The landings were a complete surprise to the French, and the fighting, as evinced by the casualties, was severe. The French Navy, both at sea and on land, fought viciously and heroically to the end.
On November 11, as ground troops were alerted and the planes were over the target, the French signaled “Enough,” thus missing by minutes She probable destruction of Casablanca, which was only stopped by a miracle of communication.
The peace was signed at Fedhala that afternoon, and General Patton toasted the heroic dead of both nations with the wish that they fight side by side to the destruction of the Nazis.
Rehabilitation of the harbor, roads, and railroads was started at once, and within two weeks American units were training the French in modern weapons of war.
Early in March, 1943, General Patton was ordered to Tunisia to command the II Corps, which had suffered a serious setback at Kasserine Pass. This corps was a part of the Eighteenth Army Group, under General Sir Harold Alexander. The purpose of the operation was to assist the advance of the British Eighth Army, under General Montgomery, by threatening General Rommel's rear in the vicinity of Gafsa. Late in April, Major General Omar N. Bradley took over the II Corps and General Patton returned to his interrupted work of planning the invasion of Sicily.
P.D.H.
General Patton landed at Fedhala.
North Africa
October 29,1942
I am sending this back by Captain Gordon Hutchins of this ship, the Augusta. By the time it reaches home, everything that has happened will be in the papers. We left Norfolk at 8:10 a.m. of the twenty-fourth and the sortie was remarkable for its orderly, and apparently faultless, efficiency. We moved in column through the mine fields and out the swept and buoyed channel, where we joined a line of five columns with the Augusta leading.
November 2
This mess is the best I have ever seen. I fear I shall get fat. I take lots of exercise each morning, including chinning myself and running in place four hundred and eighty steps (one quarter mile) in my cabin. In the morning, at battle stations, we put on rubber belts and tin hats, but as my battle station is my cabin, I don’t have to hurry. Then I go up on the flag bridge till it gets light and then have breakfast. Just finished reading the Koran—a good book and interesting.
Have been giving everyone a simplified directive of war. Use steamroller strategy; that is, make up your mind on course and direction of action, and stick to it. But in tactics, do not steamroller. Attack weakness. Hold them by the nose and kick them in the pants.
November 6
In forty hours I shall be in battle, with little information, and on the spur of the moment will have to make most momentous decisions, but I believe that one’s spirit enlarges with responsibility and that, with God’s help, I shall make them and make them right. It seems that my whole life has been pointed to this moment. When this job is done, I presume I will be pointed to the next step in the ladder of destiny. If I do my full duty, the rest will take care of itself.
November 8
Last night I went to bed, dressed, and slept from 10:30. This was hard to do. I went on deck at 2 and saw the Fedhala and Casablanca lights burning, also shore lights. Sea dead calm—no swell. God is with us.1
We have had a great day so far and have been in a naval battle since eight. At 7:15, six enemy destroyers came out of Casablanca; two were on fire. All ships in range opened on them and they went back. The Massachusetts had been shelling the Jean Bart for about thirty minutes. I was going ashore at eight and my boat was on the davits with all our things, including my white pistols. I sent an orderly to get them, and at that moment a light cruiser and two big destroyers came out of Casablanca, tearing up the coast close to shore, to try and get our transports. The Augusta speeded up to twenty knots and opened fire. The first blast from the turret blew our landing boat to hell, and we lost everything except my pistols. At about 8:20, enemy bombers attacked the transports and the Augusta went to protect them. Then we went back into the fight with the French ships, and fired hard for about three hours. I was on the main deck when a shell hit so close it splashed water all over me, and later, on the bridge, one hit even closer, but I was too high to get wet. It was hazy and the enemy used smoke well. I could just see them and make out our splashes with our ships all firing like hell and going in big zigzags and curves to keep the enemy from our subs.
Admiral Hall, Chief of Staff to Admiral Hewitt, my Chief of Staff, Colonel Gay, Colonels Johnson and Ely, on the Staff of the Amphibious Landing Force, Atlantic Fleet, my Aides, Jenson and Stiller, and Sergeant Meeks and I went ashore at 12:42, and as our boat left the ship, the sailors leaned over the rail and cheered. We hit the beach at 13:20, getting very wet in the surf. There was still quite a fight going on, but I had no bullets.
Harmon took Safi before dawn, though we did not get the news until noon.
Anderson had both rivers and the high ground by noon and captured eight of the German Armistice Commission. They only heard of the landing at six, so it was a complete surprise.
While we were still in Washington, Colonel W. H. Wilbur volunteered to go to Casablanca to demand the surrender. He landed in the first wave and drove to Casablanca in the dark with a white flag. He was shot at several times en route, but at Casablanca the French honored his flag, although they declined to surrender.
‘When Operation “Torch” was being planned, it was ascertained from local knowledge that there are only twelve days of the entire year when a landing is even possible.
November 11
I decided to attack Casablanca this day with the 3rd Division and one tank battalion. It took some nerve, as both Truscott and Harmon seemed in a bad way, but I felt we should maintain the initiative. Then Admiral Hall came ashore to arrange for naval gunfire and air support and brought fine news. Truscott has taken the airfield at Port Lyautey and there are forty-two P-40’s on it. Harmon is marching on Casablanca.
Anderson wanted to attack at dawn, but I made it 7:30, as I wanted no mistakes in the dark. At 4:30 this morning, a French officer came to say that the forces at Rabat had ceased firing, and all the Staff wanted to call off the attack. However, I said it must go on. I remembered 1918, when we stopped too soon. I sent the French officer to Casablanca to tell Admiral Michelier, in command at Casablanca, that if he did not want to be destroyed, he had better quit at once, as I was going to attack—I did not say when. I then sent word to Admiral Hewitt that if at the last minute the French quit, I would radio “cease firing.” That was at 5:30. At 6:40 the enemy quit. It was a near thing, for the bombers were over their targets and the battleships were in position to fire. I ordered Anderson to move into the town, and if anyone stopped him, to attack. No one stopped him, but the hours from 7:30 to 11 were the longest in my life so far.
At 2 o’clock, Admiral Michelier and General Nogu&s came to treat for terms. I opened the conference by congratulating the French on their gallantry and closed it with champagne and toasts. I also gave them a guard of honor—no use kicking a man when he’s down.
Nogues and I are calling on the Sultan in a day or two.
Visit of the Commanding General and Staff to General Nogues and the Sultan of Morocco
Headquarters Western Task Force
November 16,1942
We left Casablanca, a city which combines Hollywood and the Bible, at 9:45, and proceeded towards Rabat. The country after passing Fedhala is the finest tank country I have ever seen, being rolling and open with here and there stone farms which would make infantry strongpoints, but would be useless against the 105 mm. gun.
105 mm. Howitzer
The country in general is reminiscent of the Kona coast of Hawaii. The trees are identical, and the sea is the same startling blue. We passed large flocks of sheep and herds of cattle, all of them of nondescript breeds. All the road and railway bridges were guarded by a type of Moroccan irregular called “Goons”1—at least that is how it sounds. They are dressed in a black-and-white striped bathrobe
, with a turban which was, some years ago, probably white, and are equipped with very ancient rifles and bayonets.
After passing Fedhala, the power of the Navy-Air arm was frequently evinced by destroyed trucks and armored cars which littered the road. On reaching Rabat, General Harmon2 had provided an escort for me consisting of scout cars and tanks. However, I felt that to arrive at General Nogues’3 Residency with such a force would appear boastful on my part, so I dismissed them.
Upon reaching the Residency, we were met by a battalion of Moroccan cavalry, only the officers mounted. Also, the bodyguard of the Governor General, who are Moroccans, dressed in white uniform with red leather equipment. The pistol and cartridge pouch was fastened in the middle of the stomach with cross-belts.
Both guards were very impressive, and each had its own field music, consisting of French trumpets, drums, and a brass umbrella with bells around the edge which continually rotated during the playing of the ruffles and flourishes.
We inspected both guards and complimented the French officers, commending them on their appearance, which was truly soldierly in the 1914 meaning of the word. It was rather pathetic to think that one of the light tanks in the escort which I had turned down could have easily destroyed all of the splendid creatures standing at salute.
The Residency is a beautiful marble structure, built on the lines of the Alhambra, by Marshal Lyautey,1 and I could well see why General Nogues did not want to leave it. He received us very cordially, and we talked for about twenty minutes, when it was time to proceed to the palace of the Sultan.
The palace grounds, which comprise several hundred acres, are surrounded by a wall some twenty feet high, alleged to have been built in 1300. This I seriously doubt, although it is certainly very old.
After passing through the wall, we went for about half a mile through the native huts, which apparently housed the retainers and their very numerous progeny. The palace itself is a tremendous three-story white building of Moorish architecture, which you enter through a gate just wide enough to permit the passing of an auto.
Inside, the palace guards, composed of black troops dressed in red coats, red bloomers, and white gaiters, and armed with rifles, were drawn up completely around the square. I should think at least four hundred men were present.
We dismounted, and another field music, equipped with drums, cymbals, horns, and the metal umbrella, played with great abandon.
On the left side of the gate as you entered was the green flag of the Faithful. It is made of velvet, has a gold border, and certain Arabic words in the center. Having passed through this second gate, we came into the Old Testament, a large court which was completely encircled by men dressed in white Biblical costumes. Here the Grand Vizier, or so I took him to be, met us. He was dressed in a white robe with a hood and wore underneath it a silk headdress embroidered in gold. He had the most enormous set of gold inlaid teeth I ever saw, and a scraggly beard. He told us that the Sultan had graciously consented to receive us, which, in view of the preparations, was already evident.
We mounted three flights of stairs, and on reaching the top, our guide removed his shoes. We then entered a long room with the twelve apostles and some reserves along the left side, and on the right side were a large number of gold chairs, Louis XTV model.
1Marshal Lyautey, 1854-1934.
The floor was covered with the thickest and most beautiful rugs I have ever seen. At the end of the room on a raised platform sat the Sultan, who is a very handsome young man, extremely fragile, and with a highly sensitive face.
When you first enter, you halt and bow from the hips. You advance halfway up the room and repeat the operation. You then advance to the edge of the platform and bow a third time. The Sultan got up and shook hands with me and with General Nogues, and we all sat down.
The Sultan, talking in Arabic, although he has a perfect command of French, told the Grand Vizier to tell me in French how glad he was to see me. I then talked to him through two interpreters, expressing my contentment that his people and the French and ourselves were again reunited, and assured him that our one desire was to unite with his people and the French in making common head against the enemy. It was very amusing to see that he could understand the French conversation perfectly, but had to wait to have it translated into Arabic because his dignity did not permit him to admit that he knew a foreign language.
When the initial conversation had terminated, he informed me that, since we were in Mohammedan country, he hoped the American soldier would show proper respect for Mohammedan institutions. I told him that such an order had been issued in forceful language prior to our departure from the United States and would be enforced. I further stated that since in all armies, including the American Army, there might be some foolish persons, I hoped that he would report to me any incidents of sacrilege which some individual soldier might commit. He replied that no such incidents would happen, but that if they did, he would bring them to my attention through General Nogues.
I finished by complimenting him on the beauty of his country, the discipline of his citizens, and the splendid-looking cities. We then rose, he got off his throne and shook hands and invited me to come on Wednesday to a tea, celebrating his ascension to the throne. It had been originally intended for me to visit him on that day, but I had informed General Nogues that, since I represented the President of the United States and the Commanding General of the Allied Forces, it would be inappropriate for me to come to an audience. His inviting me to the audience indicated clearly that he appreciated my position.
When this conversation was finished, we met the twelve wise men and their reserves, about sixteen in all. They were the Pashas of the various provinces and cities of Morocco. Apparently a Pasha is a lifetime job, the senior member being ninety-two years old; the junior, I should think, was about seventy. They were all dressed in white and in their stocking feet, and were a most distinguished-looking group of men, evidently habituated to command.
We then left the palace and were again saluted by the Red Guards. We proceeded to General Nogues’ Residency, where we were entertained by Madame Nogues and her niece, and treated to a most sumptuous lunch in the best taste. General Nogues impressed on me that at no time during the German occupancy had any German occupied his house or sat at his table.
After a short conversation at the end of the meal, we left, reaching Casablanca at three o’clock.
The Sultan’s Anniversary
Headquarters Western Task Force
November 22,1942
The second visit to the Sultan was similar to the first, except that we had an escort of a squadron of cavalry from the Residency to the palace. The men were mounted on white stallions, with white capes and blue hoods thrown back, white turbans, red coats with brass buttons and brass frogs. Three officers rode with us, one on each side and one behind the car. The mounted trumpeters played during the whole course of the ride.
On reaching the palace, a whole regiment of cavalry was drawn up. One squadron was equipped with lances. This regiment and the escort had the finest mounts I ever saw. Inside the outer courtyard, we had the Black Guard, which consists of huge Senegalese, with red coats and red fezes, red leather equipment, and white spats. We also had a band similarly accoutered, which played the Moroccan national air and the Marseillaise.
We were met by the Grand Vizier, or Mufti, who took us into the inner court, where two very old gentlemen with staves, as in Biblical plays, preceded us. Each of these men had some sort of cartridge box tied around his stem and was also armed with a very long curved scimitar in a red leather scabbard.
The throne-room and the vestibule outside were crowded with chiefs: the farther away from the throne, the lesser the chief. The high chiefs, who were arranged on the left as one approaches the throne, were very fine-looking men, and all of them quite old and quite large.
The Sultan was accompanied by the Prince Imperial, one of his sons, about fourteen years old. The Prince Imperial sat in the fi
rst chair, Nogufes in the second, and I in the third. On the previous visit, I had sat in the first and Nogues in the second, but this arrangement was quite proper. General Nogufes then read a long prepared oration in French, which was translated into Arabic by the Grand Vizier, who already had a copy of it in his possession. He then very solemnly presented the Sultan with his—the Sultan’s reply—neatly written in Arabic longhand, which the Sultan read and which the Grand Vizier translated into French from a paper he already held in his hand.
While this was going on, I became more and more impressed with the fact that the United States was playing too small a role, so when Nogu£s stopped speaking and stepped from the front of the throne, I stepped out without asking anyone’s permission and spoke, as nearly as I can remember, as follows:
Your Majesty, as a representative of the great President of the United States, and as the commander of a huge military force in Morocco, I wish to present the compliments of the United States on this occasion, the fifteenth anniversary of your ascension to the throne of your ancestors, and I wish to assure you that so long as Your Majesty’s country, in co-operation with the French Government of Morocco, co-operates with us and facilitates our efforts, we are sure, with the help of God, to achieve certain victory against our common enemy, the Nazis.
War as I Knew It Page 2
