In a 1948 speech General Brehon Somervell, who commanded Army Services Forces and was responsible for coordinating production with strategy, seconded the production experts’ frustrations. Somervell acknowledged it was impossible to build a realistic production plan without knowing “the size of the forces required, the kind of war you are going to fight, and the possible theaters of operation.” He went on to admit this was impossible because “it was not until after we were well into the war that the size of the forces we expected to employ was determined.” He then admitted that if the United States had possessed a strategy for the war early on “it would have been of immeasurable help in building production plans.39 This not only explains why the military could not answer the production experts’ questions, but also underlines that not even the military paid much attention to Wedemeyer’s strategic formulations. If they had, they could have easily created basic “tables of allowances” from his required ground force estimates and told the production agencies to build from those tables. 40
One other major problem the production experts encountered early in the mobilization deserves mention now. There was great reluctance on the part of those in the military, particularly procurement officers, to ask for much. In the first place, their estimates of requirements to fight a global war were woefully low, but the refusal of most procurement officers to ask for even this bare minimum compounded this difficulty.41 It was neither in their nature nor within America’s military culture to ask Congress for large appropriations. As one historian has noted, “The War Department was to a lamentable extent, cowed by the force of isolationist sentiment on Capitol Hill and was trained to be timid in requests for appropriations.”42 The officers who were the most successful in peacetime were those who Congress identified as economy-minded. Unfortunately, sailors or soldiers who are economy-minded rarely win wars.
In one 1940 example, production czar Donald M. Nelson asked textile manufacturer Robert Stevens to probe around and find out what the Army needed in textiles. Stevens then asked a military procurement officer for an estimate of how many parachutes the Army would require during the war. In due time, he received the answer that nine thousand would suffice, to which Stevens replied he would ask for two hundred thousand. When a procurement officer berated him for his wildly high estimate, Stevens defended his number by saying, “The President wants to build 50,000 planes and they will have an average crew size of four. I simply multiplied.”43 In the event, the United States produced and used almost 10 million parachutes during the war.
According to Robert Sherwood, “Although Secretary of War Stimson and General Marshall were well aware of the urgency; the generals and colonels charged with the implementation of policy were trained to rigidly adhere to established tables of organization.” It was their job to take the number of American soldiers currently authorized by Congress and multiply that by the various items of equipment required. “They had been trained to believe that if they asked for more than the irreducible minimum they would find themselves detailed to instruction in some boy’s military academy in South Dakota . . . where promotion was apt to be slow.”44
The simple fact was that the military, despite years of planning and having sent hundreds of senior officers to the Industrial Staff College, had absolutely no idea on the eve of war of what the services would need to fight.45 Founded in 1924 “to train Army officers in the useful knowledge pertaining to the supervision of procurement of all military supplies in time of war and to the assurance of adequate provision for the mobilization of materiel and industrial organizations essential to war-time needs,” the Army Industrial College had graduated more than one thousand officers by 1941, few of whom were actually prepared to assist in mobilizing industry for total war. For almost the entire period from 1924 to 1941 the school had focused its students on learning and refining the Industrial Mobilization Plan (IMP), which would have placed the military in charge of all production (including civilian production). When Roosevelt scrapped the IMP and placed the military in a secondary role behind the civilian production agencies, the Industrial College cadres became bewildered and ineffective. Worse still, anyone who might have had any inclination of what was required was too afraid to ask for it. In the event, Wedemeyer’s work did nothing to enlighten them. That guidance had to come from other sources.
CHAPTER 3
The Real Victory Program
If the Wedemeyer Plan did not determine or predict the future strategic direction or production priorities of the United States, what did? The answer lies in two parts. The first is the military dimension that rested almost entirely on a memorandum written by Chief of Naval Operations Admiral Harold R. Stark. This memorandum later became the basis of a joint memorandum (signed by Admiral Stark and General Marshall) to the president. From a historical point of view, this study is noteworthy in two respects: it was the only strategic guidance the president kept in his office, and it is rarely mentioned in the U.S. Army’s official histories of the war.1 However, there was one exception: someone commented, “Admiral Stark’s document constitutes perhaps the most important single document in the development of World War II strategy.” 2
The second key portion of the actual Victory Plan was an economic spreadsheet prepared by Stacy May, a statistician on the War Production Board (WPB). Though a number of other people played a role in May’s formulations, he was the driving force behind the creation of a combined “balance sheet,” which then became the basis of all early production planning for the war. In fact, two British economic historians have gone so far as to argue that May’s work was the cardinal concept of the real Victory Program.3
Plan Dog
Prior to the outbreak of World War II, the code name for America’s strategy for a future war was “Plan Orange.”4 This plan, worked out over decades, basically identified Japan as America’s primary future enemy and called for the United States to send its fleet across the Pacific to seek a decisive naval engagement with the Imperial Japanese Navy at the earliest possible date. In 1940, Admiral Stark became convinced that both assumptions were wrong: Japan was not America’s most dangerous enemy, and America’s entire concept of how to fight a future war was off the mark.
In a single day, working alone in his study, Stark created the outline for a new strategic plan. Afterwards, during the last week in October, he met with key naval staff members for several hours a day to discuss his concepts.5 By 2 November 1940 he had sufficiently satisfied himself with the concept to produce a draft memorandum, which he forwarded to Marshall for the Army chief of staff’s review and concurrence before presenting it to the secretary of the Navy.6
It is easy to see why Marshall immediately concurred with Stark: the central point of Admiral Stark’s analysis was the recognition that American security depended to a large extent on the fate of Great Britain. Stark’s opening assertion, “if Britain wins decisively against Germany we could win everywhere; but that if she loses the problems confronting us would be very great; and while we might not lose everywhere, we might, possibly, not win anywhere” (emphasis in original), directly coincided with Marshall’s strategic formulations.7 Should the British Empire collapse, it seemed probable to Stark that the victorious Axis powers would seek to expand their control—economically at first and then politically and militarily—into the Western Hemisphere. For Stark, the consequences of a British defeat were so serious for the United States that he declared Britain ought to be assisted in every way possible. Stark also made it clear that he did not believe Britain had the manpower or materiel to conquer Germany, and that U.S. assistance would be required for ultimate victory.8
In a passage certain to endear his analysis to Marshall, Stark declared, “The only certain way of defeating Germany is by military success on shore; for that, bases close to the European continent would be required.9 Although most mentions of Plan Dog in the historical record claim that plan was formulated by Stark in relative isolation, Guyer claims that Admiral Stark and General Marshall
had “long and continuous consultations concerning national defense policy plans and preparations.”10 Guyer goes on to say that Marshall agreed with the conclusions of the Stark memorandum, and had emphatically expressed these same concepts in a June 1940 meeting, concerning the dangers that would result for the United States from a German-Italian victory in the invasion of France. During this meeting, Marshall also posed a question of the grand strategy: How would the United States meet simultaneous threats in both the Atlantic and the Pacific? He then answered his own question: “Are we not forced into reframing our naval policy, into one that is purely defensive in the Pacific, with the main effort in the Atlantic?”11
As for Japan, Stark also placed it on the second tier of enemies and thereby reversed decades of Navy assumptions and planning.12 The Navy’s Orange Plan had contemplated the eventual economic starvation of Japan, followed by the complete destruction of that country’s military power. The Navy assumed that Plan Orange would require several years, and would absorb the full military, naval, and economic energy of the American people. In his Plan Dog memorandum, Stark claimed that this focus was no longer feasible. As Stark saw it, because the need to send large forces to Britain required major naval efforts in the Atlantic, few resources remained for employment in the Pacific, where the United States would remain on a strict defensive.13
As Stark saw it, America had to choose between four major strategic options, which he stated as questions:a. Shall our principal military effort be directed toward hemisphere defense, and include chiefly those activities within the Western Hemisphere which contribute directly to security against attack in either or both oceans?
b. Shall we prepare for a full offensive against Japan, premised on assistance from the British and Dutch forces in the Far East, and remain on the strict defensive in the Atlantic?
c. Shall we plan for sending the strongest possible military assistance both to the British in Europe, and to the British, Dutch and Chinese in the Far East?
d. Shall we direct our efforts toward an eventual strong offensive in the Atlantic as an ally of the British, and a defensive in the Pacific?14
As far as Admiral Stark was concerned, there was no doubt that “Option D” was superior to the others (“Option D” is what gave the plan its name—“Dog” being the letter D in American military parlance).15 As he further argued, “I believe that the continued existence of the British Empire, combined with building up a strong protection in our home areas, will do most to ensure the status quo in the Western Hemisphere, and to promote our principal national interests.”16
On 12 November 1940 Admiral Stark forwarded the plan, with Marshall’s concurrence, to Frank Knox, secretary of the Navy, who immediately forwarded it to the White House. There is no record that Roosevelt ever approved the plan, but from Marshall’s and Stark’s perspectives it was just as important that the president did not disapprove it. Although Roosevelt, Stimson, Knox, and Secretary of State Cordell Hull were never called on formally to approve Stark’s and Marshall’s proposals, which were adopted by the joint board as a basis for redefining national defense policy and strategy, “the Secretaries of War and the Navy were in full agreement with the proposals, while tacit approval was given by the President.”17 Knowing that Roosevelt had just won an election by promising to stay out of the war, both officers realized he could not officially comment on the memorandum. However, knowing that the president was never slow to demolish an idea he did not favor, the two took his silence as tacit approval.18
When the first plenary session of American-British-Canadian (ABC) staff talks got under way on 29 January 1941, Plan Dog became the basis of agreement, essentially restated as ABC-1.19 This agreement, later integrated into the Navy and Joint Rainbow 5 Plan, placed Germany at the center of Allied efforts and became the foundation stone for subsequent discussions about strategy during the war.20
The Production Victory Program
Although by early 1941 the United States had cast a new strategic conception of how it would fight a future global war, the planners had yet to match that strategy against national resources and capabilities. In reaction to the production chiefs’ continuous requests for guidance from the military planners, on 9 July 1941 the president wrote letters to Secretary of War Stimson and Secretary of the Navy Knox ordering them to, “Explore the munitions and mechanical equipment of all types which in your opinion would be required to exceed by an appropriate amount that available to our potential enemies.” Roosevelt further directed that both departments establish munitions objectives that could be used to determine “the industrial capacity which this nation will require.”21
In no uncertain terms, Roosevelt had just asked the war secretaries for a munitions Victory Program. For the first time he had gone beyond asking what it would take to defend the United States, but now asked for assumptions based on an all-out effort in a global war.22 The president’s letter was referred to the Joint Board, and that Board sent a response to the president on 11 September. The response, signed by both Marshall and Stark, was essentially a restatement of Plan Dog: “The Joint Board is convinced that the first major objective of the United States and its Associates ought to be the complete military defeat of Germany. If Germany were defeated, her entire European system would collapse, and it is probable that Japan could be forced to give up much of her territorial gains, unless she had already firmly established herself in such strength that the United States and its Associates could not afford the energy to continue the war against her.”23
This report was supposed to include two annexes laying out the production estimates of the Navy and the Army. Unfortunately, the one complete copy of the report available has only the Navy estimate included.24 This estimate is actually close to what the United States produced in terms of combat ships, though it misses the mark considerably in terms of the requirements for the merchant marine and landing craft. The accuracy of the combat ship estimates reflected the fact that the Navy was working with a friendly Congress and a president who had formerly been an assistant secretary of the Navy. Unlike the Army, Congress approved the Navy’s shipbuilding program, which included appropriations, on a multiyear basis. This removed the guesswork from the Navy estimates because its shipbuilding program had the effect of law. This was to have serious ramifications later when the entire production program was found to be unfeasible. The Navy never had to take its fair share of the cuts because Congress had approved its programs.
The Army’s production and manpower requirements were not included, but according to one source they mainly consisted of estimates of what the Army required to reinforce the Philippines and what the Army required for immediate hemispheric defense.25 Apparently, the Army staff was unwilling at this point to defend its previously delivered estimates assembled by Colonel Burns and Colonel Aurand.26 As we have seen, Wedemeyer’s force predictions were impractical, and their impracticability was compounded by the fact that G-4 personnel were unable to convert their tables of allowances” into production requirements.27 In reality though, the White House, and particularly presidential adviser Harry Hopkins, refused to pay much attention to production estimates coming from the military, with one exception: those of Colonel James Burns.
Time magazine described Burns as Harry Hopkins’munitions workhorse—a man who knew more about the materiel and munitions needs of the Allied powers than did anyone in Washington.28 In 1941 he was a fifty-five-year-old congenial Irishman who seemed to know and get along with everyone. Later promoted to general, he would direct all Army munitions production and distribution throughout the war. In 1941 he was Hopkins’ de facto executive officer as well as the soldier to whom Hopkins would most likely turn for advice on production recommendations and capabilities.
Long before Wedemeyer supposedly began toiling on his estimates, Burns was making his own tabulations. As early as 1938 Burns had been working on estimates of what the time lag would be from the moment a decision was made to build a 1 million- or 2 million�
�person Army until industry could reasonably equip such a force.29 This work, plus his selection to represent the Army on the Office of Production Management’s (OPM’s) Planning Committee (which also included close presidential adviser and friend Harry Hopkins), provided Burns with a greater familiarity with the capabilities of American industry than did any other officer in the War Department.30 Thus, in response to a plea from William S. Knudsen—Donald Nelson’s predecessor as the chief coordinator of U.S. production—for more detailed knowledge of the Army’s requirements, Burns went to work in the spring and summer of 1941 to provide a rough outline of requirements. Burns also prompted G-4 to begin its own work in this area, which accounts for Colonel Aurand’s remarkably quick turnaround on his portion of the Victory Program. Knudsen had earlier told the secretary of war he had two critical questions that required immediate answers: “How much munitions productive capacity does the country need and how rapidly must it become available?”31
Drawing on his two years of familiarity with the question, Burns took little time in producing his estimates. Though rough in outline, the secretary of war signed off on Burns’ program and had it delivered to Knudsen.32 Through Hopkins, it soon made its way to the president and became the first firm statement of long-range Army objectives. It also became the basis for planning by the OPM and industrialists and was the underlying basis of the numbers presented by Colonel Aurand in his portion of the Victory Program, “Ultimate Munitions Production Essential to the Safety of America.” Its key points are outlined in the following chart.33
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