The Russians, though reluctantly let into the secret, did make one extraordinary contribution to Overlord. Over a year before, the Red Army had mauled Germany’s 320th Infantry Division, capturing its codes and classified documents. The 320th was the force that had smashed Allied troops at Dieppe on August 19, 1942, during a small-scale landing launched to test German coastal defenses in France. After bloodily beating off the landing force, the 320th’s officers prepared a critique of all the mistakes the Allies had made, a virtual how-not-to manual. The Russians turned over this analysis to the British, who shared it with the Americans. An Army G-2 officer described the critique of Dieppe as “probably the most important document exploited in preparation for D-Day.”
Kept from the D-Day secret was another presumed ally. General Charles de Gaulle, leader of the French Committee of National Liberation, was now operating out of Algiers. The proud, sensitive De Gaulle had, by the spring of 1944, managed to alienate both Roosevelt and Churchill by styling himself the head of the French government-in-exile. The two leaders were willing to accept De Gaulle as commander of Free French forces and of the French resistance, but they resented his presumption that he led France. So annoyed was Roosevelt with De Gaulle’s arrogance that at one point he suggested the imperious general be arrested and kept under guard. Churchill declared, “We call him Joan of Arc, and we’re looking for some bishops to burn him.”
FDR cabled Churchill about the Free French, “Personally, I do not think that we can give military information to a source which has a bad record of secrecy.” The Prime Minister agreed, telling FDR that De Gaulle should not be allowed to leave Algiers for London until “D-Day at dawn.” Still, keeping De Gaulle in the dark proved ticklish. As Churchill advised FDR, “The resistance army numbers 175,000 men.” These underground fighters were counted on, once Overlord was launched, to blow up bridges and rail lines, to harass German troops from the rear, to do everything possible to slow the shift of enemy reinforcements to the invasion beaches. At an opportune moment, Roosevelt and Churchill wanted De Gaulle to go on the air to appeal to the French people to support the invasion. But, kept in the dark as Overlord’s stepchild, the Frenchman was not eager to cooperate. Making De Gaulle privy to the operation too soon, however, risked having the crucial date leaked to the French underground, which the Germans had penetrated. Telling him too late would negate the value of his appeal to his countrymen. In the end, FDR and Churchill agreed that De Gaulle should be brought to England, but not until twenty-four hours before D-Day, to be briefed by Eisenhower. Ike was to lead him to believe that the assault on the Normandy beaches was only a diversion. The misled De Gaulle grudgingly agreed to make the broadcast to his people.
FDR worried about another soft spot in security. Obeying the old adage that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, many Irish, in their hatred for the British, behaved sympathetically toward Germany. Early in the war, FDR had been angered by Irish prime minister Eamon de Valera’s refusal to grant the United States anti-submarine bases on Ireland’s west coast. Now, with Overlord approaching, Bill Donovan reported to Roosevelt, “[A] great deal of information pertaining to Allied activities in England and Ulster comes from the German embassy in Dublin.” Fritz Kolbe, in scanning the Nazi foreign office correspondence which he passed to Allen Dulles in Bern, reported that German diplomats in Dublin had managed to identify six hundred air installations in England involved in Overlord.
When FDR learned that agents of the German intelligence service, the Sicherheitsdienst (SD), equipped with wireless radios, were parachuting outside Galway, he decided that Irish neutrality had been stretched far enough. He found particularly disconcerting that every move of the U.S. XV Corps, stationed in Ulster and preparing to transfer to England for Overlord, was reported to the German General Staff by Abwehr agents in Ireland. FDR instructed the American ambassador, David Gray, to deliver a note to President De Valera charging that Irish neutrality “continues to operate in favor of the Axis powers.” The note ended with Roosevelt’s demand that the Irish shut down the German and Japanese embassies in Dublin, seize their radios, and sever diplomatic relations with Tokyo and Berlin. De Valera, as much the politician as FDR, knew how far he dared push his countrymen in a tilt toward Britain. Consequently, Roosevelt’s pressure only partially succeeded. Police from the Irish Special Branch did raid the Axis missions in Dublin and seize their radios. But the Irish government did not end its relations with Germany or Japan.
That unimpeachable source, Ambassador Oshima, continued as Roosevelt’s unwitting eyes and ears, revealing the prized secret of the enemy’s strength. Early in 1944, Oshima saw Hitler and, as usual, faithfully reported to Tokyo the Führer’s words. In this conversation, Hitler confided to him, “Now as for the question of the second front in the west; no matter when or at what point it comes I have made adequate preparations for meeting it. In Finland we have seven divisions; in Norway, twelve; in Denmark, six; in France, including Belgium and the low countries, sixty-two… . I have got together as many armored divisions as possible; among them are four SS Divisions and the Hermann Goering Divisions, so you see what I have been able to do in the way of preparing. But how vast is that sea coast! It would be utterly impossible for me to prevent some sort of landing somewhere or other. But all they can do is establish a bridgehead. I will stop, absolutely, any second front in the real sense of the word.” Hitler described his trump card. “Then too, there is that revenge against England. We are going to do it principally with rocket-guns. Everything is now ready. Practice shows that they are extremely effective… . I cannot tell you just when we will begin, but we are going to really do something to the British Isles.” Oshima pressed for more detail on the second front and asked, “Does Your Excellency have any idea where they may land?” “Honestly, I can say no more than that I do not know,” Hitler answered. “For a second front, beyond any doubt, the most effective area would be the Straits of Dover, but to land there would require great readiness and its difficulty would be great. Consequently, I don’t think that the enemy would run such a risk. On the other hand, along the Bordeaux coast and in Portugal the defenses are relatively weak, so this zone might be a possibility.” Wherever the blow was struck, Hitler assured his ally, “We Germans have plenty of plans, and listen, I don’t want you to say anything about them to a living soul.”
Early in May, German radio monitors on the Dutch coast believed they had scored what Walter Schellenberg, their SD chief, rated a bull’s-eye. By then, German engineers had succeeded in unscrambling the more complex device developed by the Bell Telephone System for protecting the highest-level Allied phone conversations. Barely a month before the invasion was to take place, monitors at Eindhoven listened in on a five-minute transatlantic talk between Roosevelt and Churchill. The breakthrough, however, proved more impressive in technique than in substance. The two leaders discussed the massive invasion buildup in southern England, but were mute on where and when. The transcript, delivered to Hitler, contained a curious good-bye from Roosevelt which the enemy searched for hidden meaning: “Well, we will do our best—now I will go fishing.”
As the date for Overlord neared, Hitler abandoned earlier guesses that the Allies might strike through the Balkans, Scandinavia, Portugal, or the French Atlantic coast. He issued Directive 51, pinpointing the Pas de Calais: “For it is there that the enemy must and will attack,” even though “diversionary attacks,” as at Normandy, “are to be expected.” He was now telling Ambassador Oshima, whose report was again snatched by Magic, “They would establish a bridgehead at Normandy or Brittany, and that after seeing how things went, they would embark on establishing a real second front in the Straits.” Hitler also predicted with alarming closeness that “the Cotentin [Peninsula] would be the first target of the enemy.” Consequently, two seasoned German armored divisions and two infantry divisions were added to the Normandy defenses. Still, Hitler kept his strongest forces facing Dover, across the Pas de Calais.
Three weeks
before D-Day, FDR sent a proposal classified “Top Secret” to Churchill and Stalin. As soon as the invasion was under way, he suggested that he broadcast the following message to the Continent: “What I want to impress upon the people of Germany and their sympathizers is the inevitability of their defeat… . Every German life that is lost from now on is an unnecessary loss. From a cold-blooded point of view, it is true that the Allies will suffer losses as well; but the Allies so greatly outnumber the Germans in population and resources that on a relative basis the Germans will be far harder hit… . The government of the United States—with nearly twice the population of Germany—send word to the people of Germany that this is the time to abandon the teachings of evil.” Churchill did not like the idea. “I brought your No. 341 before the Cabinet,” he cabled back. “Considerable concern was expressed at the tone of friendship shown to the Germans at this moment when the troops are about to engage… . The message might conceivably be taken as a peace feeler.” Stalin was equally negative. “I have received your message regarding the appeal to the German people… . Taking into consideration the whole experience of war with the Germans and the character of the Germans, I think that the proposal by you cannot bring positive effect… .”
At the same time that FDR was proposing this appeal to the Germans, his private operative John Franklin Carter suggested to him something more devilish, born in the imagination of Putzi Hanfstaengl. “I assume that somewhere here or in England we already have a man who can imitate Hitler’s voice and style in speechmaking,” Carter told the President. “On the eve of the invasion, let the fake Hitler broadcast over all of our black radio stations along these lines: Instruct the German troops, German civilians and citizens of occupied countries to put up only a token resistance to the invasion and to cooperate with Anglo-American forces.” Carter went on to suggest that the phony Führer declare “that he has reached an understanding with the leaders of England and America for Anglo-American forces to cooperate with Germany in holding back the Jewish hordes of Asiatic Bolshevists from Europe. Let him state that U.S. bombers will soon establish air-bases in Germany to enable the forces of civilization to reconquer Moscow, Leningrad, Stalingrad etc.”
Oddly, FDR, always so cautious not to provoke Stalin, did not reject Carter’s scheme out of hand, but sent it to the country’s propaganda chief, Elmer Davis, head of the Office of War Information, with a note asking, “What do you think of this idea?” Davis displayed a healthy skepticism, advising the President, “For a matter of two or three hours it might cause considerable confusion in Germany.” But, Davis warned, “the success of the invasion is not likely to depend on two or three hours.” Putzi’s brainstorm ended up in FDR’s wastebasket.
Though the Germans were still in the dark about Overlord, Churchill was haunted by the operation’s potentially exorbitant cost in bloodshed. At one point the Prime Minister told Eisenhower, “When I think of the beaches of Normandy choked with the flower of American and British youth, and when in my mind’s eye I see the tides running red with their blood, I have my doubts. I have my doubts.” British commanders reported that 90 percent of their junior officers did not expect to survive D-Day. General Omar Bradley discovered that 90 percent of the men of the 29th Infantry Division, destined to hit Omaha Beach, also expected to die. An alarmed Bradley gave the division a pep talk dismissing the likelihood of casualties so high. But driving back to London with his aide, he confessed, “I doubt if I did much good.”
On May 7, with the invasion date less than a month off, Churchill lamented to FDR the number of innocent French lives that would be lost when Allied bombers began blasting rail centers. “I am personally by no means convinced that this is the best way to use our air forces in the preliminary period, and still think that the GAF [German air force] should be the main target.” Early estimates by his war cabinet were that French civilian casualties could reach 20,000 dead and 60,000 injured. Subsequently, the estimate was revised downward to 10,000 dead. Still, Churchill found the price appalling, and he told Roosevelt, “… [T]he war cabinet shares my apprehension of the bad effect which will be produced upon the French civilian population by these slaughters, all taking place so long before D-Day. They may easily bring out a great revulsion in French feeling towards their approaching United States and British liberators.” But General Eisenhower wanted rail lines that were capable of moving German troops to the beaches to be interdicted. And FDR, unlike Churchill, was disinclined to overrule the judgments of his military chiefs.
Less than a week before D-Day, the President received precise knowledge of how the Germans were bracing for the attack. On May 28, Oshima again met with Hitler and asked, “I wonder what ideas you have on how the Second Front will be carried out?” According to the ambassador’s dispatch to Tokyo, the Führer, sticking by his earlier hunch, answered, “Well, as for me, judging from relatively ominous portents, I think that Ablenkungsoperazionen (diversionary action) will take place against Norway, Denmark, the southern part of Western France and the coasts of the French Mediterranean—various places. After that, after they have established bridgeheads on the Norman and Brittany Peninsulas and seen how the prospect appears, they will come forward with the establishment of an all out Second Front in the area of the Straits of Dover.” Both Bodyguard and Fortitude were evidently working. Roosevelt had it from Hitler’s mouth, courtesy of the codebreakers at Arlington Hall. The timing of the invasion, however, was beginning to pierce the fog of disinformation. Oshima spoke to the chief of German intelligence in Bern, who told him, “… [M]ost indications point toward this action sometime around the last of May.” It was harrowingly close. As for the where of Overlord, the same officer told Oshima, “[I]n my judgment they will strike with might against the Netherlands, Belgium, and west coast of France… .” The other predicted sites were too garbled for the Magic codebreakers to decipher.
Every night, members of the French resistance huddled around their clandestine shortwave radios listening to the recital of short, seemingly meaningless “personal” messages broadcast by the BBC from London. They had been alerted that when they heard the line by the French poet Paul Verlaine, “Les sanglots longs des violons de l’automne” (The long sobs of the violins of autumn), the invasion would occur within fifteen days. When a second Verlaine line, “Blessant mon coeur d’une langueur monotone” (Wounding my heart with a dull languor), was broadcast, the invasion was about to begin. Abwehr agents, too, knew the two-part code. They had beaten it out of a captured resistance leader. The first signal was heard on June 1. On June 5, at 9:15 P.M., a German monitoring station under a concrete bunker at Tourcoing in northern France picked up the second Verlaine line. Though distributed throughout Wehrmacht commands, this warning did not provoke a heightened state of readiness beyond what already existed.
The hour had arrived. All was risked on this cross-Channel throw of the dice. No contingency plan existed. If Overlord failed, it could not be remounted.
Chapter XXII
Cracks in the Reich
DURING THE war years, not all the President’s tightly held secrets were military. For the world’s greatest power, immersed sinew and spirit in a global war, the appearance of strength in its leader was symbolically as important as the strength of the nation itself. Franklin Roosevelt, tethered to a wheelchair for the past twenty-three years, his legs shrunken from disuse, had nevertheless for eleven years of his presidency displayed astonishing strength and vitality. But in the year of greatest stress, as the war’s outcome hinged on the gamble of Overlord, the man began to slip into visible decline. The first to express concern was his daughter, Anna. She had been with her father the previous fall at Tehran, where she noticed that his weight had dropped alarmingly, his appetite was poor, and his hands trembled constantly as he scattered cigarette ashes over his clothes and papers. Purple half-moons developed under his eyes. His fingernails displayed a blue-gray cast. His breathing was shallow, and the timbre of that sonorous voice had thinned. Occasiona
lly, his mouth hung open, and he left sentences dangling.
In March 1944, Anna left her home in Seattle to stay for a time at the White House. Alarmed at her father’s continuing deterioration, she begged his physician, Vice Admiral McIntire, to arrange a thorough physical examination. The admiral, a nose and throat specialist, recognized the likely cause of his patient’s waning health and accepted his limitations in that sphere. On March 27 he called the Bethesda Naval Hospital and arranged for Lieutenant Commander Howard Bruenn, Bethesda’s best cardiologist, to see the President. Before Bruenn saw his patient, McIntire warned him that no matter what he found he was not to tell Roosevelt anything. He was to report only to the admiral. McIntire described the appointment to curious reporters as the President’s “annual check up.” For years, part of the physician’s job had been to assure the world that, in spite of his paralysis, Franklin Roosevelt enjoyed splendid health. He saw no reason now to change that portrayal.
Joseph E. Persico Page 42