CHAPTER 15
The Bulge
On December 16, at dawn, two German Panzer armies of twenty-four divisions struck an American corps of three divisions in the Ardennes. The attack was a complete surprise. Two divisions were trampled, and all along the front the Americans retreated in great confusion. Communications were so badly disrupted that as long as four hours after the attack began Twelfth Army Group still had no report of the German counter-offensive.1
Eisenhower, when he learned of the attack, was as surprised as everyone else. No one had expected a German offensive in the Ardennes, nor had any of the intelligence units realized that the Germans had such a sizable reserve available for such an attack. After the event the G-2s from divisions, corps, army, army group, and even SHAEF could point to this or that sentence or paragraph in an early December analysis and say, “You see, if that had been read correctly, you would have realized the attack was coming.” This was probably true, but it was beside the point. What the intelligence reports revealed was that the Germans had pulled a number of armored units out of the front lines, that they were building up a reserve (which was consistently underestimated), and that they had the capability to attack somewhere. None of the G-2s had predicted where the attack would come, or when, or in what strength.
Strong, SHAEF’s G-2, came closest in anticipating what eventually happened. He told Smith that the German reserve might be transferred to the eastern front, or that it might strike in the Ardennes or east of the Vosges, whenever the Germans had a prediction of six days of bad weather. Smith sent Strong to warn Bradley of this possibility, and Bradley said, “Let them come.”2 Eisenhower had also been worried about the Ardennes, where four divisions held a seventy-five-mile front, and had queried Bradley about this relatively weak position, but the Supreme Commander did not think the risk there sufficiently serious to justify moving additional units into the area.
In retrospect, critics of SHAEF have found it difficult to understand how such a momentous error could have been made but, on the day it happened, it was difficult to see how the attack could have been expected. True, the Germans had used the Ardennes as an invasion route in 1870 and again in 1940, but the terrain was not suited for mobile warfare, especially in the winter months when weather made the poor road net even more impassable than usual. And in the end, of course, the Germans paid heavily for this absence of mobility. Assembling two armies and secretly preparing them for an offensive was an arduous but not impossible task. German thoroughness never revealed itself to better advantage. The deception plans were so elaborate that some of the units earmarked for the attack were left off situation maps, even at the highest headquarters, so that only a very few high-ranking officers knew the details of the plan. The tanks were gathered together on German territory, so Allied intelligence did not have the benefit of local information that had been so helpful in France and Belgium.3 The various G-2s did notice considerable activity in the area opposite the Ardennes, but the arrival of new units on the German front there seemed to be balanced by the withdrawal of others. The Twelfth Army Group concluded that the enemy was using the Ardennes as a training ground, putting replacements into the line there in order to give them experience. First Army G-2 reported, “During the past month there has been a definite pattern for the seasoning of newly-formed divisions in the comparatively quiet sector opposite VIII Corps prior to their dispatch to more active front.” And VIII Corps, which took the full force of the initial attack, reported on December 9: “The enemy’s present practice of bringing new divisions to this sector to receive front line experience and then relieving them out for commitment elsewhere indicates his desire to have this sector of the front remain quiet and inactive.”4
Forrest Pogue, who has written a comprehensive analysis of the intelligence failure, concludes that there were four major reasons for it. First, although Eisenhower and Bradley realized the Germans were capable of striking, they did not know where an attack would come, or even if the Germans were building up a reserve to use in case of an Allied breakthrough. They were reluctant to move their troops from point to point to meet every possible threat, not only because it was impractical but because it would disrupt their own offensive plans. The second reason for the intelligence failure was SHAEF’s emphasis on an offensive strategy. The third was the erroneous belief that Von Rundstedt, a cautious soldier, was controlling strategy and would not put his troops into the open where the Allied air force could destroy them. The fourth was the belief that the German fuel shortage would preclude any counterattack.
The most important factor of all was Eisenhower’s emphasis on the offensive, coupled with the obvious fact that if the Germans used up their forces in a counterattack they would only be inviting a quicker defeat. Von Rundstedt’s best hope for holding the line once spring came was to have all his forces at full strength. To use them up in a German offensive that could achieve nothing more than a slight tactical success made no sense. In any case the mood at SHAEF and among all the senior field commanders mitigated against any expectation of a major German thrust. In the AEF, and in the Allied world generally, the spirit was offense-minded. The U.S., U.K., and U.S.S.R. had held the initiative since the spring of 1943. The last time the Germans had decided where and when to fight had been in their disastrous offensive at Kursk. Not since Kasserine had Eisenhower been forced to think and act defensively. What SHAEF, the army groups, and the armies were concerned with then was not what the Germans might do but what they would do to the Germans. Thus, the total surprise at the counteroffensive.
Eisenhower accepted all the blame for it, and in the largest sense he was right in doing so, for he had failed to read correctly the mind of the enemy commander. He failed to see that Hitler, not Von Rundstedt, was directing the strategy; he failed to see that Hitler would try anything. The Supreme Commander was the man responsible for the weakness of the line in the Ardennes, the one who had insisted on continuing the offensives north and south of the area. As a result of his policies there was no general SHAEF reserve available.
On December 23 Eisenhower dictated an office memorandum. The Allied world had been shocked by Von Rundstedt’s attack; after the drive through France and the lingering expectation of another breakthrough to be followed by a quick end to the war, the reporters and commentators could hardly believe what had happened. Obviously the Allies had been badly fooled, and the newspapers were full of criticism. In his memorandum Eisenhower confessed that although he had been aware of the building German reserve, that although he knew tank units had been pulled out of the line, and that although he had been told that “a counterattack through the Ardennes was a possibility,” he did not think it probable that the enemy would try it. “Nevertheless,” he admitted, “this is exactly what he did.”5
But despite his mistakes Eisenhower was the first important Allied general to grasp the full import of the attack, the first to be able to readjust his thinking, the first to realize that, although the surprise German counteroffensive and the initial Allied losses were painful, in fact Hitler had given the AEF a magnificent opportunity. Eisenhower was at Versailles on the day of the attack, conferring with Bradley on the replacement problem in ETO. Scattered reports began to come in, indicating that some penetrations had been made with tanks. Bradley was inclined to think it was a local attack that could be stopped without difficulty. Eisenhower believed a larger movement was involved, and he urged Bradley to send the 10th Armored Division from the south and the 7th Armored Division from the north toward the flanks of the attack. He also told Bradley to order his army commanders to alert any division they had which was free for employment in the Ardennes area.6
Bradley stayed overnight at Versailles; the following morning, December 17, he returned to his own headquarters to take control of the situation. Not much was then known at SHAEF as to the strength of the attack, but each bit of news that came in indicated that it was a big one. Eisenhower’s reaction was crucial. If he had panicked, shouting orders
on the telephone and pulling units from various sectors to throw them piecemeal into the battle, he would have spread the panic all down the line. But he was calm, optimistic, even delighted at this seemingly ominous development. In the morning he dictated a letter to General Somervell about his munitions problems. In the last paragraph he said that the enemy had “launched a rather ambitious counterattack east of the Luxembourg area where we have been holding very thinly.” He said he was bringing some armor in from the north and south to hit the German flanks, and concluded, “If things go well we should not only stop the thrust but should be able to profit from it.”7
Eisenhower’s biggest problem was the lack of a strategic reserve. He had already committed the two armored divisions that had been out of the line on a regular rest and rotation basis, with the 10th holding the southern shoulder of the penetration and the 7th occupying the important road junction of St. Vith. Beyond those two, the only additional reserve forces SHAEF had were the 101st and 82d Airborne Divisions, still refitting from the battles around Arnhem. After sending orders to the commanders of the paratroopers to prepare to move, Eisenhower conferred with Smith, Strong, and Whiteley. Together they studied the map and tried to estimate the enemy’s intentions. They did not realize it, but Hitler was thinking on a grand scale—his ultimate objective was to destroy the Allied forces north of the Ardennes and take Antwerp, thus bringing about a decisive change in the over-all situation. SHAEF found it difficult to credit the Germans with such ambitions, and thought instead that Von Rundstedt’s sole aim was to get across the Meuse River, which would have the effect of splitting Twelfth and Twenty-first Army Groups. This was, of course, a more realistic estimate of German capabilities and did in fact represent Von Rundstedt’s thinking.
Whiteley, looking at the map, declared that Bastogne was the key point. It had an excellent road net, and without it the Germans would hardly be able to drive through the Ardennes toward Namur and the Meuse River. When Smith and Strong agreed, Eisenhower decided to concentrate his reserves at Bastogne. A combat command of the 10th Armored went to the city immediately, while the 101st Airborne was ordered to get there as soon as possible. Eisenhower sent the 82d to the north to join Ridgway’s XVIII Corps, where it could participate in a counterattack against the German’s right flank. The Supreme Commander also ordered the cessation of all attacks by the AEF “and the gathering up of every possible reserve to strike the penetration in both flanks.”8
By December 18 Eisenhower had completed his plans and was ready to institute them. He told Bradley, Devers, and Patton to meet him the next day at Verdun, then outlined the action he wanted. Because Bradley still tended to think the offensive might be nothing more than an effort to pull forces away from the Allied offensives, Eisenhower began his message by saying that the enemy “is making a major thrust … and still has reserves uncommitted.… It appears that he will be prepared to employ the whole of his armored reserve to achieve success.” He said he intended to “take immediate action to check the enemy advance,” and then to “launch a counteroffensive without delay with all forces north of the Moselle.” He wanted Devers to eliminate the Colmar pocket, but that otherwise Sixth Army Group should abandon its offensive and slide to its left, relieving Patton on much of his front, including Metz, so that Patton could attack the German left flank. (This major boundary change was not made, because Patton had stuffed his supply dumps with bridging equipment to be used in spanning the Rhine and he was afraid that Devers would ransack the hoard. He insisted that the area remain within the jurisdiction of Third Army, and Eisenhower agreed.) Eisenhower told Bradley his first mission was to insure the security of the line Namur-Liége-Aachen, then to launch an attack north of the Moselle with Third Army. The Supreme Commander wanted Twenty-first Army Group to attack southeastward in the area between the Rhine and the Meuse.9
By the time the conference at Verdun got under way the next morning, December 19, there was increasing German strength on the attack in the Ardennes. Von Rundstedt had hoped to be across the Meuse by the end of the second day of the attack (December 17), but his forces were nowhere close to achieving that objective. General Middleton’s VIII Corps, although badly battered and overrun, had not been destroyed. Small units continued to fight, often without any direction from above or any idea at all about what was happening around them. Individual acts of heroism abounded. As a result the German timetable was badly off schedule. Adding to Von Rundstedt’s problems, the Sixth Panzer Army on his right wing was under the command of Obergruppenfuehrer “Sepp” Dietrich, who had been hand-picked by Hitler because of his bravery and personal loyalty. These virtues, unfortunately for Von Rundstedt, did not solve the complex problems involved in handling a Panzer army on the attack. Dietrich’s traffic jammed, forces moved in the wrong direction, and confusion reigned. As a result Sixth Panzer Army made only small gains. Seventh Army, on the southern end of the attack, was doing only slightly better. The really spectacular gains had been made by General der Panzertruppen Hasso von Manteuffel’s Fifth Panzer Army, but even it was being delayed on its left by the 101st at Bastogne and on its right by the 7th Armored at St. Vith.
Hitler had wanted to pick up the attack in the north, with Fifteenth Army attacking U. S. Ninth Army. He decided on December 18, however, to reinforce Von Manteuffel’s success and destroy the road blocks at Bastogne and St. Vith. He ordered Von Rundstedt to send all available reinforcements through the gaps created by Von Manteuffel. It was thus clear to Eisenhower, when he opened the conference at Verdun, that the Germans were going to make their supreme effort to reach the Meuse around Namur.10
The Allied high command met in a cold, damp squad room in a Verdun barracks, with only a lone potbellied stove to ease the chill. Eisenhower opened the meeting by declaring, “The present situation is to be regarded as one of opportunity for us and not of disaster. There will be only cheerful faces at this conference table.” Patton quickly picked up the theme. “Hell, let’s have the guts to let the —— — —— go all the way to Paris,” he said, grinning, “Then we’ll really cut ’em off and chew ’em up.”11
But brave words and grinning faces could not stop German Panzers. As more news on Von Manteuffel’s advance came in, it was obvious that the Allies faced a serious, potentially disastrous situation. If the 101st Airborne at Bastogne and the 7th Armored at St. Vith could not hold out, Von Manteuffel would have full use of the limited roads in the Ardennes. No Allied force of consequence stood between his Fifth Panzer Army and Namur. Acting on Eisenhower’s orders, Bradley and Montgomery were rushing what troops they could to the front, but it would take time to get them there and in any case they did not have many divisions available. Most of the AEF was deeply involved in the various offensives along the front.
Eisenhower’s first priority was to hold the line Namur–Liége–Aachen. He had studied the map with Whiteley, Strong, and Smith to determine how far back the Allies could afford to go, and each time they reviewed the situation the answer became more obvious—the Meuse had to be held. A major reason for this decision was the existence of huge supply dumps across the river at Liége, dumps that contained everything the Germans needed, most importantly gasoline. From the beginning SHAEF had correctly assumed that Von Rundstedt’s key weakness was a shortage of fuel and had rightly guessed that he counted on capturing Allied stocks. Eisenhower was determined that he would not get any gasoline from the Allies.12
Holding at the Meuse was the sine qua non of Eisenhower’s plan, but equally important was the other side of the coin—his own counterattack. He was not going to let the Germans get away with emerging from their holes without punishing them. He therefore told Patton to cancel his offensive in the Saar, change directions, take command of VIII Corps, and organize a major counterblow against the German southern flank with a target date of December 23 or 24. Patton protested, but Eisenhower insisted on that plan.
To enable the men to carry out his twin objectives of holding at the Meuse and attacking fro
m the south, Eisenhower decided to convert to a strict defensive policy everywhere except in the Ardennes. He wanted Patton to retreat from his bridgeheads over the Saar and Devers to prepare to shorten his line. His general purpose, he explained, was “to yield ground in order to insure the security of essential areas and to add strength” to Patton’s attack. He also wanted Montgomery to prepare to attack in the north.13
What Eisenhower needed most desperately to insure the success of his plans was men, especially rifle-carrying infantrymen. To obtain them, he sent personal representatives to Com Z units to pick out men who could fight and start them on their way to the front. He also made an offer to criminals who were under court-martial sentences. Any man who would pick up a rifle and go into the battle could have a pardon and a clean slate. All those who had fifteen years or more at hard labor ahead of them volunteered.14 This helped, but there was still an over-all deficiency of 23,000 riflemen in ETO. Eisenhower talked to Lee, who pointed out that one untapped resource was black troops, most of whom were in Com Z and none of whom were infantrymen. Lee thought they would respond handsomely to an invitation from Eisenhower to volunteer for infantry service, especially if they could fight on an integrated basis. Eisenhower agreed and issued a circular offering the blacks an opportunity to serve in infantry units and promising that they would be assigned “without regard to color or race.”