaches. Even assuming the early capture of Syracuse on the eastern coast of the island, the technical experts flatly stated that without additional ports the operation would be defeated by lack of reinforcements, ammunition, and other supplies. The alternative was to arrange the attack so as to gain quickly more points and ports of entry, but since strength in landing craft was limited, each of these attacks would be relatively weak. Experience up to that time led us largely to discount the quality of the defense to be put up by the Italian formations; however, in the coming operation they would be defending their own territory, which could easily make a great difference.

  Our Intelligence staffs were vitally concerned with the strength of the German garrison. We felt—and later experience proved that our estimate was reasonable—that if the German garrison at the time of attack should be substantially greater than two fully manned and equipped divisions, then the assault as we were planning it was too weak and we would be wise to defer the operation until we could effect a greater concentration of our own forces.9

  Because of the estimated inability to supply several assault divisions and their reinforcements over the southern and eastern beaches, we studied and tentatively adopted a plan that contemplated assault by echelon, beginning in the southeast, followed by a second one in the south, and a third in the vicinity of Palermo on the north coast.10 The idea was that each would provide air cover for the following one and the result would be to give us a number of beaches and ports at the earliest possible date, thus facilitating supply.

  The danger in such an operation was that failure in any particular assault would cancel out the following ones, and even if initial landings were successful, later concentration would be difficult, and we ran the risk of defeat in detail. This last possibility we did not consider serious unless before the attack could begin the German strength defending the garrison should reach the danger point, namely, substantially over two divisions. But the plan was complicated and that is always a disadvantage. At first, however, it appeared to be the only possible solution to the problem.

  As time went on it was evident that the German was moving to stiffen up the garrison in Sicily, but our information led us to believe that he had not yet attained, or at least passed, what we considered to be the critical level.

  No one really liked the plan for echelon attack. Its complications, dispersion, and successive rather than simultaneous assaults were cited as risks outweighing the chance of defeat through lack of port facilities. Montgomery, especially, always a believer in the power concept, desired to throw heavy forces into the southeastern portion of the island.11 The supply staffs were again required to study the problem, and now they came to a more optimistic estimate than they had some weeks previously.

  This change resulted from the unforeseen availability of a considerable number of LSTs and the quantity production of the “duck,” an amphibious vehicle that proved to be one of the most valuable pieces of equipment produced by the United States during the war. Incidentally, four other pieces of equipment that most senior officers came to regard as among the most vital to our success in Africa and Europe were the bulldozer, the jeep, the 2½-ton truck, and the C-47 airplane. Curiously enough, none of these is designed for combat.

  With considerable quantities of improved equipment in sight, the supply staffs agreed that their estimates could be markedly revised upward, and plans were crystallized on the basis of the British forces moving against the eastern coast and the American against the eastern part of the southern coast.12

  Before leaving this point, a word upon the “might-have-been” of the alternate plan. Some professionals and others have since vigorously asserted to me that if we had correctly evaluated the low combat value of the huge Italian garrison we would have stuck to the “encircling” plan and so overrun the island in ten to fifteen days rather than in the thirty-eight eventually required. Moreover, it is alleged, we would have captured the German core of the defending forces instead of merely driving it back into Italy. It is possible that with Syracuse, Gela, and Palermo quickly in our hands we might have been able to capture Messina, the key point, before the Germans could have concentrated sufficiently to defeat any of our attacks. But not even by hindsight can it be said with certainty that the whole Italian garrison would quit—I still believe that we were wise to concentrate
as much as possible, and to proceed methodically to the conquest of an island in which the defending strength was approximately 350,000.13 In any event the simple, simultaneous attack became the adopted plan.

  To conduct the British portion of the attack General Alexander designated the Eighth Army under General Montgomery, while on the American side General Patton, who had been brought out of the Tunisian battle in the middle of April, was placed in command. General Alexander was to be in immediate charge of the ground assault; his headquarters was designated Fifteenth Army Group.14

  While these plans were still in preparation, study indicated the desirability of first seizing the island of Pantelleria, lying roughly between Sicily and the northeastern coast of Tunisia. This island was popularly known as the “Gibraltar of the central Mediterranean” and was assumed by many to be unassailable. It possessed an airfield from which Axis planes were able to operate against us but, more than this, we badly needed the airfield ourselves in order to supply additional air support for the Sicilian attacks. Except for small numbers of P-38s, we were still using the short-range British Spitfires and American P-40s, and to bring their bases closer to their intended target would be of tremendous advantage.

  Topographically Pantelleria presented almost dismaying obstacles to an assault. Its terrain was entirely unsuited to the use of airborne troops, while its coast line was so rocky that only through the mouth of the island’s one tiny harbor was it possible to land troops from assault boats. We would obviously have to use an attack of a blasting nature; that is, the volume of fire on the point of attack would have to be so great that, in spite of the lack of surprise, our assaulting troops could get ashore and make good their position.

  Many of our experienced commanders and staff officers strongly advised against attempting this operation, since any failure would have a disheartening effect on the troops to be committed against the Sicilian shore. However, Admiral Cunningham, in particular, agreed with me that the place could be taken at slight cost. We based our conviction upon the assumption that most Italians had had a stomachful of fighting and were looking for any good excuse to quit. We believed that if the island were subjected for several days and nights to an intensive air bombardment, denying the garrison any chance for sleep or rest, the assault, if supported heavily by naval gunfire, would be relatively easy. The garrison might even surrender beforehand.