Keep From All Thoughtful Men

by James G. Lacey

  After several weeks of discussion, Spaatz concluded and informed Gerow that if the War Department’s reorganization was going to be able to meet anticipated needs and control all theaters of operations it would have to remain under one head: General Marshall. Marshall could not possibly handle the burden of all that detail, however. Therefore, Spaatz concluded, the department should be reorganized so that it could delegate detailed responsibilities to subordinate commanders. Asked for a model, Spaatz resurrected the Harrison memorandum as an example of what he envisioned.40

  Although Spaatz gave the Harrison proposal his full support, others convinced Marshall to allow the current system to persist a bit longer in the hope that it would settle comfortably into its expanding responsibilities. By the first week in November, however, Marshall had become convinced the current system was breaking down and, noting “command failures,” he called a meeting for 4 November 1941. As the meeting began, Marshall became incensed when he discovered that the bombs he had ordered sent to Singapore in September had not yet arrived. This turned out to be one of a number of management failures that the meeting discussed. Marshall finally exclaimed, “We can have no more of this! This is the poorest command post in the Army and something must be done about it, though I do not yet know what we will do.”41 Taking his boss’uncertainty as further proof that he still was not prepared for a radical reorganization, Gerow floated various proposals to the other staffs, which basically amounted to maintaining the current organization, but making a number of small refinements around the edges. As most of November went by, Gerow was unable to get other staff sections to concur with his plans. Moreover, as the pace of activities increased, he also became convinced that the current system was unworkable.42 By this time, Marshall and his immediate staff were dealing with forty different major commands and 350 smaller commands.43

  In the meantime, Army Air Force Chief Arnold weighed into the argument in a long memorandum to Marshall that detailed the problems with the current system and advocated the adoption of a structure close to that set forth in the Harrison memorandum.44 Marshall, in turn, sent Arnold’s memo to General Stanley Embick, who, although close to retirement, was often used by Marshall as a sounding board for new ideas and concepts.45 Embick concurred with Arnold, and Marshall ordered a thorough study on the matter in early December. This time, however, Marshall did not ask for a study of how to refine the current organization. He wanted to know how best to implement the proposals sent by Arnold, which in turn were a restatement of the basic Harrison memo. To undertake this task, Marshall selected General Joseph McNarney, who was then serving as his representative in London. On 7 December 1941, McNarney received orders to report immediately to Washington. Before he could assume his new duties on the Army Reorganization Committee, however, McNarney was selected to participate on the Roberts Commission, which was sent to Hawaii to determine what part of the actions of Army and Navy officers had contributed to the disaster at Pearl Harbor.46 McNarney did not report back to Marshall until late January, whereupon Marshall informed him of his new duties on the Reorganization Committee. McNarney later related that Marshall showed him all of the minutiae that had arrived on his desk for a decision since Pearl Harbor and told him that he had been trying to make the current system work for six months, but that now he wanted to implement a new system that worked.47 As was typical of Marshall, he had arrived at a decision as to what had to be done and given it to a competent officer to accomplish. Marshall then got out of McNarney’s way and awaited the results.48

  McNarney was briefed by General Marshall on 25 January 1942. By that afternoon he had selected a small team to assist him, including Harrison. The next morning the team began its work. On 31 January McNarney finished and went to brief Marshall with his final product. McNarney claimed that his new organization was designed for the current war, but he also informed Marshall that if his plan was submitted to staff divisions and other interested parties the result would be numerous nonconcurrences and interminable delay.

  The following week, Marshall called a meeting of his senior staff and received their concurrences to the plan. With that, Marshall ordered McNarney to create a team to develop the implementing instructions for the organization. Keeping in mind McNarney’s recommendation not to submit the reorganization plan to the branch chiefs (chiefs of infantry, artillery, etc.), Marshall asked that those working on the project keep their activities a secret from everyone who did not have a need to know.

  McNarney knew he had to work fast. The longer he took to prepare the reorganization’s implementing instructions, the more time the forces opposed to change would have to organize and prepare their defense of the status quo. So, at the first meeting of the implementation committee he announced, “This is not a voting committee . . . not a debating society . . . but a committee to draft the necessary directives to put a new organization into effect.”49 Taking Marshall’s request for secrecy to heart, McNarney also warned the implementation committee, “I’d like to impress upon you that this is confidential and this is not to be discussed except with the people with whom it is actually necessary to get work done. This reorganization at the moment is confidential and is not the subject for open discussion.”50

  Despite this admonition, the branch chiefs got word of what was in the air and fought a desperate rearguard action to protect their positions. Led by Chief of Artillery Major General Robert M. Danford, they used whatever influence they had to maintain the status quo and convince Marshall that the reorganization was a foolish idea. In one memorandum to Marshall, Danford stated, “I profoundly fear, and predict a creeping paralysis in efficiency when the dead hand of divided responsibility settles again upon the Infantry and Field Artillery. From the depths of my own experience and convictions I can but earnestly beg that we not sacrifice the gains that have been made in what is the very bone and sinew of the team that must win our battles—the Infantry and Field Artillery.”51

  When this failed to convince Marshall, Danford followed up several days later with another missive: “We are at war—the most desperate in our history. Experimentation is not in order. The chiefs of arms . . . are about to be eliminated by a stroke of the pen. So far as field Artillery is concerned, that elimination is contrary to war experience.”52

  Marshall took this second message from such a distinguished officer seriously and sent a copy of the memorandum to McNair for comment. McNair, also an artilleryman with a long and distinguished career, considered Danford’s memo a perfect example of advocating “branch consciousness,” as opposed to the integration of all arms into a unified and balanced fighting team. In a memo back to Marshall, McNair stated that this “galaxy of bureaus” would have no place in the kind of organization required to fight the war.

  Armed with McNair’s support, Marshall forwarded all of the documents from the debate to Secretary of War Stimson and asked the secretary to approve the reorganization as outlined by McNarney.53 Stimson considered the reorganization a good thing and sent a draft over to the White House for Roosevelt’s review. On 26 February Roosevelt informed Secretary Stimson that he was “sure” the reorganization was a “good thing to do.” Two days later Executive Order 9082 appeared, directing that the reorganization be put into effect 9 March 1942.54 Time magazine editorialized on the reorganization the following week:The Army took a big piece of brass out of its hat last week. President Roosevelt ordered the most sweeping reorganization in the War Department’s history. An organization hitherto as strangely assembled as Topsy’s hair was streamlined to bullet-shape. Out the window went bottlenecks, bureaus and bric-a-brac—and the fusty old general staff setup. All old sections were packed into three new ones: Air Force, Ground Force and Supply. On top remains Chief of Staff George C. Marshall (emphasis added).

  Under him three men will steer the Army of the future: Air Force—Lieut. General Henry H. (“Hap,” for happy) Arnold, white-thatched, genial, 55, veteran flyer, ex-juvenile fiction writer; Ground Force—slender, studious L
ieut. General Lesley J. McNair, 58; Supply—soft-spoken, hard-driving Major General (likely soon to be Lieutenant General) Brehon Somervell, 49.55

  Most dramatic, most drastic change was the centralization, under one head, of the old, hydra-headed bureaus of Army supply. General Somervell will see that the Army has what it needs when and where needed. Onetime New York City WPA administrator, where he was a whopping success, Somervell is quietly hot-tempered, moves in on what he wants with a sophistication belying his contention that he is “just a country boy from Arkansas trying to get along in the big city.”56

  At a stroke, the Army had created a massive Service of Supply (later renamed the Army Service Forces, or ASF) and placed one man at its head—General Brehon Somervell.57 On Somervell’s shoulders fell the entire responsibility for the procurement of all supplies and their disbursement throughout the United States and to every combat theater.58 Somervell, according to one biographer, was an instrument, not a maker of high policy, and not a deep thinker. But he had ideas on logistics, and he fought for those ideas with vigor and conviction. Distinguished by ambition, energy, and managerial brilliance, Somervell was a formidable figure who reveled in big tasks and was enough of an SOB to get them done. Through force of personality, shrewd accumulation of power, and sheer ability, he carved out a dominating role for himself in procurement, supply, and movement of materiel forces. Thus he became a powerful influence in America’s conduct of the war.59

  Moreover, it is important to note that during the Depression Somervell, while still a military officer, had been in charge of the Work Progress Administration (WPA; renamed Work Projects Administration in 1939) in New York City. In that position he had been in almost constant contact with presidential adviser Harry Hopkins, who was then the director of the WPA, arguably the most important of the New Deal organizations established by the Roosevelt administration. As a result, Somervell and Hopkins had become friends and had developed a deep respect for each other’s professional abilities.

  Somervell would use this direct contact with the White House many times during his battles with the civilian production experts, particularly in his dealings with Donald Nelson. Finally, it should be noted that Somervell, like almost every other general in World War II, was always solicitous to Marshall’s needs and desires and worked hard never to disappoint him. This desire to always give Marshall what he demanded was to have serious ramifications in the disconnect between the resources Marshall thought he would have in 1943 and what would actually be available.

  The 9 March reorganization played havoc with the Army procurement and production apparatus, which just weeks before had been completely reorganized and placed under the authority of Under Secretary of War Robert B. Patterson.60 In the new organization, Somervell’s ASF took over those parts of the Office of the Under Secretary of War that were engaged in procurement functions and related matters.

  The secretary’s procurement branch thus came under the ASF’s director of procurement and distribution, who also was made responsible for “the direction/supervision and coordination of the procurement and distribution of supplies and equipment, in accordance with approved programs and directives.” Embraced within this broad delegation of authority was the responsibility for planning, scheduling, and accelerating production. All this work was lodged in a procurement and distribution division, which in the initial directive for the organization of the ASF was designated as one of its “operating” components.61 This usurpation of authority was presented to Under Secretary Patterson as a fait accompli: he had no knowledge of the reorganization plans before Stimson actually forwarded them to the White House.62

  After some hesitation and some fence-mending by Stimson and Marshall, Patterson signed on to the transfer of power from his office to the ASF, and even found the grace to forward a memo to his staff stating, “This unification of command under the vigorous leadership of General Somervell will enable us to perform our huge task with greater dispatch and better coordination.”63 As part of this fence mending, Marshall agreed that Somervell would have dual reporting channels. On military matters, Somervell reported to Marshall, but on business matters he reported to Patterson.64 While this may have been the only practical solution to the tangle of bureaucratic politics, it unfortunately made it a simple matter for Somervell to “neglect” to brief Marshall about negative developments in the production process throughout most of 1942.

  The creation of the ASF created a procurement organization that, rather than work cooperatively with civilian agencies, was to pit itself in competition with the WPB. Although there were to be many players in this drama, the coming contest of wills was to be fought primarily between Nelson, ably assisted by Nathan, and General Somervell.

  The Personalities

  Under any circumstances friction between the civilian production agencies and military procurement officials could hardly be avoided. The scale of the enterprise and the myriad overlapping jurisdictions guaranteed a considerable amount of bureaucratic battling. The fact that these fights became bloody, prolonged battles of wills, however, resulted from the interactions of the key personalities involved.

  As suggested earlier, Nelson was probably a weak choice to head WPB from the start. Hopkins had maneuvered the president into selecting Nelson because Hopkins considered him controllable. Hopkins had not foreseen that the qualities that made Nelson controllable also made it impossible for him to take a firm stand on any matter, or to make decisive decisions in a timely manner, however. Personally he was warm, friendly, and likeable.65 According to one person who worked closely with him, Nelson was by nature neither a meditative nor a reflective person but had more or less unconsciously developed a philosophy. Instinctively he had a distrust of coercive laws and coercive regulations and he believed in persuasion over coercion. For Nelson what was necessary was to persuade people, to keep them advised of what you were trying to do, and to ask for their cooperation. Nelson had another trait: he thought that differences could be resolved if you allowed time to elapse—that a great many issues that seemed acute would lose their acute character and be more readily capable of solution. Those two qualities as the war progressed became more and more pronounced.66

  Leon Henderson’s deputy and intimate, David Ginsberg, said of Nelson, “He and Leon were good friends. They met often and he liked him. While we both thought Nelson was friendly and nice we did not regard him as much of a manager. He was weak and was always fearful of a contest. He was a good policy man without the ability to execute. Leon and I used to speak about Nelson often. Usually we talked about how friendly and cooperative he was, but that he did nothing to help us get the job done.”67

  That Henderson would like Nelson is a bit of a surprise, since, as Ginsberg related, “Henderson spoke abruptly, was always direct and never polite.”68 Ginsberg also states that Nathan liked Nelson a great deal. While Nathan continued to like Nelson personally, however, his professional respect waned over time.69 Initially, however, all of the economists around Nathan supported Nelson’s elevation to the top job. This was mainly because his predecessor, William Knudsen, never believed their claims that the American economy was capable of significantly greater war production without affecting the civilian economy. Nelson did believe them, or at least claimed to, but as they later discovered he was reluctant to fight for their cause.70

  Nathan came to understand that his boss was not much of a match in a toe-to-toe fight with Somervell, who in temperament was Nelson’s polar opposite, but he blamed much of the problem on Somervell, who, according to historian John Millett,drove himself as hard as he drove his subordinates, perhaps even harder. He was not afraid of responsibility, he was not loath to cut red tape, and he rode roughshod over opposition. Somervell’s energy and determination to overcome obstacles regardless of cost alienated some and occasionally disturbed others, but he did get things done. Senator Harry S. Truman once commented to his colleagues on the Senate Committee on Military Affairs: “I will say this for Gener
al Somervell, he will get the stuff, but it is going to be hell on the taxpayer. He has a WPA attitude on the expenditure of money.”

  With Somervell’s sense of urgency and drive went also a quick temper. No one knew this limitation better than did Somervell himself. Because of it there were some misgivings at the time he was being considered to head the ASF. Intellectually alert, he was inclined to be impatient with persons who were slower than himself in reaching a decision and in taking action. Continued indecisiveness aroused his anger, as did a failure to carry out instructions or a surrender to what seemed to him to be surmountable difficulties.71

  Early in the war a journalist described Somervell in these words:He is out of the tradition of the Elizabethan Englishman, all lace and velvet and courtliness outside, fury and purposefulness within. While the bureaucrats in mufti are conscientiously trying to transform themselves into fire-eaters and nail-chewers, “Bill” Somervell is working just as conscientiously to water down his own triple-distilled potion of the grapes of wrath. His problem is not to work up a temper but to control one. . . . When goaded beyond endurance, rather than trust himself to act, he will shut himself up in the office until a judicial calm descends.72

  Between these two men stood Robert Nathan. Nathan was described asa huge hulk of a man with a kettledrum voice. He is no dreamy braintruster. Rather, he is more like a wrestler than a thinker and talks more like a barker than a savant. Yet when faced with a thorny problem, his mind can slip to the solution with the ease of a rabbit slipping through briar. He dictates letters on heavy subjects with the mechanical evenness of a victrola recording. He seldom corrects a letter, seldom rewrites any part of a ten-page memorandum. Details do not sidetrack him. He uses them instead, to fill the main structure of his thinking, and the end product is to the point and frequently blunt: “The only trouble with that plant is the guy running it. Fire him.”73