Crusade in Europe

by Dwight D. Eisenhower

  Because I had to discuss with him, at once, details of his next day’s plans, we had no opportunity, at the moment, to talk further about the new assignment, but I did manage to say, “Mr. President, I realize that such an appointment involved difficult decisions. I hope you will not be disappointed.”

  During the remainder of the afternoon we made arrangements to conduct the President to Malta and to Sicily. At the former place he wanted to award to Lord Gort and the island’s garrison a Presidential Citation for the gallant defense of 1941 and 1942, while at the latter he wanted to inspect an American airfield and personally confer a decoration on General Clark.11 Both these desires he accomplished but, owing to a delay at Malta because of mechanical difficulty with his plane, he could not continue on his homeward trip that day, as had been planned. The Secret Service men were irritated and fearful, but the President confided to me that he had made up his mind to stay at Carthage an extra night and if a legitimate reason for the delay had not been forthcoming he would have invented one. I remarked that I assumed the President of the United States would not be questioned in dictating the details of his own travel. He replied with considerable emphasis, “You haven’t had to argue with the Secret Service!”

  During his visit the President on several occasions discussed matters in connection with my imminent transfer to London. He said that, with the full concurrence of General Marshall, he had designated me to command Overlord because he felt that the time element permitted no further delay in naming a commander. He said also that he had originally planned to give that command to General Marshall, observing that senior officers might well rotate in sharing the burdens and honors of staff and command duty. However, after consideration he had decided that Marshall could not be spared from Washington and particularly from his post on the Combined Chiefs of Staff. The President said that it was Marshall’s commanding presence on the Combined Staff that always inspired his own great feeling of confidence in the decisions of that body. He added that though the British would gladly accept Marshall as the Overlord commander the fact was that all the President’s associates appeared pleased with the present decision.

  The President was quite concerned with two points that did not seem particularly important to me, but to which both he and Mr. Harry Hopkins attached significance. The first of these was the timing of the announcement. It was finally decided that the President would do this from Washington; in the meantime my change in assignment would be a closely guarded secret.12 The second point was my title as commander of Overlord. He toyed with the word “Supreme” in his conversation but made no decision at the moment. He merely said that he must devise some designation that would imply the importance the Allies attached to the new venture.13

  A few days after the President’s departure I received from General Marshall a scrap of paper that is still one of my most cherished mementos of World War II.

  BOMBERS’ HOLOCAUST

  In Italy, “head-on attacks against the enemy on his mountainous frontiers would be slow and extremely costly.” This page. Only by utter destruction of his strongholds could the battle toll be tolerable.

  Smoke Pall Shrouds Cassino as Bombing Begins (illustration credit 12.1)

  BEYOND THE DUNE—EUROPE

  “ ‘You will enter the continent of Europe and … undertake operations aimed at the heart of Germany and the destruction of her Armed Forces.’ ” This page

  Assault Troops Hit Normandy Beach on D-day (illustration credit 12.2)

  For me the real value of this informal memorandum is in Marshall’s postscript. Already in the fall of 1943 false and malicious gossip was circulating to the effect that Marshall and I had been conducting a private vendetta, the prize to be the command of Overlord. Many of my friends knew that I hoped to remain somewhere in the field rather than return to Washington for duty. Yet never had I, or General Marshall, stooped to the level of conniving for position in either peace or war. I had never, and I know he had not, expressed to anyone a personal preference for a particular assignment. In fact from the personal viewpoint I would have preferred, over anything else, to remain as the Mediterranean commander.

  Marshall’s thoughtfulness in sending me a memento he knew I would value was certainly not the action of a disgruntled and defeated opponent for a “job.” While I have never discussed the matter directly with him, I have always been confident that it was his decision, more than anyone else’s, that sent me to the Overlord post. Since I first met General Marshall at the beginning of the war I felt for him only intense loyalty and respect, and I had already informed the President of my conviction that no one could undertake the Overlord command with greater prospect of success than could Marshall. I believed then, and I believe now, that he would have been as pre-eminent in field work as he was in the complicated duties he encountered in Washington.

  The honor and confidence implied by my selection for this critical post were, of course, tremendous, and of this I was well aware and appreciative. Nevertheless, there is always some degree of emotional letdown when a military commander in war is removed from one task to enter upon another. By the nature of his work he has become so intimately tied up with close friends and assistants and with innumerable intricate problems that he feels almost a resentful shock at facing again the problem of building up organizations, staffs, and plans necessary for the conduct of another operation. On top of this we were in the midst of active campaigning and I and all those I took with me were going, for a period of some months, from the scene of immediate and fierce action to one of study, investigation, and planning.

  The command organization that existed in the Mediterranean at Christmastime, 1943, was the result of an evolutionary process, the beginnings of which were far back in the hectic London days of the summer and fall of 1942.

  We had entered Africa in November 1942 with preconceived notions of the areas in which British and American troops would be respectively employed. The command organization had been designed to fit the anticipated situation. The moment we found that the military requirements differed radically from those expected, we had to begin reorganization of command and staff. The lesson was plain that in the new venture we should avoid the necessity of major revision of the command structure in the midst of battle and should adopt one whose basic soundness and flexibility would meet any probable eventuality in combat.

  Our Mediterranean experiences had reaffirmed the truth that unity, co-ordination, and co-operation are the keys to successful operations. War is waged in three elements but there is no separate land, air, or naval war. Unless all assets in all elements are efficiently combined and co-ordinated against a properly selected, common objective, their maximum potential power cannot be realized. Physical targets may be separated by the breadth of a continent or an ocean, but their destruction must contribute in maximum degree to the furtherance of the combined plan of operation. That is what co-ordination means.

  Not only would I need commanders who understood this truth, but I must have those who appreciated the importance of morale and had demonstrated a capacity to develop and maintain it. Morale is the greatest single factor in successful war. Endurable comparisons with the enemy in other essential factors—leadership, discipline, technique, numbers, equipment, mobility, supply, and maintenance—are prerequisite to the existence of morale. It breeds most readily upon success; but under good leaders it will be maintained among troops even during extended periods of adversity. The methods employed by successful leaders in developing morale differ so widely as to defy any attempt to establish rules. One observation, however, always applies: in any long and bitter campaign morale will suffer unless all ranks thoroughly believe that their commanders are concerned first and always with the welfare of the troops who do the fighting. A human understanding and a natural ability to mingle with all men on a basis of equality are more important than any degree of technical skill.

  I was happy to secure Air Chief Marshal Tedder as my deputy for Overlord. In the Mediterr
anean he had won the respect and admiration of all his associates not only as a brilliant airman but as a staunch supporter of the “allied” principle as practiced in that command. Authority was also granted to take along my chief of staff, General Smith, without whose services it would have been difficult to organize a staff for the conduct of a great allied operation.14 I at first understood that originally either General Alexander or General Montgomery was available for the command of the British forces in the new venture. At that time I expressed a preference for Alexander, primarily because I had been so closely associated with him and had developed for him an admiration and friendship which have grown with the years. I regarded Alexander as Britain’s outstanding soldier in the field of strategy. He was, moreover, a friendly and agreeable type; Americans instinctively liked him.15

  The Prime Minister finally decided, however, that Alexander should not be spared from the Italian operation, which would have an important effect on the one we were to undertake the following summer, and from which he still hoped for almost decisive results. Consequently General Montgomery was assigned to command the British forces in the new operation, a choice acceptable to me.16 General Montgomery has no superior in two most important characteristics. He quickly develops among British enlisted men an intense devotion and admiration—the greatest personal asset a commander can possess. Montgomery’s other outstanding characteristic is his tactical ability in what might be called the “prepared” battle. In the study of enemy positions and situations and in the combining of his own armor, artillery, air, and infantry to secure tactical success against the enemy he is careful, meticulous, and certain.

  I was particularly pleased to secure the services of Admiral Ramsay as the naval commander in chief.17 Admiral Cunningham had left us some weeks earlier to become First Sea Lord of the Admiralty, but Admiral Ramsay was a most competent commander of courage, resourcefulness, and tremendous energy. Moreover, all of us knew him to be helpful and companionable, even though we sometimes laughed among ourselves at the care with which he guarded, in British tradition and practice, the “senior service” position of the British Navy.

  On Christmas Eve we listened to the radio, having learned that President Roosevelt was to make a significant speech. During that talk he made the first public announcement of my transfer to command of Overlord and included in the statement the designation of the title I was to assume. The title was Supreme Commander, Allied Expeditionary Forces.18 This sounded very imposing and inspired Commander Butcher, my naval aide, to say that his major problem for the next week or so would be to design proper stationery to carry my exalted title.

  The most significant of my final acts in the Mediterranean took place on Christmas Day, 1943. On that day I had just completed another tour along the front lines in Italy and I then took off for Tunisia, where I met the Prime Minister. Present with him were the new commander in chief of the Mediterranean, General Sir Henry Maitland Wilson, along with General Alexander and a number of staff officers. The matter for discussion was a proposed amphibious operation against Anzio. The operation could not be launched before January, after my departure, and my own conclusions on the matter were not decisive. Nevertheless, I was involved because of the fact that launching the attack would require a delay in the planned schedule for shipping certain landing craft to England. Consequently my concurrence in the project was sought.19

  As the situation then stood in Italy it was apparent that a steady advance up the peninsula demanded a succession of outflanking operations by sea, preferably on both flanks. Head-on attacks against the enemy on his mountainous frontiers would be slow and extremely costly. The real question to be decided was whether the over-all interests of the Allies would be best served by allocating to the Italian operation sufficient resources to maintain momentum in the advance, or whether on the contrary we should content ourselves with minor, well-prepared attacks in the mountains with limited aims but with maximum economy in men and resources. Neither troops nor landing craft were immediately available in sufficient numbers to carry out large-scale operations on both flanks, and because of comparative ease in their later support such operations were more feasible on the western than on the eastern flank of Italy.

  I agreed to the general desirability of continuing the advance but pointed out that the landing of two partially skeletonized divisions at Anzio, a hundred miles beyond the front lines as then situated, would not only be a risky affair but that the attack would not by itself compel the withdrawal of the German front. Military strategy may bear some similarity to the chessboard, but it is dangerous to carry the analogy too far. A threatened king in chess must be protected; in war he may instead choose to fight! The Nazis had not instantly withdrawn from Africa or Sicily merely because of threats to their rear. On the contrary, they had reinforced and fought the battle out to the end. In this case, of course, one of the principal objects was to induce the enemy to reinforce his Italian armies, but it was equally important that this be done in such a way that our own costs would be minimized. It was from the standpoint of costs that I urged careful consideration of the whole plan. I argued that a force of several strong divisions would have to be established in Anzio before significant results could be achieved. I pointed out also that, because of distance, rapid building up of the attacking force at Anzio would be difficult and landing craft would be needed long after the agreed-upon date for their release.

  The Prime Minister was nevertheless determined to carry out the proposed operation. He and his staff not only felt certain that the assault would be a great and prompt success but they engaged to release the landing craft as quickly as the two divisions had been established on the beach. Although I repeated my warning as to the probable outcome, I accepted their firm commitments on the date of the release of these craft, which would be so badly needed in England, and agreed to recommend to the United States Chiefs of Staff that the equipment remain in the Mediterranean for an additional two weeks.20

  In the final outcome the Anzio operation paid off handsomely but in its initial stages it developed exactly as my headquarters thought it would. In addition, the landing craft scheduled for transfer to the United Kingdom had to remain in the Mediterranean for a considerable length of time to provide rapid reinforcement for the hard-pressed troops at Anzio. Fortunately this circumstance did no harm to Overlord. But before real results were achieved the Anzio force had to be built up to more than six divisions and had to fight under adverse conditions for some four months. On the other hand, the move undoubtedly convinced Hitler that we intended to push the Italian campaign as a major operation and he reinforced his armies there with eight divisions. This was a great advantage to the Allies elsewhere.21

  Facing an early transfer to London, I found myself entangled in a mass of terminal detail in the Mediterranean theater. I could not escape a feeling of uneasiness over the Anzio project and was disturbed to learn that my plan for concentrating the entire AFHQ in Caserta was to be abandoned. To me this decision seemed to imply a lack of understanding of the situation and of the duties of the highest commander in the field; regardless of preoccupation with multitudinous problems of great import, he must never lose touch with the “feel” of his troops. He can and should delegate tactical responsibility and avoid interference in the authority of his selected subordinates, but he must maintain the closest kind of factual and spiritual contact with them or, in a vast and critical campaign, he will fail. This contact requires frequent visits to the troops themselves. An allied commander finds that these visits to troops of other nationalities inevitably assume a regrettable formality—but he can and should avoid ceremony when visiting troops of his own country.

  It was a simple affair to turn over to another responsibility for controlling operations. The great bulk of the staffs and principal subordinates would remain in the Mediterranean. They were familiar with plans and resources, as was the new commander, General Wilson of the British Army, who had been on duty in the eastern Mediterranean
. He was present at the Christmas Day conference with the Prime Minister in Tunis, where every factor of our military situation was exhaustively reviewed. Mr. Murphy and Mr. Macmillan were to remain in their political capacities to assist General Wilson. Consequently I had no fear that his lack of acquaintanceship with the principal French officials, and with plans for arming French forces by the American Government, would cause him embarrassment.

  On the administrative side, however, there was much to do. In addition to my Allied responsibilities I was, of course, the commander of American forces in the theater. Administration of such a force, with its eternal questions of supply, maintenance, replacement, promotion, demotion, and a voluminous correspondence with the War Department, is a very intricate and sometimes very personal process.

  One of the first questions to be settled was the choice of the American officer who would now become deputy to General Wilson and who would therefore take over American administrative duties in the Mediterranean.

  This brought up the problem of filling high American positions in both theaters—General Marshall and I of course wanted to place each man in the post where we felt his special qualifications could best assist in the prosecution of the war.

  At that time my own ideas as to the best possible allocation of American commanders to the two theaters were given in a telegram sent to General Marshall on December 23, 1943:

  In the early stages of Overlord I see no necessity for British and American Army Group Commanders. In fact, any such setup would be destructive of the essential coordination between Ground and Air Forces. When Army Group Commanders become necessary, I profoundly hope to designate an officer who has had combat experience in this War. My preference for American Army Group Commander, when more than one American Army is operating in Overlord, is General Bradley. One of his Army Commanders should probably be Patton; the other, a man that may be developed in Overlord operations or, alternatively, somebody like Hodges or Simpson, provided such officer could come over to United Kingdom at an early date and accompany Bradley through the early stages of the operations.