Another slight incident at that final meeting illustrated again how frequently things that we would probably consider inconsequential and scarcely worth noticing can become important in the eyes of individuals whose background from childhood has differed sharply from our own. The reverse, also, is probably true. The marshal told me that a book written by an American about Russia stated that Marshal Zhukov was shorter by two or three inches than his wife, and that he had two sons. This story irritated him because he saw in it personal disparagement and belittlement. He and his wife stood up for a moment and he said, “Now you see what kind of lies some of your writers publish about us.” And he added, “Also, we have no sons. We have two daughters.”
He referred to a picture of the Generalissimo published by one of our magazines. This was not a personal photograph but was a likeness of a painted portrait that hung in one of the Berlin night clubs. The magazine picture had been taken in such a way that, with seeming intent, the Generalissimo’s portrait was photographed in most unfortunate and undignified surroundings. This literally infuriated the marshal. He turned to me and said: “If a picture of you like this one should appear in a Russian magazine, I would see that the magazine ceased operations at once. It would be eliminated. What are you going to do?”
This called for me to describe the free press of America, but after an earnest and, I thought, eloquent attempt I found that I had made no impression whatsoever. The marshal merely repeated, “If you are Russia’s friend you will do something about it.”10
Similarly I tried to make him see the virtues of free enterprise. Firmly believing that without a system of free or competitive enterprise, individual political freedom cannot endure, I showed him that, so far as I was concerned, complete state ownership necessarily would involve complete dictatorship, and that the effort to escape all dictatorial rule was the reason for America’s founding and growth. He merely smiled.
Even after I returned to the United States the marshal and I continued, until April 1946, to correspond on our accustomed friendly terms. In the spring of that year he was relieved from his Berlin command and I have never since heard from him directly. It was rumored that he was out of favor—that for some reason he had fallen from the high place he held in Russian affections and popular esteem during the late months of the war.
One of the speculative reasons given for his virtual disappearance was his known friendship with me. I cannot believe that such was the case because, in spite of that friendship, he always seemed to be profoundly convinced of the essential rectitude of the Communist theory. He knew that I was an uncompromising foe of Communism because I believed that it was synonymous with dictatorship; he would listen patiently when I said that I hated everything that smacked of statism, and that our whole Western tradition was devoted to the idea of personal liberty. But his own adherence to the Communistic doctrine seemed to come from inner conviction and not from any outward compulsion.
The Russians are generous. They like to give presents and parties, as almost every American who has served with them can testify. In his generous instincts, in his love of laughter, in his devotion to a comrade, and in his healthy, direct outlook on the affairs of workaday life, the ordinary Russian seems to me to bear a marked similarity to what we call an “average American.”
The existence of a personal friendship and understanding with Marshal Zhukov did not, however, eliminate the incidents and conflicts which were always irritating and exasperating members of my staff. Occasionally these were serious. Every railway train and every automobile that we sent into Berlin had to pass through Russian territory. Several times these were molested or even robbed by roving bands of individuals wearing the uniform of the Russian Army.
Because of the difference in languages no one had available the instrument of direct and personal conversation to alleviate the intensity of the ensuing arguments. Misunderstandings arose over the implementation of the Potsdam agreement, particularly as it applied to reparations. While Clay and I had always fought for the rehabilitation of the Ruhr and the development of an economy in western Germany sufficient to support the population, we likewise insisted that every firm commitment of our government should be properly and promptly executed. We felt that for us to be guilty of bad faith in any detail of operation or execution would defeat whatever hope we had of assisting in the development of a broad basis of international co-operation.
The policy of firm adherence to the pledged word of our government was first challenged shortly after the close of hostilities. Some of my associates suddenly proposed that when so requested by the Russians I should refuse to withdraw American troops from the line of the Elbe to the area allocated to the United States for occupation. The argument was that if we kept troops on the Elbe the Russians would be more likely to agree to some of our proposals, particularly as to a reasonable division of Austria. To me, such an attitude seemed indefensible. I was certain, and was always supported in this attitude by the War Department, that to start off our first direct association with Russia on the basis of refusing to carry out an arrangement in which the good faith of our government was involved would wreck the whole co-operative attempt at its very beginning.
I always felt that the Western Allies could probably have secured an agreement to occupy more of Germany than we actually did. I believe that if our political heads had been as convinced as we were at SHAEF of the certainty of early victory in the West they would have insisted, at Yalta, upon the line of the Elbe as the natural geographic line dividing the eastern and western occupation areas. Although in late January 1945 we were still west of the Rhine, and indeed had not yet demolished the Siegfried Line, my staff and I had informed our superiors that we expected to proceed rapidly to great victories.11 Except for a fear that we could advance no farther eastward, there would seem to have been little reason for agreeing to an occupational line no deeper into Germany than Eisenach. This, however, is pure speculation. I have never discussed the matter with any of the individuals directly responsible for the decision.
In any event the Berlin record of those late summer and early autumn months of 1945 represents the peak of postwar cordiality and co-operation that we were ever able to achieve with the Soviet officials. In broader fields, on highest levels, misunderstandings continued to grow and these were inevitably reflected in the local German scene. It is possible, also, that this process worked in reverse.
Americans at that time—or at least we in Berlin—saw no reason why the Russian system of government and democracy as practiced by the Western Allies could not live side by side in the world, provided each respected the rights, the territory, and the convictions of the other, and each system avoided overt or covert action against the integrity of the other. Because implicit in Western democracy is respect for the rights of others, it seemed natural to us that this “live and let live” type of agreement could be achieved and honestly kept. That was probably the most for which we ever really hoped. But even such a purely practical basis for living together in the world has not been achieved.
What caused the change—not necessarily in the realm of ultimate purpose but definitely in the apparent desire for a pragmatic approach to co-operation—may possibly never be clearly understood by any of us. But two and one half years of growing tension have shattered our dream of rapid progress toward universal peace and the elimination of armaments. Seriously and soberly, aware of our strengths and our weaknesses, sure of our moral rectitude, we must address ourselves to the new tensions that beset the world.
The implications of the failure to eliminate aggression and to co-operate effectively are as full of meaning for the world as were the dictatorial and arbitrary acts in the late 1930s of Hitler, Mussolini, and Hirohito. The name of almost every small country of eastern Europe is a reminder to us of the lost objectives so bravely stated in the Atlantic Charter, even before Pearl Harbor Day. Fear, doubt, and confusion are the portion of those who fought and won the war with the fervent prayer that at last
this was the war to end wars.
Volumes have been, and more volumes will be, written on the collapse of world co-operation and the true significance of the events that accompanied the tragedy. For us, all their words will amplify one simple truth. Freedom from fear and injustice and oppression will be ours only in the measure that men who value such freedom are ready to sustain its possession—to defend it against every thrust from within or without.
The compelling necessities of the moment leave us no alternative to the maintenance of real and respectable strength—not only in our moral rectitude and our economic power, but in terms of adequate military preparedness. To neglect this, pending universal resurgence of a definite spirit of co-operation, is not only foolish, it is criminally stupid. Moreover, present-day weakness will alarm our friends, earn the contempt of others, and virtually eliminate any influence of ours toward peaceful adjustment of world problems. The lessons of 1914 and 1939 remain valid so long as the world has not learned the futility of making competitive force the final arbiter of human questions.
Military preparedness alone is an inadequate answer to the problem. Communism inspires and enables its militant preachers to exploit injustices and inequity among men. This ideology appeals, not to the Italian or Frenchman or South American as such, but to men as human beings who become desperate in the attempt to satisfy common human needs. Therein it possesses a profound power for expansion. Wherever popular discontent is founded on group oppression or mass poverty or the hunger of children, there Communism may stage an offensive that arms cannot counter. Discontent can be fanned into revolution, and revolution into social chaos. The sequel is dictatorial rule. Against such tactics exclusive reliance on military might is vain.
The areas in which freedom flourishes will continue to shrink unless the supporters of democracy match Communist fanaticism with clear and common understanding that the freedom of men is at stake; meet Communist-regimented unity with the voluntary unity of common purpose, even though this may mean a sacrifice of some measure of nationalistic pretensions; and, above all, annul Communist appeals to the hungry, the poor, the oppressed, with practical measures untiringly prosecuted for the elimination of social and economic evils that set men against men.
As a world force, democracy is supported by nations that too much and too often act alone, each for itself alone. Nowhere perfect, in many regions democracy is pitifully weak because the separatism of national sovereignty uselessly prevents the logical pooling of resources, which would produce greater material prosperity within and multiplied strength for defense. Such division may mean ideological conquest.
The democracies must learn that the world is now too small for the rigid concepts of national sovereignty that developed in a time when the nations were self-sufficient and self-dependent for their own well-being and safety. None of them today can stand alone. No radical surrender of national sovereignty is required—only a firm agreement that in disputes between nations a central and joint agency, after examination of the facts, shall decide the justice of the case by majority vote and thereafter shall have the power and the means to enforce its decision. This is a slight restriction indeed on nationalism and a small price to pay if thereby the peoples who stand for human liberty are better fitted to settle dissension within their own ranks or to meet attack from without.
Here is the true, long-term assurance that democracy may flourish in the world. Physical means and skillful organization may see it safely through a crisis, but only if basically the democracy of our day satisfies the mental, moral, and physical wants of the masses living under it can it continue to exist.
We believe individual liberty, rooted in human dignity, is man’s greatest treasure. We believe that men, given free expression of their will, prefer freedom and self-dependence to dictatorship and collectivism. From the evidence, it would appear that the Communist leaders also believe this; else why do they attack and attempt to destroy the practice of these concepts? Were they completely confident in the rectitude and appeal of their own doctrine, there would be no necessity for them to follow an aggressive policy. Time would be the only ally they needed if Communism as a spiritual force and moral inspiration appealed more to mankind than do individual rights and liberties. We who saw Europe liberated know that the Communistic fear that men will cling to freedom is well founded. It is possible that this truth may be the reason for what appears to be an aggressive intent on the part of the Communists to tear down all governmental structures based upon individual freedom.
If the men and women of America face this issue as squarely and bravely as their soldiers faced the terrors of battle in World War II, we would have no fear of the outcome. If they will unite themselves as firmly as they did when they provided, with their Allies in Europe, the mightiest fighting force of all time, there is no temporal power that can dare challenge them. If they can retain the moral integrity, the clarity of comprehension, and the readiness to sacrifice that finally crushed the Axis, then the free world will live and prosper, and all peoples, eventually, will reach a level of culture, contentment, and security that has never before been achieved.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
MILLIONS, IN UNIFORM AND OUT, WERE responsible for the military accomplishments recounted in this book. In this sense, they wrote the story and no enumeration of collaborators is possible. But in a personal sense I am deeply indebted to a group of close friends for the assistance that allowed me quickly to concentrate and edit wartime notes, memoranda, and memories into a single narrative of my experiences in World War II. Among them the Hon. Joseph E. Davies, former ambassador to the U.S.S.R.; my wartime chief of staff, now Ambassador, Walter B. Smith; and Brigadier General Edwin Clark, formerly a valuable assistant of mine in SHAEF, were primarily responsible for persuading me that I should undertake the task at all. Without their insistence and urging there would certainly have been no collection of notes and memoranda from which to start. Brigadier General Arthur S. Nevins and Kevin McCann, who rose from private to lieutenant colonel during the war, were indispensable assistants throughout the preparation of the book, once the decision to write it had been made. To these, especially, and to all those who served on my staff at various periods during and after the war, my grateful thanks for what may be good herein; my apologies for what is bad.
FOOTNOTES
CHAPTER 1: Prelude to War
1. Strength Accounting Branch, Adjutant General’s Office, Department of the Army; U. S. Navy, Bureau of Naval Personnel; U. S. Coast Guard, Treasury Department.
2. The Campaign in Poland, 1939, Department of Military Art and Engineering, U. S. Military Academy, 1943.
3. General George C. Marshall, C. of S., U.S.A., Biennial Report to the Secretary of War, July 1, 1939–June 30, 1941, pp. 1, 2, and Chart 1; and Munitions for the Army, a five-year report on the procurement of munitions by the War Department under the direction of the Under Secretary of War.
4. Marshall, op. cit., pp. 4–9.
5. The bill for extension was passed on August 12 by the House with only one vote to spare. “There were—yeas 203, nays 202, not voting 27.” Congressional Record, Vol. 87, Part 7, p. 7074.
6. Marshall, op. cit., Charts 1 and 2 (facing p. 34).
7. History of the Second Army, Study No. 16, Historical Section, Army Ground Forces, pp. 23–26.
8. Second Army vs. First Army, Critiques, General McNair’s Papers, Files 354.2/2 and 354.2/3, Adjutant General’s Office.
9. The Pearl Harbor attack time was about 0700, December 7. Clark Field, Luzon, was attacked at 1220, December 8 (local time), or about 1620, December 7 (Hawaiian time). Army Air Action in the Philippines and Netherlands East Indies, 1941–42, AAFRH-11, Assistant Chief of Air Intelligence, p. 35.
CHAPTER 2: Global War
1. Of the seven carriers and one escort carrier in the U. S. Navy on December 7, 1941, three carriers were in the Pacific. The Saratoga was en route to San Diego, the Enterprise and the Lexington were with Task Force 8 in the Solo
mons. Disposition of Vessels in United States Navy, December 7, 1941, Office of Naval Records.
2. Marshall, Biennial Report, July 1, 1941–June 30, 1943, p. 8.
3. Strengths were as follows: U. S. Army (exclusive of Philippine Scouts)—approximately 10,000, Philippine Scouts—12,000, U. S. Air Force—8000. Estimate Pacific Section, Historical Division, War Department Special Staff, after consideration of a number of conflicting sources.
4. Memo Report, National Guard Bureau, Department of the Army, January 3, 1946.
5. The War Reports of General George C. Marshall, General H. H. Arnold, Admiral Ernest J. King, p. 332.
6. Fleet Admiral Ernest J. King, U.S.N., United States Navy at War, 1941–45, Official Reports, pp. 39, 42.
7. The United States at War, Historical Reports on War Administration, Bureau of the Budget, No. 1, p. 237.
8. Colonel Julian F. Barnes, Report of Organization and Activities of U. S. Forces in Australia, December 7, 1941–June 30, 1942, AGO.
9. Minutes of the Joint Board Meetings, December 8, 9, 10, P & O Files, Department of the Army.
10. Strength Accounting Branch, AGO, STM-30, January 1, 1948, pp. 37, 40–41.
11. Memo, WPD for C. of S., February 28, 1942; subject: Strategic Conceptions and Their Application to the Southwest Pacific, Exec. 4, P & O Files, Department of the Army.
12. Target: Germany, The Army Air Forces’ Official Story of the VIII Bomber Command’s First Year over Europe, published in co-operation with Life Magazine by Simon and Schuster, New York, 1943, p. 27.
13. Memo, WPD for TAG, January 17, 1942; subject: Command in Far East, WPD 4560–9, AGO.
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