Crusade in Europe

by Dwight D. Eisenhower

  As a result I determined to keep Patton. I first wrote him a sharp letter of reprimand in which I informed him that repetition of such an offense would be cause for his instant relief. I informed him, also, that his retention as a commander in my theater would be contingent upon his offering an apology to the two men whom he had insulted. I demanded also that he apologize to all the personnel of the hospital present at the time of the incident. Finally, I required that he appear before the officers and representative groups of enlisted men of each of his divisions to assure them that he had given way to impulse and respected their positions as fighting soldiers of a democratic nation.15

  Patton instantly complied and I kept in touch with results again through a series of observers and inspectors.

  In the meantime, as soon as I had determined upon my course of action, I called in to see me the group of reporters who had brought me the story of the occurrence. I explained to them in detail the action I had taken and the reasons for it. I read them the letter I had written to Patton and extracts from the letter he wrote me in reply. This, so far as I was then concerned, closed the incident.

  On one point connected with the matter there has been considerable misapprehension. This was the assumption that censorship was applied. On the contrary, my staff and General Patton were told that under no circumstances was there to be any effort to suppress the story. These specific instructions, which I issued personally to a group of newspapermen, covered “indirect pressure” as well as direct censorship. They were flatly told to use their own judgment!16 That they voluntarily refused to write or speak about the matter is proved by the fact that two of the press representatives who made a detailed report to me of the affair returned to the United States within a few days after the occurrence. They were then no longer under the direct or indirect influence of Allied Headquarters. They were Demaree Bess and Quentin Reynolds.

  However, the aftermath connected with this episode temporarily strained our usually splendid relations with the press. When, months later, the story finally reached Washington via the gossip route, a great public uproar immediately followed its broadcast by a commentator. To play fair with the pressmen in our own headquarters, my chief of staff decided to hold an informal press conference to supply any details of information that they might lack. My only instructions to him were, “Tell the full truth.”

  During this later conference a question was posed concerning disciplinary action against Patton, and the chief of staff replied that no reprimand had been administered, which was correct technically, since the reprimand had not been recorded in the official files. But it was factually wrong, and immediately the conference was over a reporter called me on the phone to protest what he called “the shabby treatment of the press.” Instantly I issued orders for correction. But the damage was done and the story already in America; and this only ten minutes later! The chief of staff ruefully regretted his error; his self-blame was so great that it was clear he’d never again be guilty of that kind of error. Moreover, it emphasized to both of us the speed with which newspapermen acted. In dealing with them we plainly had to be right the first time.17

  After the incident was all over my old friend George sent me a long letter in which the following appeared: “I am at a loss to find words with which to express my chagrin and grief at having given you, a man to whom I owe everything and for whom I would gladly lay down my life, cause to be displeased with me.”

  The results of the Sicilian campaign were more far-reaching than the mere capture of the enemy garrison. As already noted, the bombastic Mussolini was thrown out. Evidence of unrest and dissatisfaction throughout the Italian nation became more and more pronounced and it was obvious that Italy was seeking the easiest way out of the war. Mussolini’s place as Premier was taken by old Field Marshal Pietro Badoglio.18 The initial pronouncements of the latter indicated his government’s purpose to continue in the war, but it was clear that this statement was made merely in the hope of placating the Germans and giving the Italians a chance to escape punishment from their arrogant ally.

  The Italian hope of independently negotiating a surrender was slim indeed, because throughout the Italian governmental structure Mussolini had permitted or had been forced to accept the infiltration of countless Germans, all of whom were ready to pounce upon the first sign of defection and to take over the Italian nation in name as well as in fact. But in spite of German watchfulness the Italian Government attempted to reach us by sending an agent to Lisbon.19 I sent there two of my most trusted staff officers, my chief of staff, General Smith, and my Intelligence officer, Brigadier, later Major General Kenneth Strong, to act as emissaries in arranging for the unconditional surrender of the Italian forces.

  Then began a series of negotiations, secret communications, clandestine journeys by secret agents, and frequent meetings in hidden places that, if encountered in the fictional world, would have been scorned as incredible melodrama. Plots of various kinds were hatched only to be abandoned because of changing circumstances. One of these plots involved the landing of a large airborne force in the vicinity of Rome. At the last moment either the fright of the Italian Government or the movement of German reserves as alleged by the Italians—I have never known which—forced the cancellation of the project. But in the meantime Brigadier General Maxwell D. Taylor, later the gallant commander of the 101st Airborne Division, had been hurried secretly to Rome, where his personal adventures and those of his companion added another adventurous chapter to the whole thrilling story.20 The risks he ran were greater than I asked any other agent or emissary to undertake during the war—he carried weighty responsibilities and discharged them with unerring judgment, and every minute was in imminent danger of discovery and death.

  The Italians wanted frantically to surrender. However, they wanted to do so only with the assurance that such a powerful Allied force would land on the mainland simultaneously with their surrender that the government itself and their cities would enjoy complete protection from the German forces. Consequently they tried to obtain every detail of our plans. These we would not reveal because the possibility of treachery could never be excluded. Moreover, to invade Italy with the strength that the Italians themselves believed necessary was a complete impossibility for the very simple reason that we did not have the troops in the area nor the ships to transport them had they been there. Italian military authorities could not conceive of the Allies undertaking this venture with less than fifteen divisions in the assault waves. We were planning to use only three with some reinforcing units, aside from the two that were to dash across the Messina strait.21

  These negotiations were still proceeding when, according to plan, Montgomery slipped two divisions across the Strait of Messina one night against no resistance and the Allied invasion of the continent of Europe was an accomplished fact.22 This was on September 3—a date ten days later than I had hoped it could be done. Preparation for amphibious attack is time-consuming, but if we could have saved a few days in this instance our Salerno problem would have been much easier to solve. Nevertheless the timing was sufficiently good to permit us to use for the later main assault some of the landing craft that Montgomery had employed to get across the strait. He immediately started an advance up the toe of the boot with enemy forces cautiously delaying him and anxiously watching for our major move.

  For a brief period following upon the expulsion of Mussolini we had ceased the intensity of our bombing raids against Italy. We publicized this as an opportunity for the new government to avoid further destruction in the country by accepting without delay our demands for unconditional surrender of their entire armed forces. This evoked an angry protest from London—again reminding us that a modern commander in the field is never more than an hour away from home capitals and public opinion. Actually the bombing delay was caused by the necessity of transferring air units and the bringing up of supplies; we were attempting to make a virtue out of a necessity. As quickly as we were again in position for using
our air force at maximum effectiveness, we resumed our air campaign.

  In the actual determination of tactical plans there arose a question on which there was sharp difference of opinion. One group held that our safest, even if less decisive, means of advancing into Italy was to follow along through the toe of the boot, after Montgomery had made the initial beachhead, and to work our way laboriously up the narrow winding roads toward the heart of the country. This scheme was safe, but it could offer no worth-while results. Indeed, once the enemy was sure that our major effort was to come from that direction, he could easily have bottled up our force on a number of mountainous positions where we would have been without opportunity to deploy and utilize our strength.

  An invasion on a wider front was clearly indicated, and after examination of every spot of the beach from Rome to the toe of the boot, the bay of Salerno was selected. The greatest disadvantage of this plan was that its logic was obvious to the enemy as well as to us. Most of our pursuit planes were still handicapped by short range and Salerno Bay lay at about the extreme limit of their effective support for the landings. Besides, between the bay and the toe of the boot there were no other particularly favorable landing beaches, so we went into the operation with no illusions of surprising the opposition.

  In the meantime negotiations for the Italian surrender had been dragging along. They were very intricate. They involved the still strong Italian fleet, the remnants of the Italian air forces, and Italian ground forces throughout the peninsula and in the Balkans. Above all they involved the feasibility of a surrender while the Germans so closely dominated the entire country. Finally it was agreed that the surrender would be effective on the evening of September 8 and that Badoglio and I should simultaneously announce the capitulation.23 I chose that date because at midnight our Salerno attack would begin. All these long, and at times exasperating, negotiations were carried on for us by my chief of staff.

  Everything was proceeding according to plan when, at noon on September 8, I received a message through clandestine channels to the effect that Badoglio had reversed his decision on the ground that we were too hasty and that the result would merely mean complete domination of Italy by the Germans and the sanguinary punishment of the individuals involved.24 The matter had proceeded too far for me to temporize further. I replied in a peremptory telegram that regardless of his action I was going to announce the surrender at six-thirty o’clock as previously agreed upon and that if I did so without simultaneous action on his part Italy would have no friend left in the war.25

  I was then in my advanced headquarters near Carthage. Badoglio’s message was first received at main headquarters in Algiers and the staff, thrown completely off balance, radioed the Combined Chiefs of Staff for instructions at the same time that they forwarded the original message to me. Determined to proceed on my own judgment, I ordered the staff to cancel the message to the Combined Chiefs of Staff or if that could not be done to explain that I had already handled the matter myself. I announced the surrender at six-thirty that evening and Badoglio, in fear and trembling, finally decided an hour and a half later that he had to follow suit.26

  This action did not by any means change our invasion plans. For some days we had known that the Italian garrison in the Salerno Bay area was being replaced by the best of the German troops and our Intelligence sections predicted a hard battle in the beachhead culminating in strong counterattacks somewhere between the fourth and the sixth day following the initial landing.

  With the equivalent of four divisions in the assault, in addition to two which were already ashore but situated far to the southeastward, still in the toe of the boot, we were invading a country in which there were estimated to be eighteen German divisions.27 Although follow-up troops would double the initial assault strength, in some respects the operation looked foolhardy; but it was undertaken because of our faith in the ability of the air forces, by concentrating their striking power, to give air cover and emergency assistance to the beachhead during the build-up period, and in the power of the Navy to render close and continuous gunfire support to the landing troops until they were capable of taking care of themselves.

  The landing and succeeding operations developed almost identically to G-2 predictions. There was a sharp but relatively short fight in getting ashore and with minor exceptions the details of the actual landing proceeded well. The enemy, as was his custom, immediately began to counterattack and by the thirteenth had gathered up sufficient strength to make a major effort to throw us into the sea. During this period German propaganda was ridiculing the operation as a great mistake and pouring out over the radios of the world predictions of a complete defeat for the Allied invasion.

  On the thirteenth the German attack struck in all its fury, and fierce fighting ensued for a considerable period.28 The greatest pressure of the German attack came in the center and pushed forward to within two or three miles of the beach. The outlook became somewhat gloomy, particularly when the American 36th Division was struck from an unexpected direction and suffered heavy losses before it could extricate and recover itself. At one time it looked so probable that the invasion forces might be divided that General Clark made tentative plans for re-embarking his headquarters in order to control both sectors and to continue the battle in whichever one offered the greatest chance for success. This tentative plan, repeated to headquarters in garbled form, caused consternation because it seemed to indicate that commanders on the spot were discouraged and preparing to withdraw the whole force. This was actually not the case. General Clark and General Richard L. McCreery, commanding the British 10 Corps, never once faltered in their determination.

  When General Clark led the Fifth Army into Salerno he had not previously participated in any of the fighting of World War II. He proved to be a fine battle leader and fully justified the personal confidence that had impelled me to assign him to such an important position. Later in the war, when General Alexander became the supreme commander in the Mediterranean, Clark was advanced to army group commander in Italy, an appointment which obviously meant that both British and American authorities were well satisfied with his performance.

  Continued reports and reconnaissance on the thirteenth furnished the details of the German attack, and that day Air Chief Marshal Tedder was ordered to concentrate the full strength of his air force, to include every plane that could fly, in an attack upon sensitive spots in the German formations.29 This great air attack was delivered with precision and effectiveness on the morning of the fourteenth. So badly did it disrupt the enemy’s communications, supplies, and mobility that, with the aid of naval gunfire, the ground troops regained the initiative and thereafter German counterattacks were never in sufficient strength to threaten our general position.

  But the hard fighting was not yet over. The two great initial objectives of the Italian invasion were the capture, first, of Naples as a satisfactory port from which to supply our troops, and, second, of the airfields at Foggia from which to supplement the air bombardment of central Europe, which up to that moment had been conducted almost exclusively from the British bases.

  On the sixteenth I went to Salerno to examine into circumstances that seemed to indicate some lack of skill on the part of one or more of the American commanders. After careful investigation I felt it necessary to approve General Clark’s recommendation for the relief of his American corps commander.

  The relief of a combat leader is something that is not to be lightly done in war. Its first effect is to indicate to troops dissatisfaction with their performance; otherwise the commander would be commended, not relieved. This probable effect must always be weighed against the hoped-for advantage of assigning to the post another, and possibly untried, commander. On the other hand, really inept leadership must be quickly detected and instantly removed. Lives of thousands are involved—the question is not one of academic justice for the leader, it is that of concern for the many and the objective of victory.

  Because of the distance of
Salerno from our air bases in Sicily we were particularly anxious to capture the Foggia airfields speedily, and a number of plans had been previously studied in order to facilitate this operation.

  With the completion of the Sicilian campaign we had begun the transfer of seven divisions, four American and three British, from the Mediterranean theater to Britain, in preparation for the great assault across the English Channel.30 With these divisions unavailable for action in Italy, the only unit left that could be used for an expedition into the heel and lower leg of the Italian peninsula in the direction of Foggia was a British airborne division. Its indicated port of entry was Taranto, an Italian base that we hoped to obtain under the terms of the Italian surrender and one where German strength was almost nonexistent. If we could immediately place even small formations ashore we should be able to get the important airfields promptly and cheaply.

  The prize to be won was great, but except for naval fighting ships our sea transport was assigned to the Salerno operation. Moreover, because of its lack of land transport and heavy equipment, the airborne division was not a particularly suitable formation to use on an invasion where a long land advance was necessary. Again we decided to gamble, and in this case a tremendous burden of responsibility was assumed by Admiral Cunningham. He unhesitatingly agreed to push his battle fleet directly into Taranto Harbor, discounting the possibility of treachery or destruction by mine fields, in order to carry the British 1st Airborne Division into the docks at that port. The operation was carried out as planned on September 9, but with the loss of one fine British cruiser and more than two hundred men she was carrying.31 She was sunk by a mine in the harbor of Taranto.

  A dramatic incident during the operation is told in the official report:

  On the afternoon of 9th September the battleship Howe with four cruisers in company, carrying elements of the 1st British Airborne Division, steamed up the swept channel towards Taranto. Shortly before, the Taranto Division of the Italian Battle Fleet had emerged from the harbor. As the two fleets passed each other, there was a moment of tension. There was no guarantee that the Italian Fleet would observe the terms of surrender and would not, at long last, show fight. But the final challenge by Admiral Cunningham, delivered with the same cold nerve that had characterised all the actions of that great sailor, went unanswered. The Italian Fleet passed out of sight on its way to surrender.32