“Mister Hopkins, we want a Mediterranean strategy—I want such a strategy, and the British Empire answers to my thinking on this matter. Gibraltar must be retaken, and the Eastern Med reopened.”
“Sir, I realize you’ve a fondness for your position at Gibraltar. Yes, I heard your speech after it was surrendered—we are the Rock. But give Marshall a little credit. If we hit them hard enough, we would be cutting all German positions to the south off at the trunk.”
“But we won’t be hitting them hard enough,” said Churchill. “Five Brigades? That might make a nice raid, but it will not establish a secure lodgment on the continent.”
“Well Our General Marshall would beg to differ sir, with all due respect.”
“Marshall? He has no grasp of the real realities of war. The man has never had command of troops on the ground—not so much as a single platoon! He’s an administrator, not a strategist.”
“He making this same argument to your General Brooke even as we speak,” said Hopkins.
“Is he?” Churchill shook his head. “Then Brooke will report that to me, whereupon I will reject it outright, and with extreme prejudice. You see? Your General should be here, with me, not speaking to Brooke in London.”
* * *
Hopkins was entirely correct in what he said, for miles away, Marshall was indeed meeting with Brooke, and when he got immediate resistance to the Sledgehammer plan again, he shifted the ball, leaned to one side and made his dodge.
“Why not make it a raid?” he suggested.
“What good would that do us?” said Brooke. “Yes, it might deny the Germans the use of a port for some time, but it would be of little strategic value. All it would do is prompt the Germans to improve their defenses, and eliminate the value of surprise for future operations aimed at establishing a real lodgment on the continent.”
“Well isn’t that the general idea, to get the Germans to send troops from Russia to the West? Things are very uncertain in Russia. Consider what would happen if we lost the Soviets.”
“Believe me, we’ve taken a full appreciation of that, yet it cannot result in our putting forward operations that are doomed to fail. No. If we do land, then we must do so with the intention of staying, and carrying the fight deeper into Europe. The Prime Minister is in full agreement with that.”
That was the real British deal killer. They would insist the landings be permanent, and then argue that the existing American plans were inadequate, premature, and doomed to fail. The Second plan, code named ROUNDUP, was to delay the attack until the spring or summer of 1943. To this Brooke conceded that they would take a harder look if that were to be the case, but SLEDGEHAMMER in 1942 could not be supported.
“The Germans will have the advantage,” he said. “They could reinforce against such a landing three times faster than we could get troops ashore, and bottle us up without transferring a single division from the East Front. This plan isn’t a sledgehammer, General Marshall, it’s barely a tack hammer.”
Frustrated with all of this, Marshall tried to then advocate a Japan First strategy. If the British would not cooperate, he’d take his football and go elsewhere. He boldly proposed that the BOLERO troop buildup be diverted to the Pacific, all but two divisions, and of 53 air squadrons of various stripes, he would allocate 40 against the Japanese as well. His foil there was not Brooke or the British, but President Roosevelt himself. The President flatly stated that he wanted a Germany First strategy, and that some accommodation had to be reached with the British to get US forces in action in 1942. Period.
Brooke was aware of all of this, and so when Marshall continued to argue, he hit him right on the chin with it. “My good General Marshall, are you taking upon yourself the mantle of command? It is our understanding that your President Roosevelt lays down strategy, and his Generals carry out his wishes. That is how things are here, and Our Prime Minister has a firm understanding with your Mister Roosevelt as to the necessity of Germany First strategy in this war—please don’t forget that.”
“Well hells bells, General. What are we going to do then? The Japanese hit us last December, and we wasted half the year with nothing to show for it. We’re fighting in the Pacific, that’s for sure, but over here all you’ve done is take back a few hundred kilometers of useless desert. We’ve got to do something this year. You can’t win this war on the defensive.”
“We agree entirely, and we have a plan—this year, and to do some very great things.”
Those great things would be dreamt up in an operation that frustrated planners turned to for lack of anything else to do—then called Operation GYMNAST. It would involve an American landing at Casablanca, with the intention of denying that port to the Franco-German navy and cutting off their forward support base for their operation in the Canaries. In Fedorov’s history, the British wanted to expand this with further landings at Oran and other Algerian ports, but that would be impossible now. That was “SUPER-GYMNAST” in the original history. This time it would take a new face, and get back an old name.
“We’ve got to get back Gibraltar,” said Brooke. “The Germans are sitting there with warships, Stukas and fighters on the airfield, shore batteries, minefields, and a warren of U-boats. They’ve completely sealed off the straits, and closed all access to the Mediterranean from the Atlantic. The problem is that Gibraltar is simply not assailable from the sea, at least not directly. It will have to be taken from the landward side, possibly with the cooperation of airborne forces, just as the Germans did when they stole the place from us.”
“That means a landing on the Spanish coast,” said Marshall, “and that opens a very smelly can of political worms.”
“That it does, but considering that Franco has already given aid and comfort to the enemy, we mustn’t be squeamish. He’s already quite perturbed with our position in the Canary Islands. The Prime Minister has authorized us to look at the Spanish coast as a hostile shore, and treat it accordingly.”
“Then where would we land?”
“There are excellent beaches north and south of Cadiz, but they would be too close to German airfields at Gibraltar and Tangier. So we’re looking farther north.”
Marshall squinted at the map. “How far north? You can’t mean the northern coast of Spain.”
“No, that would be out of the question. But this area here seems promising.” He handed Marshall a map.
“What? Lisbon? Portugal is a neutral state.”
“At the moment….”
Marshall could easily read British intentions there. “You mean to say they might join us?”
“That, or be forced to fight alongside Spain and France, and pay the consequences. Now, we’ve looked at the matter over and over, and Lisbon is the only landing site suitable for our armor. So here’s the plan. There’s limited shipping, so we’ll go first and move into Portugal. The transports will race back to England, and then your boys mount an operation at Casablanca. We’ll land 6th Armored at Lisbon, hopefully unopposed. The infantry can come in there or at Lagos further south. We’ll rally the Portuguese to our banners as we swing down through Seville, Cadiz, and come at Gibraltar from the north. You storm ashore at Casablanca, cut off the German supply center at Marrakesh, swing up and take Fez, and then drive right up to take Tangier. This will clear both sides of the straits at the same time, and kick the door to the Med right open. Once that is accomplished, your boys will be in a very good position to drive east to Oran, and we can assist by mounting a seaborne assault on that place from Gibraltar—again, a two pronged attack.”
“East to Oran? General, look at your map! Those are the Atlas Mountains. The terrain in northern Morocco is some of the worst ground in North Africa. There’s one road on the coast and the rest is probably all goat trails in that highland.”
“You can go right around those mountains, right through Fez, up to Taza, and then the ground opens up considerably?”
“But it looks to be nearly 500 miles from Fez to Oran by that route.”
/>
“More like 450.”
“That’s a hell of a long supply line for our troops. It could take months for us to get to Oran if we meet stiff opposition.”
“We believe the French will fold very quickly, and don’t forget, we’ll be in the game up north.”
“What about Franco?” Marshall objected. “What about the Spanish Army? What about the Germans?”
“They’ve only a few divisions in Spain at the moment, far fewer than we would have to face in France.”
“But they can reinforce from Southern France.”
Brooke smiled, repeating what Marshall said earlier. “Well, isn’t that the general idea? Let me put it to you this way. The Prime Minister is quite fixated on Gibraltar. We simply must take it back as a prelude to any further operations in the Med.”
“Why operate there at all?” Marshall protested. “Land in France and the whole affair is completely cut off.”
“True, but that simply doesn’t seem possible this year, and SUPER-GYMNAST is possible—quite possible if we take it in stages as I’ve outlined.”
“General, you’ve certainly hoodwinked us on that one. As an alternative, we could simply send several divisions to the Middle East through the Suez. That would satisfy Roosevelt’s desire to get at Hitler this year, if not mine.”
“But to what end? It’s a long slog from Libya to Tangier. Rommel has all that friendly territory to fall back on—unless we take it from him with an operation like the one I’ve just outlined.”
“Yet it’s all a secondary theater. You want to fight Germany, then go for the jugular, right through northern France.”
“Not in our view. This operation gives us a great deal. Taking Casablanca dooms the German position on the Canary Islands, eliminates those enemy airfields and U-boat bases, relieves pressure on the convoy route to Freetown and the Cape, and gives us those bases to further interdict U-boat operations in the Atlantic. That alone is a bucket full. Add to that the return of Gibraltar, elimination of Spain as a hostile adversary, the possibility of knocking the Vichy French right out of the war, along with their formidable navy. We also gain access to the Eastern Med, and that puts us at Rommel’s backside when all is said and done. We can roll on, take French Algeria, and go for Tunis. From there, we’re looking right at Mussolini, and the possibility of mounting operations to knock him out of the war as well.”
“All well and good,” said Marshall, “but it’s the Germans we have to get at in this fight. They’re the ones we have to beat. While we busy ourselves with these operations, what if the Soviets fall?”
“I fully understand, but this year, we’ve only two real alternatives worth mentioning. One is the plan I’ve just outlined, the other is JUPITER, the invasion of Norway. While that would eliminate German bases there and secure the Murmansk convoy route, it’s a very limited operation. We think the southern option holds more promise. If we can knock Spain, France, and Italy out of the war, that would isolate Germans in the West, and while we’re doing that, BOLERO proceeds with the buildup for the main effort against the continent—perhaps next year as you have it in the ROUNDUP plan.”
“A nice bone you’re throwing me,” said Marshall. “But I’m old enough to know there won’t be much meat on it. These operations have a way of pulling in supplies, troops, and shipping. Once we get started down there, we could find it impossible to get to ROUNDUP next year.”
“Well general, not to mix metaphors, but why not play out the first hand before we look at our cards in the second? It comes down to this: you can tell Mister Roosevelt that this is what we want—what we’ll agree to and wholeheartedly support for 1942. At the very least, we must take the Rock, and to do so we will need to control both sides of the Gibraltar Strait. That means we’ll need to also take Casablanca, and make the landings as I described. After that we can revisit this discussion in light of planning for ROUNDUP.”
Chapter 17
“Alright,” said Marshall, “suppose I do tell the President all this. The first question that comes to mind is whether or not the French will fight when we hit the beaches. What is your opinion?”
“Oh, they’ll fight. After Mers el Kebir, Dakar, the big action off Fuerteventura, and that nasty business in Syria and Lebanon, they’ve taken a very hard line against us.”
“Then our landing at Casablanca will be opposed.” Marshall wasn’t happy about that.
“I’m afraid so, and the worst of it will be the French Navy. The Germans have made Casablanca their forward supply base for the Canary Islands. They’re shuttling convoys back and forth, largely protected by the French Navy, and that new German aircraft carrier. So if you do come, your navy will have to command the seas off Casablanca to even contemplate a landing there. In that, our own Royal Navy will be fully committed to support your operation. We hope our own landing at Lisbon will be unopposed, and therefore require a much smaller naval escort.”
“Well I’m an Army man, but it seems to me that we should win the battle at sea before the troops take to their transports. Those ships make good targets, and we can’t afford to lose any of the shipping and landing craft we commit to this operation.”
“We certainly agree with that.”
“Is there any way we can get to someone influential over there and see if we can persuade them to a more enlightened course? What about Darlan?”
“He’s firmly in the enemy camp by now.”
“How can you be so sure? If we could convince him to stand down, it would make those landings at Casablanca a little more palatable.”
“General, you are certainly welcome to try, but I very much doubt that Darlan will change his spots this deep into the game.”
“Well who’s next in line over there?”
“Next in line? You mean in the Navy? I suppose Admiral Laborde, or perhaps Admiral Estéva, or even Admiral Gensoul. You’d have better luck with Darlan than Laborde. He has no love for the British, and despises De Gaulle. As for Gensoul, well, he was the French commander at Mers el Kebir, and wouldn’t think to highly of us after that. ”
“Doesn’t sound very hopeful,” said Marshall. “Well then, can we command the seas off Casablanca, and if so, how soon?”
“That is a question I should best put to our Admiral Tovey. I would expect him to meet with your Admiral King to iron the matter out. We’ve achieved a kind of stalemate in the Canaries, so our good Admiral went north to plan the defense of a big convoy to Murmansk. It’s been tooth and nail up there, particularly because the Germans have establish a big new base near Trondheim—Nordstern.”
“Wouldn’t that be within range of your bombers.”
“Quite so, but it’s the German fighters we need to worry about. It’s 750 air miles from Scotland to Trondheim, and we haven’t a fighter that can make that range. So any support for Bomber Command has to come off the few carriers we have. Your Wildcats have helped out a great deal—we call them Martlets now, but at least they can give us a chance against those Bf-109s. A pity we can’t get our Spitfires up there, but we’re working on better sea based fighters, and should have more soon enough.”
“I’m afraid we’ll have a similar problem if we go for Casablanca,” said Marshall. “You may have heard we lost two of our fleet carriers in the Coral Sea.”
“Nasty business there,” said Brooke.
“Yes, well that means we’re down to just three fleet class carriers in the Pacific, and already tangling with the Japanese in the Fiji Island group. General, we have nothing beyond our old carrier Ranger to send for this Casablanca operation, and even keeping that in the Atlantic might be difficult.”
“We’ll do our best to help out, and I believe we can establish air superiority over the landing sites.”
“General,” said Marshall, “I must tell you that we’ve looked this over, as your own people have as well, and many of our analysts give these landings a 40% chance of succeeding—at best.”
“Yes, between the French Navy, the German ar
my, and the high surf conditions, our own people agree. But where else can we go, general Marshall?”
“How about the Pas de Calais.” Marshall tried one more time, but he ended with a wry grin. “Very well, I’ll discuss this with President Roosevelt, and I expect he’ll make the final decision. But I must tell you, I can’t give it much of an endorsement. That said, I’ll support the plan if the President directs me to do so, and in that you can count on us doing anything possible to make it work.”
“General, that is all we could possibly hope for. It’s all risky business. That’s the nature of war, but we have to start the road back somewhere, and these are objectives worth fighting for. We simply can’t sit idle throughout the remainder of this year. We’ve promised Sergei Kirov we would do everything possible to open a Second Front, and so we need to look at this whole affair with that in mind.”
“Very well,” Marshall conceded, but he did have one further bone to chew. “The president is concerned about command control in a joint operation like this. Even though our forces will be widely separated at the outset, eventually they’ll need to be well coordinated. Now I know you people have carried the ball for three years while we sat on the sidelines, but he’s asking for an American General in overall command.”
“Will that be a sticking point?”
“Very likely.”
“Alright then. This issue has been under consideration for some time, and we’ve agreed to that—even suggested it. I’ve heard several names bandied about. Perhaps you ought to take charge.”
Marshall smiled. “Another bone, General Brooke? No thank you. I’m well aware of what the Prime thinks of me, and what you may think of me as well. I’ve been told you suggested General MacArthur should be in command of our Joint Chiefs, so spare me the flattery. We have another man in mind, General Eisenhower.”
* * *
Whether Marshall could see it or not, the Americans were going to land somewhere in 1942, and it would not be France. The man charged with deciding the how and when of it all was one Dwight D. Eisenhower, and the cadre of officers that he would soon command would all cut their teeth in the campaign that would follow, rising to become the captains of battle whose names would ring through the history from that day forward, Eisenhower, George Patton, Omar Bradley, Mark Clark. They would rise, like cream, to the top of the churning vat that America’s war effort would soon become, and on their shoulders would fall the weight of a war that would grow heavier and heavier the longer they carried it.
Second Front (Kirov Series Book 24) Page 14