The Second World War

by Winston S. Churchill

  This direct conflict of opinions, honestly held and warmly argued by either side, could only be settled, if at all, between the President and myself, and an interchange of telegrams now took place.

  “The deadlock,” I telegraphed on June 28, “between our Chiefs of Staff raises most serious issues. Our first wish is to help General Eisenhower in the most speedy and effective manner. But we do not think this necessarily involves the complete ruin of all our great affairs in the Mediterranean, and we take it hard that this should be demanded of us.… I most earnestly beg you to examine this matter in detail for yourself.… Please remember how you spoke to me at Teheran about Istria, and how I introduced it at the full Conference. This has sunk very deeply into my mind, although it is not by any means the immediate issue we have to decide.”

  Mr. Roosevelt’s reply was prompt and adverse. He was resolved to carry out what he called the “grand strategy” of Teheran, namely, exploiting “Overlord” to the full, “victorious advances in Italy, and an early assault on Southern France”. Political objects might be important, but military operations to achieve them must be subordinated to striking at the heart of Germany by a campaign in Europe. Stalin himself had favoured “Anvil” and had classified all other operations in the Mediterranean as of lesser importance, and Mr. Roosevelt declared he could not abandon it without consulting him. The President continued:

  My interest and hopes centre on defeating the Germans in front of Eisenhower and driving on into Germany, rather than on limiting this action for the purpose of staging a full major effort in Italy.* I am convinced we will have sufficient forces in Italy, with “Anvil” forces withdrawn, to chase Kesselring north of Pisa-Rimini and maintain heavy pressure against his army at the very least to the extent necessary to contain his present force. I cannot conceive of the Germans paying the price of ten additional divisions, estimated by General Wilson, in order to keep us out of Northern Italy.

  We can—and Wilson confirms this—immediately withdraw five divisions (three United States and two French) from Italy for “Anvil”. The remaining twenty-one divisions, plus numerous separate brigades, will certainly provide Alexander with adequate ground superiority.

  But it was Mr. Roosevelt’s objections to a descent on the Istrian peninsula and a thrust against Vienna through the Ljubljana Gap that revealed both the rigidity of the American military plans and his own suspicion of what he called a campaign “in the Balkans”. He claimed that Alexander and Smuts, who also favoured my view, “for several natural and very human reasons”, were inclined to disregard two vital considerations. First, the operation infringed “the grand strategy”. Secondly, it would take too long and we could probably not deploy more than six divisions. “I cannot agree,” he wrote, “to the employment of United States troops against Istria and into the Balkans, nor can I see the French agreeing to such use of French troops.… For purely political considerations over here, I should never survive even a slight setback in ‘Overlord’ if it were known that fairly large forces had been diverted to the Balkans.”

  No one involved in these discussions had ever thought of moving armies into the Balkans; but Istria and Trieste were strategic and political positions, which, as he saw very clearly, might exercise profound and widespread reactions, especially after the Russian advances. For the time being, however, I resigned myself, and on July 2 General Wilson was ordered to attack the south of France on August 15. Preparations began at once, but the reader should note that “Anvil” was renamed “Dragoon”. This was done in case the enemy had learnt the meaning of the original code-word.

  By early August however a marked change had come over the battlefield in Normandy and great developments impended, and on the 7th I visited Eisenhower at his headquarters near Portsmouth and unfolded to him my last hope of stopping an assault on the south of France. After an agreeable luncheon we had a long and serious conversation. Eisenhower had with him Bedell Smith and Admiral Ramsay. I had brought the First Sea Lord, as the movement of shipping was the key. Briefly, what I proposed was to continue loading the “Dragoon” expedition, but when the troops were in the ships to send them through the Straits of Gibraltar and enter France at Bordeaux. The matter had been long considered by the British Chiefs of Staff, and the operation was considered feasible. I showed Eisenhower a telegram I had sent to the President, whose reply I had not yet received, and did my best to convince him. The First Sea Lord strongly supported me. Admiral Ramsay argued against any change of plan. Bedell Smith, on the contrary, declared himself strongly in favour of this sudden deflection of the attack, which would have all the surprise that sea-power can bestow. Eisenhower in no way resented the views of his Chief of Staff. He always encouraged free expression of opinion in council at the summit, though of course whatever was settled would receive every loyalty in execution.

  However, I was quite unable to move him, and next day I received the President’s reply. “It is my considered opinion,” he cabled, “that ‘Dragoon’ should be launched as planned at the earliest practicable date, and I have full confidence that it will be successful and of great assistance to Eisenhower in driving the Huns from France.”

  There was no more to be done about it. It is worth noting that we had now passed the day in July when for the first time in the war the movement of the great American armies into Europe and their growth in the Far East made their numbers in action greater than our own. Influence on Allied operations is usually increased by large reinforcements. It must also be remembered that had the British views on this strategic issue been accepted the tactical preparations might well have caused some delay, which again would have reacted on the general argument.

  I now decided to go myself to Italy, where many questions could be more easily settled on the spot than by correspondence. It would be a great advantage to see the commanders and the troops from whom so much was being demanded, after so much had been taken. Alexander, though sorely weakened, was preparing his armies for a further offensive. I was anxious to meet Tito, who could easily come to Italy from the island of Vis, where we were protecting him. The Greek Prime Minister, M. Papandreou, and some of his colleagues could come from Cairo, and plans could be made to help them back to Athens when the Germans departed. I reached Naples on the afternoon of August 11 and was installed in the palatial though somewhat dilapidated Villa PJvalta, with a glorious view of Vesuvius and the bay. Here General Wilson explained to me that all arrangements had been made for a conference next morning with Tito and Subasic, the new Yugoslav Prime Minister of King Peter’s Government in London. They had already arrived in Naples, and would dine with us the next night.

  On the morning of August 12 Marshal Tito came up to the villa. He wore a magnificent gold and blue uniform which was very tight under the collar and singularly unsuited to the blazing heat. The uniform had been given him by the Russians, and, as I was afterwards informed, the gold lace came from the United States. I joined him on the terrace of the villa, accompanied by Brigadier Maclean and an interpreter. I suggested that the Marshal might first like to see General Wilson’s War Room, and we moved inside. The Marshal, who was attended by two ferocious-looking bodyguards, each carrying automatic pistols, wanted to bring them with him in case of treachery on our part. He was dissuaded from this with some difficulty, and proposed to bring them to guard him at dinner instead.

  I led the way into a large room, where maps of the battlefronts covered the walls, and we had a long conversation. I pointed on the map to the Istrian peninsula. He was all in favour of our attacking it, and promised to help. Then and in the following days we did our best to strengthen and intensify the Yugoslav war effort and to heal the breach between him and King Peter.

  On the afternoon of August 14 I flew in General Wilson’s Dakota co Corsica in order to see the Riviera landing which I had tried so hard to stop, but to which I wished all success. From the British destroyer Kimberley we watched the long rows of boats filled with American storm troops steaming in continuousl
y to the Bay of St. Tropez. As far as I could see or hear not a shot was fired either at the approaching flotillas or on the beaches. The battleships stopped firing, as there seemed to be nobody there. On the 16th I got back to Naples, and rested there for the night before going up to meet Alexander at the front. I had at least done the civil to “Anvil-Dragoon”, and I thought it was a good tiling I was near the scene to show the interest I took in it. We may here note briefly what happened.

  The Seventh Army, under General Patch, had been formed to carry out the attack. Seven French and three U.S. divisions, together with a mixed American and British airborne division, were supported by no fewer than six battleships, twenty-one cruisers, and a hundred destroyers. In the air we were overwhelmingly superior and in the midst of the Germans in Southern France over 25,000 armed men of the Resistance were ready to revolt. The assault took place early on the 15th between Cannes and Hyères. Casualties were relatively few and the Americans moved fast. On the 28th they were beyond Valence and Grenoble. The enemy made no serious attempt to stop them, except for a stiff fight at Montélimar by a Panzer division. The Allied Tactical Air Force was treating them roughly and destroying their transport. Eisenhower’s pursuit from Normandy was cutting in behind them, having reached the Seine at Fontainebleau on August 20. Five days later it was well past Troyes. The surviving elements of the German Nineteenth Army, amounting to a nominal five divisions, were in full retreat, leaving 50,000 prisoners in our hands. Lyons was taken on September 3, Besançon on the 8th, and Dijon was liberated by the Resistance Movement on the 11th. On that day “Dragoon” and “Overlord” joined hands at Sombernon. In the triangle of South-West France, trapped by these concentric thrusts, were the isolated remnants of the German First Army, over 20,000 strong, who freely gave themselves up.

  To sum up the story, the original proposal at Teheran in November 1943 was for a descent in the south of France to help take the weight off “Overlord”. The timing was to be either in the week before or the week after D Day. All this was changed by what happened in the interval. The latent threat from the Mediterranean sufficed in itself to keep ten German divisions on the Riviera. Anzio alone had meant that the equivalent of four enemy divisions was lost to other fronts. When, with the help of Anzio, our whole battle line advanced, captured Rome and threatened the Gothic Line, the Germans hurried a further eight divisions to Italy. Delay in the capture of Rome and the dispatch of landing-craft from the Mediterranean to help “Overlord” caused the postponement of “Anvil”–“Dragoon” till mid-August, or two months later than it had been proposed. It therefore did not in any way affect “Overlord”. When it was belatedly launched it drew no enemy down from the Normandy battle theatre. Therefore none of the reasons present in our minds at Teheran had any relation to what was done and “Dragoon” caused no diversion from the forces opposing General Eisenhower.* In fact, instead of helping him, he helped it by threatening the rear of the Germans retiring up the Rhone valley. This is not to deny that the operation as carried out eventually brought important assistance to General Eisenhower by the arrival of another army on his right flank and the opening of another line of communications thither. For this a heavy price was paid. The army of Italy was deprived of its opportunity to strike a most formidable blow at the Germans, and very possibly to reach Vienna before the Russians, with all that might have followed therefrom. But once the final decision was reached I of course gave “Anvil-Dragoon” my full support, though I had done my best to constrain or deflect it.

  On the morning of August 17 I set out by motor to meet General Alexander. I was delighted to see him for the first time since his victory and entry into Rome. He drove me all along the old Cassino front, showing me how the battle had gone and where the main struggles had occurred. Alexander brought his chief officers to dinner, and explained to me fully his difficulties and plans. The Fifteenth Group of Armies had indeed been skinned and starved. The far-reaching projects we had cherished must now be abandoned. It was still our duty to hold the Germans in the largest numbers on our front. If this purpose was to be achieved an offensive was imperative; but the well-integrated German armies were almost as strong as ours, composed of so many different contingents and races. It was proposed to attack along the whole front early on the 26th. Our right hand would be upon the Adriatic, and our immediate objective Rimini. To the westward, under Alexander’s command, lay the Fifth American Army. This had been stripped and mutilated for the sake of “Anvil”, but would nevertheless advance with vigour.

  On August 19 I set off to visit General Mark Clark at Leghorn. We lunched in the open air by the sea. In our friendly and confidential talks I realised how painful the tearing to pieces of this fine army had been to those who controlled it. The General seemed embittered that his army had been robbed of what he thought—and I could not disagree—was a great opportunity. Still, he would drive forward to his utmost on the British left and keep the whole front blazing. It was late and I was thoroughly tired out when I got back to the château at Siena, where Alexander came again to dine.

  When one writes things on paper to decide or explain large questions affecting action there is mental stress. But all this bites much deeper when you see and feel it on the spot. Here was this splendid army, equivalent to twenty-five divisions, of which a quarter were American, reduced till it was just not strong enough to produce decisive results against the immense power of the defensive. A very little more, half of what had been taken from us, and we could have broken into the valley of the Po, with all the gleaming possibilities and prizes which lay open towards Vienna. As it was our forces, about a million strong, could play a mere secondary part in any commanding strategic conception. They could keep the enemy on their front busy at the cost and risk of a hard offensive. They could at least do their duty. Alexander maintained his soldierly cheerfulness, but it was in a sombre mood that I went to bed. In these great matters failing to gain one’s way is no escape from the responsibility for an inferior solution.

  As Alexander’s offensive could not start till the 26th I flew to Rome on the morning of the 21st. Here another set of problems and a portentous array of new personages to meet awaited me. First I had to deal with the impending Greek crisis, which had been one of the chief reasons for my Italian visit. Rumours of the German evacuation of Greece raised intense excitement and discord in M. Papandreou’s Cabinet, and revealed the frail and false foundation upon which common action stood. This made it all the more necessary for me to see Papandreou and those he trusted. We met that evening. Neither his Government nor the Greek State itself had either arms or police. He asked for our help to unite Greek resistance against the Germans. At present only the wrong people had arms, and they were a minority. I told him we could make no promise and enter into no obligations about sending British forces into Greece, and that even the possibility should not be talked about in public; but I advised him to transfer his Government at once from Cairo, with its atmosphere of intrigue, to somewhere in Italy near the headquarters of the Supreme Allied Commander. This he agreed to do. As for the future, I told him we had no intention of interfering with the solemn right of the Greek people to choose between monarchy and a republic. But it must be for the Greek people as a whole, and not a handful of doctrinaires, to decide so grave an issue. Although I personally gave my loyalty to the constitutional monarchy which had taken shape in England, His Majesty’s Government were quite indifferent as to which way the matter was settled for Greece provided there was a fair plebiscite. We shall in due course see what happened.

  I stayed while in Rome at the Embassy, and our Ambassador, Sir Noel Charles, and his wife devoted themselves to my business and comfort. Guided by his advice, I met most of the principal figures in the débris of Italian politics produced by twenty years of dictatorship, a disastrous war, revolution, invasion, occupation, Allied control, and other evils. I had talks with, among others, Signor Bonomi and General Badoglio, also with Comrade Togliatti, who had returned to Italy at the
beginning of the year after a long sojourn in Russia. The leaders of all the Italian parties were invited to meet me. None had any electoral mandate, and their party names, revived from the past, had been chosen with an eye to the future. “What is your party?” I asked one group. “We are the Christian Communists,” their chief replied. I could not help saying, “It must be very inspiring to your party, having the Catacombs so handy.” They did not seem to see the point, and, looking back, I am afraid their minds must have turned to the cruel mass executions which the Germans had so recently perpetrated in these ancient sepulchres. One may however be pardoned for making historical references in Rome. The Eternal City, rising on every side, majestic and apparently invulnerable, with its monuments and palaces, and with its splendour of ruins not produced by bombing, seemed to contrast markedly with the tiny and transient beings who flitted within its bounds. I also met for the first time the Crown Prince Umberto, who, as Lieutenant of the Realm, was commanding the Italian forces on our front. His powerful and engaging personality, his grasp of the whole situation, military and political, were refreshing, and gave one a more lively feeling of confidence than I had experienced in my talks with the politicians. I certainly hoped he would play his part in building up a constitutional monarchy in a free, strong, united Italy. However, this was none of my business.

  Early on August 24 I returned by air to Alexander’s headquarters at Siena, living in the château a few miles away, and next afternoon we flew to General Leese’s battle headquarters of the Eighth Army, on the Adriatic side. Here we had tents overlooking a magnificent panorama to the northward. The Adriatic, though but twenty miles away, was hidden by the mass of Monte Maggiore. General Leese told us that the barrage to cover the advance of his troops would begin at midnight. We were well placed to watch the long line of distant gun-flashes. The rapid, ceaseless thudding of the cannonade reminded me of the First World War. Artillery was certainly being used on a great scale. After an hour of this I was glad to go to bed, for Alexander had planned an early start and a long day on the front. He had also promised to take me wherever I wanted to go.