After two days in Algiers, Eisenhower grew itchy. He convinced himself that he could do no more in Algiers until he had seen the conditions at the front for himself. On November 27 he and Clark set out for the front in a semi-armored Cadillac, with a jeep and a scout car leading the way. At Anderson’s headquarters they learned that the Germans were falling back into their bridgehead covering Tunis and Bizerte, but the Allied advance was slow. One reason was German air control and the terrifying effect German planes had as they roared out of the skies on strafing missions. The fighters did not do that much actual damage, but by forcing the troops to dash off the road and seek shelter they slowed up the advance. In addition the Germans were experts in leaving booby traps and road mines behind them.
Anderson was in the middle of an attack, but his forces were so stretched out and so small that he felt it had little chance of success. He had only three brigades of infantry and one brigade of tanks, known somewhat hopefully as the British First Army. American forces were coming forward to reinforce Anderson but so far only insignificant numbers had arrived. Still, some progress was being made. The main reason was that General Walther Nehring, the German commander of the Axis forces, was defense-minded and was excessively concerned with strengthening his bridgehead. Instead of ordering his men to push westward over the high ground beyond Bizerte and Tunis, he had indicated to them that they should fall back when they encountered the enemy. German defenses would toughen when they got closer to base.7
Eisenhower spent two days at the front, talking to Anderson, junior officers, and men. When he returned to Algiers he was fairly well satisfied. Anderson had pushed forward and almost secured the line Mateur-Tébourba. On his right, the French who had fled Tunis had finally decided to throw in with the Allies and were protecting Anderson’s flank. Anderson, Eisenhower told Marshall, “is apparently imbued with the will to win, but blows hot and cold.…”
Eisenhower’s major worry was the weakness of his forces driving on Tunis and his inability to get more help to Anderson. He could run only nine trains a day eastward from Algiers and two of those had to haul coal to operate the railroad. One had to carry food to keep the civilian population from starving. That left six for military purposes, and most of those were taking troops forward. The result was that reserves of munitions and rations were almost “at the vanishing point.” The logistical situation, Eisenhower confessed to Marshall, was so bad it would “make a ritualist in warfare go just a bit hysterical.” Eisenhower had no motor transport to speak of, “in spite of impressing every kind of scrawny vehicle that can run,” and shipping by sea was impractical because of the German control of the air over the Mediterranean. The danger was that some of Anderson’s small columns might get chewed up by the Germans, who had a much more secure base and shorter line of communications, but Eisenhower had realized the risks involved when he made the decision to move into Tunisia as rapidly as possible. Whatever happened now, Anderson was well into Tunisia and although the Germans might hold onto Tunis and Bizerte, it was unlikely that they would throw the Allies out of western Tunisia.8
The Axis were going to try, however. Pushed by his superiors, Nehring decided to launch local counterattacks. They met with limited success. On December 2 Anderson radioed Eisenhower that if he did not take Tunis or Bizerte within the next few days he would have to withdraw. The primary reasons were the enemy’s air superiority and his rate of reinforcement, added to the poor administrative situation of the Allied forces (systematic command structures had been deliberately disregarded during the dash for Tunis). The next day Nehring attacked: the results, Anderson reported, were “a nasty setback for us.” German dive bombing had been especially effective and there was little the Allies could do to stop it.9
On the morning of December 3, Eisenhower met with Cunningham and members of the AFHQ staff to discuss the situation. They agreed that the time had come to pay the bill on the pell-mell race for Tunisia. British First Army did not appear to be strong enough, at present, to drive the Germans into the sea. Anderson needed more of everything, especially air. The best chance for an early success, a sea-borne assault against the east coast of Tunisia, in Nehring’s rear, had been abandoned because Eisenhower and the BCOS agreed it was too risky.
The reports of staff officers who had been at the front lines, plus Anderson’s messages, indicated that the present scale of air support was not sufficient to keep down the hostile strafing and dive bombing that were breaking up every attempted ground advance. The Allies needed advanced operating airfields, air maintenance troops well forward, stocks of spare parts, and more anti-aircraft. To get them, there had to be a breathing space. Eisenhower agreed to cut down on all air operations for the next few days and tell Anderson to “consolidate” his position.
To prevent the enemy from taking advantage of the pause, Eisenhower decided to order bombers from Eighth Air Force in England to North Africa, where they could operate against German-held ports and airfields. He also pulled some of his fighter planes back from the front, hoping thereby to cut down plane losses on the ground and to build up reserve supplies of gasoline and ammunition for a sustained effort later. Eisenhower set the target date for the renewal of the offensive at December 9. In reporting these decisions to the CCS, Eisenhower said he felt he “still retained a fair chance of getting the big prize,” and concluded, “It is noticeable that it is the Hun and not the Wop that is defending this particular spot.”10
A few days later Eisenhower had a few spare moments and decided to dictate a letter to Handy. “I think the best way to describe our operations to date,” he began, “is that they have violated every recognized principle of war, are in conflict with all operational and logistic methods laid down in textbooks, and will be condemned, in their entirety, by all Leavenworth and War College classes for the next twenty-five years.”11 The CCS had told Eisenhower that “large initial losses in a determined assault were much preferable to the wastage inherent in a war of attrition,” which was tantamount to accusing him of being too cautious in ordering a pause in the offensive. Eisenhower bristled at the implication. He had pushed as hard as possible, he felt, but a continuing offensive was impossible.
On December 9 Eisenhower again had to postpone the offensive “for a week or ten days,” as Anderson said he did not have enough strength to move forward. Eisenhower accepted the delay but it made him irritable. When Doolittle came to lunch and recounted his problems with the German air force, Eisenhower snapped, “Those are your troubles—go and cure them. Don’t you think I’ve a lot of troubles, too?” Butcher reported that Eisenhower was “like a caged tiger, snarling and clawing to get things done.”12
Continuing political problems did not help Eisenhower’s mood. Darlan was taking on all the appearance of a genuine head of government. During the first week in December he asked Marcel Peyrouton, former Minister of the Interior in the Vichy government and a man closely connected with Vichy’s anti-Semitic laws, to serve as his “accredited political representative” to the Argentine government. Darlan also asked other chiefs of French missions for their support.13 All this upset Roosevelt and the State Department and they told Marshall to tell Eisenhower to have Darlan stop it. Marshall did so and Eisenhower replied that he would see what could be done, but added, “I feel it is a mistake to demand cooperation and a friendly attitude on the one hand and on the other to act like we have here a conquering army which enforces its will by threat and views with intense suspicion every proposal of these people.”14
The next day, December 4, Eisenhower learned that Darlan intended to announce that since Pétain was a “prisoner” he, Darlan, was assuming the prerogatives of a head of state as the “repository of French Sovereignty” and setting up an Imperial Council. This went directly against Roosevelt’s policy of non-recognition of any Frenchman until after liberation and was the very thing Churchill had feared, since it froze De Gaulle out of the French picture. Eisenhower put a censorship stop on the announcement, called Darl
an in, and forced the admiral to change it so that it indicated that Darlan’s authority was only local and that he was “in no sense” head of the French state. Eisenhower emphasized that the Allies were dealing with Darlan only as a de facto head of a local administration, but did allow Darlan to set up an Imperial Council with the admiral as its head.15
In the middle of his political activities, Eisenhower took time to write an old friend. “I think sometimes that I am a cross between a one-time soldier, a pseudo-statesman, a jack-legged politician and a crooked diplomat,” Eisenhower began. “I walk a soapy tight-rope in a rain storm with a blazing furnace on one side and a pack of ravenous tigers on the other.” If he got safely across, Eisenhower said, his greatest possible reward would be a quiet little cottage “on the side of a slow-moving stream where I can sit and fish for catfish with a bobber.” Still, he confessed, the job had certain compensations, chief of which was that it was always interesting.16
Press and radio criticism of Darlan, meanwhile, continued. He had done nothing to liberalize the administration of North Africa and American and British presence had made no practical difference in day-to-day life in Algiers. Eisenhower had Murphy talk to Darlan about the situation. Darlan promised, informally, to alleviate the condition of the Jews by restoring them their property and returning to them the right to practice the professions. Darlan did ask for time, as he claimed that if “sensational steps to improve the lot of the Jews” were taken there would be a violent Moslem reaction which the French could not control. Eisenhower had made the deal with Darlan in large part because the French could “control” the Arabs, so it was consistent for him to grant the delay.
On December 7, however, Marshall cabled Eisenhower to report that there was a “real desire” in Washington and London to withdraw the anti-Semitic decrees. Marshall added that Roosevelt was aware of the Jew-Moslem problem and wanted Eisenhower’s approval before moving. Eisenhower talked to Darlan, who said he was ready to issue a public announcement that would place him on “the side of liberal government,” opposed to the Axis and all they stood for. Eisenhower drew up a statement for Darlan to make to the press, which finally went out on December 15. The next day Darlan disclaimed any postwar ambitions and said the French people should elect their own government. There was, however, no change in the anti-Semitic laws.17
With the conclusion of what most hoped would be the final phase of the Darlan deal, Marshall told Eisenhower that he had “not only my confidence but my deep sympathy” in having to fight a battle, organize one sixth of a continent, and carry on “probably the most complicated and highly supervised negotiations in history,” all at the same time. Marshall said Eisenhower’s judgment had been sound and his actions completely justified. Eisenhower, deeply touched, replied, “No other person’s complete understanding of this complicated situation and commendation for its handling to date could possibly mean so much to me as yours.”18
Marshall’s praise helped put things in perspective. The criticism of the Darlan deal, the maddening delays in getting the offensive going again, and the political problems were all irritating, but “through all this,” Eisenhower declared in a note he dictated on December 10, “I am learning many things.” The first was that waiting for other people to produce “is one of the hardest things a commander has to do.” The second was that, in a modern armed force, organizational experience and “an orderly, logical mind are absolutely essential to success.” The flashy, ambitious soldier or sailor “can’t deliver the goods in high command.” On the other hand, neither could the slow, methodical, ritualistic officer. There had to be a fine balance, which was difficult to find.
Most of all, a successful commander had to have “an inexhaustible fund of nervous energy,” since he was called upon day and night “to absorb the disappointments, the discouragements and the doubts of his subordinates.… The odd thing about it is that most of these subordinates don’t even realize that they are simply pouring their burdens upon” their superior.19
Despite his remarks, Eisenhower was finding it increasingly hard to keep up an attitude of optimism and cheerfulness. After the war his staff officers and subordinate commanders remembered him as a constantly smiling, considerate, and encouraging commander, but they forgot what December 1942 in North Africa was like. The dripping heavens and depressing poverty of Algeria and Tunisia were a fitting background to the general mood. Criticism of the Darlan deal continued. Anderson was unable to make any progress. The air forces remained snarled and accomplished nothing. The French fought among themselves and with everyone else. The Americans and British fought with each other and snapped at thè French. Jacob later recalled that everyone he talked to agreed that things would be better if the others were not there. Each of the three Allies disliked the other two.20 The only man who could hold them together was Eisenhower, and he was beginning to succumb to the atmosphere around him.
The tone in the office was bad. Morale had dropped measurably. Smith had come in a week earlier and taken up his duties as chief of staff, but his ulcer was acting up and he blistered anyone who came within range. He was supposed to handle the problems of dealing with the French but was not and they ended up on Eisenhower’s desk. Butcher complained that, despite Smith’s reputation, “he’s just a neurotic with an aching ulcer.” More disturbing was Eisenhower’s habit at lunch of ending a discussion by saying, “Anyone who wants the job of Allied Commander-in-Chief can have it.” The saying began as a joke, but it seemed that he was beginning to mean it.21
But, as Eisenhower realized, he was learning as he went along, getting better at the job each day. Perhaps the best example was his ability to deal with the French. In mid-December Giraud demanded permission to move some French colonial troops into the front lines. Eisenhower was unwilling to comply, since the units had no anti-aircraft and would be a burden on the supply lines. He realized, however, that “blunt refusal might cause repercussions in the region his light forces are covering for us,” and explained to Churchill that this was typical of the political-military problems he had to deal with. “These people are poor and have suffered much humiliation,” Eisenhower pointed out, “and are therefore excessively proud.” The matter “cannot be handled on a straight military basis.” The commander in chief had learned much since November 8, when he regarded all Frenchmen who would not immediately do his bidding as Frogs. Now he was beginning to be able to see things from their point of view and to act accordingly.22
Relations with the French were improving, but unfortunately at the front they were not. On December 22 Eisenhower started for the front, where he wanted to see conditions for himself. Traveling incessantly, stopping only to talk to troops he saw by the side of the road, he reached Anderson’s headquarters early on December 24. He and Anderson together then visited the units in the field. It had been raining all across North Africa when Eisenhower left Algiers and continued to do so. The entire countryside was a vast quagmire. To test it, Eisenhower had armored commanders send tanks or half-tracks over the ground. At no point was it possible to maneuver any type of vehicle off the roads. Coming upon a group of men trying to extricate a motorcycle from the mud thirty feet off the road, Eisenhower had his driver stop and watched for a few minutes. The soldiers pushed and pulled, sweated and swore, but only managed to get the motorcycle more deeply bogged down. When they finally gave up they needed help themselves in getting out.
Eisenhower decided to call off the attack. He told the CCS he would reorganize and try later to mount an offensive south of Tebessa, where the terrain was firmer.23
The last hope of getting Tunis before winter really set in was gone and TORCH had failed of complete success. In calling off the attack, Eisenhower was agreeing to engage the Germans in a logistical marathon and fight a battle of attrition. It was a bitter decision that he hated to make, but he was sure that to mount the offensive under the current conditions was to court disaster.
As darkness fell on Christmas Eve, Eisenhower returned to
the farmhouse that served as V Corps headquarters. He reported to the CCS, concluding with the confession that “the abandonment for the time being of our plan for a full-out effort has been the severest disappointment I have suffered to date.”24 It was a cautious but courageous decision—many commanders would have found it easier to attack, and hang the losses. Eisenhower was certainly right in deciding it was too late to put the necessary energy into the offensive.
After reporting to the CCS, he sat down at the mess table to eat his Christmas Eve dinner. A messenger rushed in from the communications tent. Darlan had just been assassinated. Mumbling to himself, Eisenhower got into his car. After thirty hours of non-stop driving through rain, snow, and sleet, he got back to Algiers.25
His first act was to write a letter expressing his sympathy to Madame Darlan. He then had the staff brief him on what had happened. The story was simple enough. Fernand Bonnier de la Chapelle was a member of a conspiracy of five young Frenchmen of anti-Nazi royalist inclination that a Free French organizer had formed in Algiers. The group had drawn lots to decide which of them would have the honor of killing the admiral, De la Chapelle won, and he walked up to Darlan and shot him dead. He expected to become a national hero, but much to his surprise Giraud had him tried and executed within forty-eight hours.26
Darlan’s death was, taking it all in all, the best possible thing that could have happened. Eisenhower was leery by now of all Frenchmen and said that while Darlan’s removal solved one problem, he feared it would create many more. It did, but the Allies were now over the big hurdle. The embarrassment of dealing with Darlan was finished. Eisenhower saw to it that Giraud replaced him at the head of the Imperial Council,27 and Giraud had none of the tar from the Vichy brush on him. It pleased Roosevelt to have Giraud finally on top and it delighted the British, for they had always been more sensitive to the moral stigma of dealing with Darlan. Besides, De Gaulle had hated Darlan but was only contemptuous of Giraud and could work with him. French unity was now possible, which in turn could mean a unified Anglo-American policy with regard to the French.
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