The Supreme Commander

  Eisenhower, SHAEF, the generals, and the admirals could plan, prepare the ground, provide covering support, ensure adequate supplies, and in countless other ways try to ensure victory. But in the end success rested with the footslogger carrying a rifle over the beaches of Normandy. If he were willing to drive forward in the face of German fire, OVERLORD would succeed. If he cowered behind the beached landing craft, it would fail. The operation all came down to that.

  Because Eisenhower was aware of this simple fact, and not incidentally because it gave him an opportunity to escape the office and its problems, he spent much of his time before D-Day visiting troops in the field. He wanted to let as many men as possible see him, and he usually managed to talk to a number of individuals. On May 13, for example, he visited the British troops who would be making the initial assault. He attended eight parades, spoke to enlisted men before each one, and then addressed the formations. The British officers all had their men drawn up in formal parade ground fashion. Borrowing a technique from Montgomery, Eisenhower began his talk by telling them to break ranks and gather around informally in front of him.18

  How effective his visits were with the troops cannot be judged. Eisenhower thought it important that the men get at least one look at the general who was sending them into battle, and perhaps it was important. Certainly the fortunate soldiers who got to talk to him personally got a kick out of the visit, for Eisenhower was informal, friendly, and sincerely interested in what they had to say.19

  Success in OVERLORD depended in large measure on surprise. Eisenhower’s greatest advantage over Von Rundstedt, aside from air superiority, was that he knew where and when the battle would be fought, while Von Rundstedt did not. If SHAEF could keep the Germans guessing, the Allies could tie down large numbers of enemy troops at relatively small expenditure. The Germans had to defend the entire coastline of France, and even after OVERLORD had been mounted they would not know whether it was the main assault or merely a diversion. If, on the other hand, they knew where and when Eisenhower was coming, they would unquestionably be able to concentrate enough strength to throw his forces back into the sea.

  Surprise depended primarily on two points: the development of a cover plan that would make the Germans think the main attack was coming elsewhere, and guarding the secret of OVERLORD. Morgan and COSSAC had developed the cover plan, code name FORTITUDE, and Eisenhower stayed with it. FORTITUDE was designed to make the Germans think that the invasion would begin with an attack on southern Norway, launched from Scottish ports in mid-July, with the main assault coming later against Pas de Calais. The attack on Norway would be the responsibility of a non-existent British “Fourth Army,” while Patton was supposed to lead an American army of twelve divisions against Pas de Calais. The notion of Patton’s personal involvement was crucial in the deception, for the Germans had a high regard for his abilities and assumed that he would lead the main effort. His imaginary army had dummy troops, make-believe exercises, and contrived radio traffic conducted with deliberate indiscretion. FORTITUDE worked; a month after OVERLORD began the Germans still had an entire army waiting for Patton in the Pas de Calais area.20

  FORTITUDE’S success resulted in part from the tight security that surrounded OVERLORD. One aspect of this security was the ban on diplomatic correspondence imposed by the War Cabinet at Eisenhower’s request. Eisenhower wanted to continue the ban after D-Day, for he feared that if it were lifted the Germans would realize that OVERLORD was the real thing and FORTITUDE would be compromised. Eden objected. The Foreign Secretary pointed out that all the Allied governments expected the ban to be lifted as soon as the invasion was announced, and that if it were not their anger at the British for imposing it in the first place would be all the greater. He asked Eisenhower to agree to lifting the ban on D plus one or two. Eisenhower replied that he realized that the British government had to carry the “entire burden” of responsibility for the ban, and the question of continuing it would be “influenced by factors of which I know very little.” But, he added, if the ban were lifted the Germans would “deduce the fact that from that moment he is safe in concentrating his forces to repel the assault we have made.” He therefore asked that it be continued well beyond D-Day.21

  Churchill responded by saying that the War Cabinet could not agree to an indefinite diplomatic ban after D-Day because of the great inconveniences and frictions which the ban caused. He proposed that it be continued only to D plus 7.22 Eisenhower said that would not be good enough, and in the end he had his way. The ban continued until June 19.23

  In the interests of security, Eisenhower even became a speech writer, drafting a part of an address the Prime Minister made to the British people. The final rehearsal for OVERLORD took place on May 3–5; Eisenhower was worried about it, for if the Germans interpreted it correctly they would realize that FORTITUDE was a mere cover plan. Two months earlier, therefore, he asked Churchill to include in his next radio address a statement that ran, “It will be necessary to hold a series of exercises during the next few months which, being unprecedented in scale, will call for many restrictions on the public,” and to ask the people to bear the restrictions with patience and refrain from speculation about them. Churchill redrafted the paragraph and used it in his next speech.24

  The tremendous activity going on in the British Isles, the heavy concentration of troops, the schedules of aircraft—all were potential sources of security leaks regarding OVERLORD. This was especially true on the coastal areas, where the training exercises could provide much information to a German spy. COSSAC realized the danger and Morgan had tried to persuade the government to bar the entry of civilians into coastal areas. The government objected. Intimating that the reason for the government’s objection was that the politicians were fearful of offending the civilian population, Morgan warned, “If we fail, there won’t be any more politics.” Still, the government had its way, and no action was taken to bar civilians. Then in March Montgomery urged Eisenhower to keep civilians out of his training areas. The Supreme Commander then insisted that the War Cabinet had to impose the ban. He warned that it “would go hard with our consciences if we were to feel, in later years, that by neglecting any security precaution we had compromised the success of these vital operations or needlessly squandered men’s fives.” Four days later the War Cabinet imposed the ban.25

  With the British government co-operating so admirably, Eisenhower could not do less. His orders on security to his commanders and their units were clear, direct, and stern. He told all units under his command to maintain the highest standard of individual security discipline and to mete out the severest possible disciplinary action in cases of violations of security.26

  Despite all precautions, there were more than 2,500,000 men under Eisenhower’s command and thus inevitably there were scares. In late March there was great upset when documents relating to OVERLORD, including information on strength, places, equipment, and the tentative target date, were discovered loosely wrapped in the Chicago post office. A dozen postmen in Chicago had seen some or all of the documents. The package was intended for G-4 in the War Department but had been addressed to a girl in Chicago. What made everyone scared was the fact that the sergeant who had put the wrong address on the package, Richard E. Tymm, was of German extraction. He underwent a thorough grilling; it turned out that he was not a spy, just careless. He had been daydreaming about home when he addressed the package and wrote his sister’s address on it.27

  Eisenhower had ordered very harsh punishment for anyone who violated security, and he was as good as his word. In April Major General Henry J. Miller, commander of the Ninth Air Force Service Command, went to a cocktail party at Claridge’s Hotel. He began talking freely, complaining about his difficulties in getting supplies from the States. But, he added, his problems would end after D-Day, which he declared would begin before June 15, 1944. When challenged on the date, he offered to take bets. Eisenhower learned of the indiscretion the next morning, went to see Spaatz, an
d then acted. Miller was a West Point classmate and an old friend, but Eisenhower ordered him reduced to his permanent rank of colonel and sent him back to the United States. Miller pleaded with Eisenhower just to send him home in his present rank, “there to await such action as the fates have in store for me,” and protested his innocence. Eisenhower wrote back, “I know of nothing that causes me more real distress than to be faced with the necessity of sitting as a judge in cases involving military offenses by officers of character and of good record, particularly when they are old and warm friends,” but said his decision stood. Miller retired shortly after returning to the States.28

  There was another flap in May when it was reported to Eisenhower that a United States Navy officer got drunk at a party and revealed details of impending operations, including areas, lift, strength, and dates. Eisenhower had no administrative power with regard to the Navy, but he could appeal to Admiral Stark. The Supreme Commander asked Stark to look into the situation and do what he thought best. Sometimes, Eisenhower confessed to Marshall, “I get so angry at the occurrence of such needless and additional hazards that I could cheerfully shoot the offender myself. This following so closely upon the Miller case is almost enough to give one the shakes.”29 In the end all turned out all right. Stark investigated, found that the officer had not been drunk and that most of what had been said was common newspaper knowledge, but still decided to send the officer home for talking too loosely.30

  Security for OVERLORD included keeping from the Germans information about the various new devices on which Eisenhower was depending for success, such as the artificial harbors and the swimming tanks. And these devices were but small aspects of the larger scene. World War II was, as the phrase has it, fought in large part on the drawing boards. All the nations involved were striving frantically to make technological breakthroughs. By far the most important of these was the development of the atomic bomb. In the United States the Manhattan Project, under the directorship of Major General Leslie R. Groves, was making progress, but Groves and several of the leading scientists on the project were worried about the possibility of the Germans using radioactive poisons against the cross-Channel attack. Groves talked with Marshall and warned him of the possibility, though a remote one, of having the “invading army subjected to the terrifying effects of radioactive materials.” The War Department then sent Major Arthur V. Peterson of the Manhattan Project to London to see Eisenhower and explain the danger to him. Peterson emphasized the need for secrecy so strongly, however, that there was little Eisenhower could do to meet the possible threat. He did tell Stark, Spaatz, and Lee about it, but he did not brief any of the other commanders. He also informed the doctors of the symptoms which would occur if the Germans used radioactive materials.31

  As the Peterson mission indicated, the Supreme Commander’s concerns covered all possible situations connected with OVERLORD. It would take chapters, perhaps a full volume, to describe all the problems with which Eisenhower dealt, for he was the one, in the end, to whom everybody had to turn for help. For example, when the U. S. First Army made its estimates on ammunition expenditure on the Continent, the War Department rejected them and refused to send all the ammunition First Army wanted. Bradley appealed to Eisenhower, who broached the subject with Marshall. The Supreme Commander assumed that the War Department decision had been made by a lower-ranking member of the bureaucracy and asked the Chief to ask Somervell to “resurvey this problem from the very highest level.” Marshall did, and in most cases the cuts were restored.32

  There were other supply problems. A standard joke in Great Britain during the war was that the Americans were sending over so much material and so many men that only the barrage balloons kept the island from sinking into the sea. The amount of material coming into the island did create serious problems and bottlenecks. Congestion at the southern ports, where the landing craft and ships of war were preparing for D-Day, forced imports to enter at the northern ports. The food and material of war then had to be moved to London and to the troops in the south by railroad, placing a heavy strain on England’s rail system. The northern ports, meanwhile, were working at full capacity.33 During the third week in May shipping experts suddenly discovered that there were forty American ships on the Atlantic, sailing for Britain, for which no provision for discharge had been made. There were simply not enough berths. The ships were carrying material needed in OVERLORD.

  Eisenhower turned to the Prime Minister. “I find myself facing a serious situation,” the Supreme Commander said, and he begged Churchill for help. His own suggestion was to make an appeal to the longshoremen for “a superhuman effort during the ensuing weeks.” He assured Churchill that the matter was one of grave importance and that it was imperative to get the ships unloaded.34 For the Prime Minister, there were two problems. First, more supplies for OVERLORD would add to the already severe strain on the island’s railroads, and, second, every ship that carried military material meant one less ship carrying food, and Britain was already stretched to the limit on food. Still, the Prime Minister wanted to help. Rejecting Eisenhower’s suggestion of a “superhuman effort” out of hand (the longshoremen were already working to the limit), Churchill said he would reduce imports of food temporarily in order to get the OVERLORD material unloaded, if Eisenhower would get Marshall to make the President promise to make up the food losses later in the year.

  Eisenhower explained the situation to Marshall, asked for his help, and concluded, “Everyone here has plunged into this problem with the greatest goodwill and I cannot see where anyone is to blame. We simply have developed one of those bottle necks incident to big operations and the only chance of breaking it is to cut further into the current import program.”35 Marshall asked the President to make the promise Churchill wanted, Roosevelt did, the arrangement was made and the crisis overcome.36

  By the last week in May Eisenhower felt he had met and dealt with all the problems in his power to settle. The number of unknowns was still large, but there was nothing he could do about them. The most important remaining unknown factor was the weather. For the past month, every Monday morning he had picked a hypothetical D-Day and then asked his chief weather man, Group Captain J. M. Stagg, to predict what the weather would be. This procedure had given him a good indication as to the reliability of the predictions, and they had been generally accurate. Only one mistake, however, could be disastrous. Eisenhower arranged to have daily meetings, starting June 1, with his commanders in chief to discuss the weather reports; on June 3 he would have to make the final decision as to whether or not OVERLORD would go.37

  The long-term forecasts were favorable. On May 29 Stagg drew up an optimistic forecast of the weather to be expected around Normandy during the first week of June. Each day Eisenhower discussed the weather reports with Stagg, to be sure he understood fully the value of the reports and the basis on which they were made.38 “Everyone is in good heart,” Eisenhower reported to Marshall on June 1, “and barring unsuitable meteorological conditions we will do the trick as scheduled.”39

  As D-Day loomed, the pressure increased and the tension mounted. Making last-minute adjustments was one way to relieve the strain, but it was not a thoroughly satisfactory one. For Eisenhower, the most complete momentary escape came in a game of bridge, especially when he held good cards.40 Often he just walked or brooded. Butcher reported that on Sunday, May 28, after working at the office in the morning, he ate a late lunch, then “enjoyed lolling in the garden at Telegraph Cottage, which is now gloriously alive with azure, purple, and red rhododendron flowers, not to mention roses, poppies, violets, and what not. We even have cuckoos with echoes.” Eisenhower tried sketching a big pine tree but it did not come out well and when he finished he wrote under it “baloney.”41

  He needed all the relaxation he could get, for he could not escape the last-minute problems and worries of others. On May 29 Leigh-Mallory wrote him to say that he was disturbed over intelligence information acquired during the past week that in
dicated the Germans were reinforcing the area where the 82d Airborne was going to drop. Bradley had agreed to a change in the drop zones, but the new areas east of Utah Beach were not suitable for the glider units. Leigh-Mallory told Eisenhower that it was probably that “at the most 30 per cent of the glider loads will become effective for use against the enemy.” He concluded that the operation was likely “to yield results so far short of what the Army Commander in Chief expects and requires that if the success of the seaborne assault in this area depends on the airborne, it will be seriously prejudiced.” He wanted the drop and the glider landings canceled.42 Thinking the matter over, Leigh-Mallory then decided his letter about it was not alone sufficient to its importance, and on May 30 called on Eisenhower to present his case personally. He spoke of the “futile slaughter” of two fine divisions (he had decided the 101st Airborne was also doomed), warning that losses might run as high as seventy per cent.

  As Eisenhower later put it, “It would be difficult to conceive of a more soul-racking problem.” He knew that Bradley felt the landings would never work without the aid of the 82d and the 101st. If Leigh-Mallory was right, Utah Beach at least would end in bloody failure, and the effect of that disaster might spread to the entire force. Eisenhower went to his tent, alone, and thought about the alternatives. If he canceled the airborne operation he would have to cancel the landing at Utah, which would in turn disrupt all the plans. He decided the greater risk was in cancellation, went to the telephone, and told Leigh-Mallory that the operation would go ahead as scheduled. He followed up the call with a letter, telling Leigh-Mallory that there “is nothing for it” but for the commanders to “work out to the last detail every single thing that may diminish the hazards.” The Supreme Commander also ordered him to see to it that the troops involved were not needlessly depressed. “Like all the rest of the soldiers, they must understand that they have a tough job to do but be fired with determination to get it done.”43