Crusade in Europe

by Dwight D. Eisenhower

  In December we received our first consignment of Women’s Army Corps personnel, then known as Women’s Auxiliary Army Corps. Until my experience in London I had been opposed to the use of women in uniform. But in Great Britain I had seen them perform so magnificently in various positions, including service in active antiaircraft batteries, that I had been converted. In Africa many officers were still doubtful of women’s usefulness in uniform—the older commanders in particular were filled with misgivings and open skepticism. What these men had failed to note was the changing requirements of war. The simple headquarters of a Grant or a Lee were gone forever. An army of filing clerks, stenographers, office managers, telephone operators, and chauffeurs had become essential, and it was scarcely less than criminal to recruit these from needed manpower when great numbers of highly qualified women were available. From the day they first reached us their reputation as an efficient, effective corps continued to grow. Toward the end of the war the most stubborn die-hards had become convinced—and demanded them in increasing numbers. At first the women were kept carefully back at GHQ and secure bases, but as their record for helpfulness grew, so did the scope of their duties in positions progressively nearer the front. Nurses had, of course, long been accepted as a necessary contingent of a fighting force. From the outset of this war our nurses lived up to traditions tracing back to Florence Nightingale; consequently it was difficult to understand the initial resistance to the employment of women in other activities. They became hospital assistants, dietitians, personal assistants, and even junior staff officers in many headquarters. George Patton, later in the war, was to insist that one of his most valuable assistants was his Wac office manager.

  By late December my own personal staff, starting from a total of two individuals eight months before, had achieved the composition that it was substantially to maintain throughout the remainder of the war. Commander Harry Butcher of the Navy and Captain Ernest Lee were personal aides. Nana Rae, Margaret Chick, and Sue Sarafian were personal and office secretaries. Kay Summersby was corresponding secretary and doubled as a driver. Sergeants Leonard Dry and Pearlie Hargreaves were chauffeurs. Sergeants Popp, Moaney, Hunt, Novak, and Williams, with Sergeant Farr as a later replacement, ran the house, field camp, and mess. Colonel James Gault of the Scots Guard shortly joined me and thereafter remained with me throughout the war as British Military Assistant.

  Sergeant Michael McKeogh was my orderly, who accompanied me always and was close by my side, day and night. One day in Africa I had to make a hurried trip to the front and I telephoned to Sergeant McKeogh to bring a bag to the airfield. Flying conditions were deplorable and, in the total absence of flying aids in the mountainous country of Tunisia, the prospect of the flight was not enjoyable. When I got to the plane I found Sergeant McKeogh also prepared to make the journey. I said, “Mickey, I intend to return tomorrow, and I doubt that I will need you before then. Flying conditions are not comfortable and there is no use in both of us being miserable. You may go on back to quarters.”

  The sergeant seemed to pale a bit but he looked me squarely in the eye and said, “Sir, my mother wrote me that my job in this war was to take care of you. And she said also, ‘If General Eisenhower doesn’t come back from this war, don’t you dare to come back.’ ”

  The impact of such loyalty and devotion, not only on the part of the sergeant but on the part of the mother who could say such a thing to her son, left me almost speechless. All I did say was, “Well, hop into the plane. We’re late.”

  Many months after the war was over I heard that a landlady had denied Sergeant McKeogh and his family permission to stay temporarily in one of her apartments on the ground that “after all, he was merely General Eisenhower’s valet. I must maintain the proper social atmosphere in my properties.” I trust that the lady is not concerned over the relative standing of herself and Sergeant McKeogh in my affections, respect, and admiration!

  One of my finest memories of the war is the service rendered me by my personal staff. Seemingly by common consent they gave my affairs and welfare, even my comfort and convenience, complete priority over any consideration of their personal desires or ambitions.

  On the official level I had an outstanding staff, many members of which served with me throughout the war. Under General Smith, the chief of staff, were such men as Generals Sir Humfrey Gale, J. F. M. Whiteley, and Kenneth Strong of the British Army, and Everett S. Hughes, Ben M. Sawbridge, Lowell W. Rooks, and Arthur S. Nevins of the American Army. They and their many associates mastered, during the African campaigns, the art of dealing with large Allied forces, operating under single command. Without men of their caliber in the important staff positions of AFHQ, the unification of the Allied forces could not have been achieved. Their names are virtually unknown to the public. But they and their counterparts in many other high headquarters were as responsible for the teamwork out of which came the victories in Tunisia, Sicily, Italy, and northwest Europe as were many others whose more spectacular accomplishments often made headlines.

  Every commander is always careful to select only the best officers he can find for key staff positions in his headquarters. Yet these men, who in the average case would do anything to obtain a field command and who could serve brilliantly in such positions, devote their talents to the drudgery of the staff with few of the rewards that go to their comrades of the line.

  Chapter 8

  TUNISIAN

  CAMPAIGN

  IN DECEMBER WE RECEIVED WORD THAT THE President of the United States and the Prime Minister of Great Britain, each accompanied by a considerable civil and military staff, would hold a meeting in Casablanca during the month of January. We were directed to make all preparations for the meeting.

  I have never learned the exact reasons that led the President and the Prime Minister to choose Casablanca as the location for the conference. Possibly the spot was selected with the idea that Premier Stalin might be induced to come that far to join in a conference; possibly the President and Prime Minister saw certain psychological advantages in meeting at a place so lately seized by Allied forces. At the time it seemed to us a risky thing to do, both because hostile bombers were occasionally visiting that area and because there were many dissident elements in the population, including numbers of fanatics who might be expected to undertake any kind of extreme action.1 Preparations for the meeting involved anxious care and a very considerable amount of work, not the least of which was spent to preserve secrecy.

  The conference convened on schedule. During the course of its deliberations a number of British and American officers of all services were called before it in the role of professional witnesses. I spent a complete day at the conference, after a journey that suddenly and unexpectedly became somewhat hazardous owing to the loss of two engines. Under orders of the pilot, Captain Jock Reedy, we flew the last fifty miles of the journey with all the passengers standing by the nearest exits, equipped in parachutes and ready to jump on an instant’s notice. With an anxious thought for an old football knee, I was delighted that I did not have to adopt this method of disembarkation.

  That was my only day at the conference. I was already far too busy elsewhere to stay for a single moment longer than my presence was required. I learned of most of the happenings and decisions when General Marshall later came to visit me at Algiers.2 However, at the one staff session I did attend the military situation in North Africa was thoroughly discussed.

  I described the conditions that had compelled us to suspend our offensive in the north and outlined our current effort to establish the II Corps in the Tebessa region. I told the conference that provided we could establish and maintain the entire corps there, and if the enemy should remain quiescent, we could later attempt an advance toward Gabès or Sfax, but we could not predict that this would happen. We regarded it as a most desirable move if it should prove possible, and were building up as rapidly as we could, but our first concern was and would remain the safety of our exposed right flank.3
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  Alexander here interrupted to say that we could drop consideration of the offensive move because the British forces would be quickly in Tripoli and, if that port was at all usable, the British Eighth Army would be at the southern border of Tunisia in the first week in March. This was great news!

  I had long talks with General Marshall, the Prime Minister, and others. In the early evening the President sent word that he would like to see me alone. This was one of several intimate and private conversations I had with Mr. Roosevelt during the war. His optimism and buoyancy, amounting almost to lightheartedness, I attributed to the atmosphere of adventure attached to the Casablanca expedition. Successful in shaking loose for a few days many of the burdens of state, he seemed to experience a tremendous uplift from the fact that he had secretly slipped away from Washington and was engaged in a historic meeting on territory that only two months before had been a battleground. While he recognized the seriousness of the war problems still facing the Allies, much of his comment dealt with the distant future, the post-hostilities tasks, including disposition of colonies and territories.

  He speculated at length on the possibility of France’s regaining her ancient position of prestige and power in Europe and on this point was very pessimistic. As a consequence, his mind was wrestling with the questions of methods for controlling certain strategic points in the French Empire which he felt that the country might no longer be able to hold.

  He was especially interested in my impressions of some of the more prominent French personalities, particularly Boisson, Giraud, De Gaulle, and Flandin; the last-named I had not met.

  We went over in detail the military and political developments of the preceding ten weeks; he was obviously and outspokenly delighted with the progress we had made. However, when I outlined some of the possibilities for reverses that the winter held for us, his manner indicated that he thought I took this too seriously. While both of us were aware that the Axis forces in Africa could not permanently withstand the pincers effect that General Sir Harold R. L. G. Alexander’s forces and our own were developing, President Roosevelt’s estimate of the final collapse was, in my opinion, too sanguine by many weeks. Under his insistence that I name a date I finally blurted out my most miraculous guess of the war. “May 15,” I said. Shortly thereafter I told Alexander of this and he, with a smile, said that in answer to the same question at the conference he had replied, “May 30.”

  I found that the President, in his consideration of current African problems, did not always distinguish clearly between the military occupation of enemy territory and the situation in which we found ourselves in North Africa.4 He constantly referred to plans and proposals affecting the local population, the French Army, and governmental officials in terms of orders, instructions, and compulsion. It was necessary to remind him that from the outset we had operated under policies requiring us to gain and use an ally—that, far from governing a conquered country, we were attempting only to force a gradual widening of the base of government, with the final objective of turning all internal affairs over to popular control. He, of course, agreed—realizing that he had personally collaborated in the original formulation of the policy long before the invasion—but he nevertheless continued, perhaps subconsciously, to discuss local problems from the viewpoint of a conqueror. It would have been so much easier for us could we have done the same! He shrewdly remarked, however, that it was entirely proper to condition the supply of the considerable amounts of military equipment the French ardently desired upon their compliance with American convictions regarding European strategy, utilization of French bases, and the progressive replacement of French officials who were objectionable to the American Government.5 Unless they generally supported us in these important matters, it was obviously futile to arm them. He was particularly anxious to retain Boisson in control of French West Africa.

  To me, the most satisfying part of the whole conversation was the assurance I gained that the President firmly adhered to our basic concept of European strategy, namely the cross-Channel invasion. He was certain that great results would flow from the spring and summer campaigns in the Mediterranean but he properly continued to look upon these as preliminaries to, and in support of, the great venture which had been agreed upon almost a year before as the true line of Allied effort for accomplishing the defeat of Germany.6

  When I later called upon the Prime Minister I was delighted to get a similar assurance. He said, “General, I have heard here that we British are planning to scuttle Roundup. This is not so. I have given my word and I shall keep it. But we now have a glorious opportunity before us; we must not fail to seize it. When the time comes you will find the British ready to do their part in the other operation.” Roundup was the code name that was later changed to Overlord.

  The President was hopeful of a quick settlement of the French political situation through a reconciliation between Giraud and De Gaulle, feeling that he could convince both that the best interests of France would be served by their joining forces. During the conversation, which turned frequently to the personal, I was struck with his phenomenal memory for detail. He recalled that my brother Milton had visited Africa and he told me the reasons why he had assigned Milton to the OWI, which was headed by Elmer Davis. He repeated entire sentences, almost paragraphs, from the radiogram I had sent home to explain the Darlan matter and told me the message had been most useful in calming fears that all of us were turning Fascist.

  It was some time after I had returned to Algiers that the “unconditional surrender” formula was announced by the President and the Prime Minister.7 Of more immediate importance to me was the decision that the British Eighth Army and the Desert Air Force, coming up through Tripoli and lower Tunisia, would be assigned to the Allied forces under my command when once they had entered the latter province. During the day I spent at Casablanca I was informed of this general plan, but not until General Marshall later came to Algiers did I learn that it had been definitely approved. General Alexander was to become the deputy commander of the Allied forces. Admiral Cunningham was to remain as my naval C. in C. and Air Chief Marshal Sir Arthur W. Tedder was assigned as the C. in C. of air forces. It was contemplated that this organization would become effective in early February.8

  This development was extraordinarily pleasing to me because it meant, first and foremost, complete unity of action in the central Mediterranean and it provided needed machinery for effective tactical and strategical co-ordination. I informed the President and the Chief of Staff that I would be delighted to serve under Alexander if it should be decided to give him the supreme authority. I made this suggestion because the ground strength of the Allied Force, after amalgamation with the desert units, would be even more predominantly British. All of us announced ourselves as satisfied and thus there began what was, for me, an exceptionally gratifying experience in the unification of thought and action in an allied command. Other decisions of the Casablanca Conference affected later phases of our operations, the chief of which, so far as we were concerned, was to prepare to attack Sicily as soon as Africa should be cleared.9

  The remainder of the month of January and early February were employed in haste to get the battle line properly organized, to improve our airfields, and to bring up reinforcements, both in men and in supplies.10 A succession of relatively small enemy attacks along our front prevented full realization of our plan to assemble our larger units into proper formations. This was particularly serious in its effect upon the U. S. 1st Armored Division, which the army commander thought necessary to use in relatively small packets along a considerable portion of his front.

  General Marshall and Admiral King came on to Algiers upon the completion of the Casablanca Conference and the three of us carefully analyzed the situation. All understood the inherent risks resulting from the temporary failure of my all-out gamble but they enthusiastically approved the attempt, Admiral King saying, “We’ve seen what happens when commanders sit down and wait for the enemy to attack.
Keep slugging!”

  I expected General Alexander and Air Chief Marshal Tedder to join us in Tunisia about February 4 or 5 and I was looking forward to their arrival, anticipating an opportunity to secure better unification of the several sectors of the battle line. Because General Anderson, commanding the British First Army, had originally been engaged entirely in the north, his communications and command post were so situated as to make most difficult his effective control of the central and southern portions of the long line.11 On the other hand, the meager quality of the signal communications from west to east across North Africa made it impossible for me to stay permanently on what was essentially a single battle front. The arrival of Alexander would automatically correct this situation.

  I was still concerned that both Anderson and Fredendall should clearly understand that my intentions in southern Tunisia were, temporarily, defensive and that our dispositions were made so as to insure our own safety and to secure the forward airfields. On January 18, I flew to Constantine, where I held a conference with Generals Anderson, Fredendall, and Juin, and a number of staff officers.12 I again instructed Anderson to hold as much of the II Corps as possible in mobile reserve, especially the U. S. 1st Armored Division.13 I reiterated, also, that defenses in the southern sector should be perfected. I told the conference that what I had learned at Casablanca concerning the speed of Alexander’s westward advance across the desert merely emphasized the need for us to protect ourselves effectively in the area of eventual junction of the two forces. Small raids and minor tactical action were to be encouraged, but no moves were to be made that could throw us off balance.