Before Ike could get to London and his new command, however, he was forced by General Marshall to return to Washington, to meet with President Roosevelt, and to spend some time with his wife.31 Mamie was an unhappy woman. She and her husband had been separated for a long time and there had been all too much attention paid in the gossip network to Kay Summersby, Eisenhower’s beautiful Irish driver. Kathleen McCarthy-Morrogh Summersby had been with Ike since his first tour in London, and since then, the general had spent far more time with her than he had with Mamie or any other woman.32 While Eisenhower tried on his visit to patch things up with his wife, the effort flopped—as those efforts often do—and he left for London with his marriage intact but less secure than his appointment as Supreme Commander. He took off on January 13, 1944, with plenty to worry about on both fronts.
Being Supreme
In London, the new Supreme Commander had a full helping of challenges. While soon he would be launching the largest amphibious operation in military history, the landings in France would have a narrow margin favoring success.33 Even if the Allies could crack the formidable German defenses and create the projected beachheads, failure was a real possibility.34
As he told the Joint Chiefs of Staff in March 1944, “It would be fatal to underestimate the difficulties of the assault.”35 The operation would test the Allied ability to establish lodgments in the first wave and then with reinforcements expand them quickly enough to withstand the anticipated German onslaught. General von Rundstedt had substantial forces to deploy in that counterattack. His problem would the rapid movement and effective concentration of his divisions in the face of overwhelming Allied air superiority.
Nervous about the landings, Ike tried to squeeze as many divisions as possible into the grand plan.36 He anticipated “stern fighting” on the ground. “The fact is that against a German defense” he needed “solid tactical power and overwhelming strength. Recently,” he added, “a Russian general casually remarked that when they wanted to make a real drive they preferred to get a superiority at the critical spot of about four to one.”37 He would not have that advantage in Normandy. General Marshall and Secretary of War Stimson, too, were worried about whether Eisenhower had the forces he needed for the invasion.38
From 1942 through 1944, the bind on landing crafts had imposed severe limits on each of the Allies’ amphibious operations. Now the Combined Chiefs of Staff had to decide if they had enough ships to attack through southern France as well as across the Channel.39 Like each of the major debates over strategy, this one divided the Allies. The British wanted to abandon the southern assault and concentrate on the Mediterranean and Normandy.40 The Americans had long favored an amphibious attack in southern France that would make full use of the forces already in Italy. At stake were the landing crafts that both campaigns would need.41 The British-American split continued through seemingly endless debates that were, Ike said, “getting a bit wearing.”42
Eisenhower finally resolved the issue by exercising his newfound authority. He persuaded the Chiefs of Staff to compromise by delaying—instead of cancelling—the attack in the south of France to enable Overlord to have a reasonable chance for success.43 Even then, the margin on landing ships was thin. This was still true as late as April 1944, when nine German torpedo boats attacked a convoy of Allied landing craft practicing for the invasion at Slapton Sands on the coast of Devon. The E-boats sank two LSTs (landing ship tanks) and damaged a third, killing 700 of the soldiers taking part in the exercise. Eisenhower lamented the losses and pointed out to the Chiefs of Staff that his reserve of LSTs was now zero.44 There were no more ships to be found.
There was nothing Ike could do to eliminate that constraint on his forces, but he thought he had a reasonable chance to improve his odds in Normandy by bringing the Allies’ air forces into full support of the invasion. While it seems astonishing that the air commanders vigorously resisted Eisenhower’s demands to devote 100 percent of their effort to the cross-Channel attack, this was indeed the case.45 Nor was it a new problem. From the beginning to the end of the North African campaign, Ike had experienced trouble getting the results he wanted from his air force. National differences about military command blended with a distinctive air force culture to make thoroughgoing coordination almost impossible to achieve. Eisenhower had been seeking unity since the beginning of the war, but all too often he felt like a man on a merry-go-round grabbing at a ring that always slipped from his grasp.
Still, it was worth the effort and the emotions it aroused. He leaned hard on this issue and refused to back off.46 Ike had learned from the struggle at Salerno how important airpower could be to an amphibious assault. It could, he knew, swing the battle in a tight situation. Anticipating that D-Day would be a close play, he was not going to leave any doubt about what he needed. In his mind, this would also determine whether he was now Supreme Commander of a thoroughly integrated force or, in essence, merely “Supreme Coordinator” of services that would make their separate plans and guide strategy as well as tactics.
The problem was complicated by the distinctive air force ideology that was in normal circumstances an important asset. While the British and Americans airmen disagreed about tactics (the United States favored precision daytime bombing and the British nighttime area bombing), all believed that airpower alone could significantly reduce Germany’s ability to carry on the war, and perhaps even force a German surrender. The American approach was based on the assumption that there would be a decline in German air defenses, and the British assumed that their raids would destroy German morale as well as industrial capacity. Neither of these things happened, at least not initially, but this was not well documented in early 1944, and the leaders of the air campaign remained extremely optimistic about the impact of their bombing.47 If you believed, as General Henry “Hap” Arnold did, that “the issue hangs now on which side first falters, weakens, and loses its punishing power,” you were prepared to fight hard for the existing bombing operations.48
The debates over authority and strategy dragged on after Lieutenant General Carl Spaatz took command of the US Strategic Air Forces in Europe in January 1944. Amid some new signs that the German air defense was weakening, Spaatz put forward a proposal to concentrate on the enemy’s oil supplies.49 Eisenhower had no trouble understanding the importance of a modern army’s supply of gasoline. He had struggled throughout the North African campaign to keep his forces resupplied with fuel as well as ammunition. But from his perspective, the priority of Overlord had to be acknowledged, as did the authority of the Supreme Commander.
Although the Combined Chiefs created the Ninth Air Force specifically to support the landings, the debates continued.50 National and service identities were remarkably durable. The air commanders dug in and resisted being subordinated to a new international, hierarchical system under a single, powerful commander. Eisenhower wanted to settle the issue quickly and forcefully before the action started. Unfortunately, his directive from the Combined Chiefs did not specifically confirm his authority over the air forces of the two nations. So he went above the Chiefs of Staff and pressed Churchill on the issue. He stamped very hard, telling Churchill that he would give up his command if his authority was not affirmed. This was apparently the only time Eisenhower used that threat. It worked. The prime minister folded.51
But then, of course, the new directive had to be expressed in new language. Given the stakes in Europe, the discussion edged past embarrassing and became ludicrous. Would Ike have “command”? Or would he provide “supervision”? Men were dying and more would die very soon while their leaders, all intelligent, experienced military professionals, were nit-picking. They finally compromised on “direction.”52
Semantics notwithstanding, Ike quickly solidified his position by providing “direction” to the air forces—in effect, transforming “direction” into “command.”53 The major bombing campaigns continued, and they had the side effect of wearing down the Luftwaffe fighter fleet. But Eisenhower
got the planes and missions he needed to prepare the way for Overlord.
The first priority became destruction of the French infrastructure that otherwise would allow the Wehrmacht to continue to strengthen the Atlantic Wall and prepare to mount a counterattack against the landings. Even if all the landings were entirely successful—which seemed unlikely—the Allied forces would still be vulnerable until they could bring ashore additional divisions, tanks, and artillery. The air campaign was designed to provide insurance that the divisions that landed in Normandy would not be driven back into the sea before their reinforcements arrived.54
As soon as Eisenhower had that crucial issue settled and his command properly structured, he quickly took steps to keep his team united and working toward the same goal.55 He compromised with Spaatz and his “oil strategy.” Meanwhile, he had appointed a British air marshal, Arthur Tedder, as his deputy supreme commander to supervise air operations.56 Tedder’s appointment did not stop the niggling about strategy, but Eisenhower and his new deputy were able to combine forces and override the opposition.57
From Ike’s perspective, this was the most important single form of disunity with which he had to deal in early 1944. There were others. But his struggle with the air command was the most taxing and the most important to the outcome of his mission. The results of the pre-invasion bombings in April and May 1944 justified the energy Ike had put into shaping this part of his command.58 The Allied planes destroyed rail lines, bridges, and rail yards. They established such air superiority over France that they forced German commanders Rundstedt and Rommel to alter their plans for the counterattacks vital to their defensive strategy.59
Invading
By early June, Eisenhower’s armies, navies, and air forces were primed for the grand assault on Normandy.60 The size of the operation was staggering. On June 3 all of the 130,000 ground troops were aboard their ships and the twelve convoys were prepared to sail. The Allied battleships, cruisers, and destroyers were ready to escort them and provide the naval firepower they hoped would destroy German artillery and neutralize significant fortifications in the Atlantic Wall. For Eisenhower, relations with the Allied naval services had gone smoothly in North Africa, Sicily, and Italy—and once again in Overlord. Ike knew that he would need those naval guns to keep his ground forces from being stalemated on the beaches by German artillery fire.61 Everything that could be planned had been planned, many times over.
Still, a great uncertainty loomed over the invasion and kept the Supreme Commander opening new packs of cigarettes, eating poorly, and sleeping very little. Given his history of stress-related health problems, this was a tense situation for the one man who could not spend any time in the hospital in June 1944. All the thousands of decisions, orders, meetings, and requests gave way at this time to a single final decision that he had to make.
Camped out in a trailer near Portsmouth on the English Channel, Eisenhower agonized over the final order to launch the assault. He had to do that on the basis of incomplete knowledge about the weather in the English Channel. An optimistic report by his senior meteorologist convinced him to put the vast force in motion, targeting June 5. But then the weather turned bad, very bad. Eisenhower, who was already feeling “the intensity of these burdens,” was forced to reconsider his decision.62 Meeting with his commanders in Admiral Bertram Ramsay’s office in Southwick House, Ike heard that there would be overcast skies that would eliminate his air cover and high winds that would cause disarray in the landing force. He opted for a delay. The next day, Sunday, June 4, the forecast was still dismal, and he called the fleet back for another day of tense delay.
Later in the day, the forecast changed again. This time it looked more promising. A predicted break in the weather reopened the issue and sparked a new debate. Eisenhower polled his commanders. Air Marshal Trafford Leigh-Mallory was pessimistic about the odds, and even Ike’s deputy and close confidant Tedder was not optimistic. General Montgomery was ready to go, as was Admiral Ramsay. With a divided house, Ike rolled the issue around in his mind.
Worried, reflective, feeling the terrible weight of the moment, Eisenhower decided to launch the greatest fleet in history and attack early on June 6. This was the single most important decision of his military career—and he knew it. Professional careers seldom turn on a single event. Lawyers win some cases and lose others, but they normally continue in their profession until their retirement. Surgeons lose a patient from time to time, but they continue to practice. General practitioners and nurses toil away for decades, treating patients one at a time, healing or presiding over death, without a single outstanding test of their ability to understand, prevent, or cure disease. For the military officer in peacetime, the same conditions normally applied, as they had for both Ike and General Marshall until December 1941.
In wartime, however, military careers are hostage to single, cataclysmic events. As are the lives of their soldiers. All too many of those events are beyond the control of any commander. Eisenhower’s long army career, his reputation, and his role in history were all on the line in June 1944. If the weather turned nasty, as it easily could, or if the Germans responded with greater force than anticipated, as they could, Eisenhower’s decision would be a footnote to failure in the next generation’s textbooks. Feeling the immense pressure, Eisenhower wrote the following note and placed it in his billfold:
Our landings in the Cherbourg-Havre area have failed to gain a satisfactory foothold and I have withdrawn the troops. My decision to attack at this time and place was based upon the best information available. The troops, the air and the Navy did all that Bravery and devotion to duty could do. If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt it is mine alone …
If a single document had to be used to define Eisenhower’s character and leadership, it would be this message, which he was prepared to use if the invasion failed.63
Since failure was obviously on the Supreme Commander’s mind, we should reflect for a moment on the consequences if the invasion forces had been disrupted by a mighty storm or driven by the German tanks and infantry back into the English Channel.64 It clearly would have had catastrophic political, social, and even economic ramifications that would have been of far more significance to Europe and the United States than any military or political leader’s career. At that time, the military situation in Europe was lopsided. The most significant action was taking place in eastern Europe, where the Soviets were launching their giant spring offensive on five fronts. Soon Stalin’s armies would crush Germany’s Army Group Centre and advance more than 300 miles toward Berlin. Those German divisions that were not surrounded would retreat in good order, but retreat would be their common fate. Their counterattacks would be blunted, their losses severe. Many of their most experienced divisions would be destroyed in titanic battles that involved more than 6 million German and Soviet soldiers and unbelievable casualties.65
The Soviet summer offensive decided the political fate of eastern Europe, and a D-Day failure would have left western Europe open to Soviet influence and perhaps Stalin’s control.66 By the end of the summer of 1944, his armies were only 400 miles from Berlin, capable of seizing Germany’s capital, conquering the industrial Ruhr, and standing astride the economic heartland of Europe.67 In Washington, among those planning the war, there had been “an occasional expression of foreboding” over the USSR’s role in the postwar settlement.68 But the overriding concern was “the task at hand”: winning the war.69 Eisenhower was not the only American leader who forgot in 1944 the lessons they had learned from reading Carl von Clausewitz’s On War.
A D-Day failure also would have had significant political consequences in the United States and Britain, where voters were eager for success in a war that already seemed far too long and deadly. Would the democracies have chosen new leaders after Roosevelt and Churchill replaced Eisenhower and retired British Chief of Staff Alan Brooke? That seems unlikely. But I am certain that both FDR and Churchill thought about it as the invasion forces sailed
in early June. Throughout the campaigns in North Africa, Sicily, and Italy, both FDR and Marshall had been forced repeatedly to deal with political controversies over the progress of the war. Churchill’s British opponents were vigorous and alert to any hint of failure on the part of a prime minister who was also serving as minister of defence.
Everyone had something to worry about, and those who were most honest about the odds were most pessimistic. But even an honest pessimist such as Ike was compelled by his role as a leader to convey optimism to his commanders and troops. He had done that in the previous weeks while visiting as many of the units headed for Normandy as his schedule allowed. He had a unique talent for bridging the enormous gap between the Supreme Commander and the soldiers, sailors, and airmen who were headed into combat. Of all those going across the Channel, the paratroopers were in greatest danger. Their mission was especially chancy, and Air Marshal Leigh-Mallory had predicted a disaster for the airborne troops. Ike disagreed. But it was no accident that on the night before the invasion he took a short drive north from Portsmouth to visit the 101st Airborne Division. Disappointed as usual by not finding any paratroopers from Kansas, he nevertheless chatted with the men and their officers in a casual manner that gave no clue to the anxiety churning his stomach. He told General Marshall that “the light of battle was in their eyes.” After spending the day with his own eyes on the weather, he finally went to bed after midnight and awaited the great event.70
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