Eisenhower in War and Peace

by Jean Edward Smith

  “Don’t scare the Navy, George,” Marshall cautioned, “they are already afraid of you.”70

  The center task force, thirty-nine thousand troops commanded by Major General Lloyd Fredendall, would land at three sites near the Algerian port of Oran, capture the city in a pincer movement, and secure the port and airfield. Eisenhower had wanted the center task force commanded by Major General Russell (“Scrappy”) Hartle, an old friend who commanded V Corps in Northern Ireland, but Marshall objected. Rarely did the chief of staff question a theater commander’s judgment pertaining to personnel. But in this instance he asked Ike to consider Clark or “practically anyone you name” from a list of eight corps commanders Marshall provided rather than Hartle.71 At Clark’s suggestion, Eisenhower chose fifty-nine-year-old Lloyd Fredendall, known throughout the service as one of Marshall’s men. Anglophobic, short-tempered, “unencumbered with charisma” in the words of historian Rick Atkinson, Fredendall enjoyed a reputation as an effective trainer of troops but would soon prove a military disaster. Both Marshall and Eisenhower can be faulted: Marshall for pushing someone utterly unfit for combat command, and Eisenhower for selecting someone he did not know.i

  Both the western and center task forces were composed entirely of American troops. The eastern task force, which was to take Algiers, consisted of twenty-eight thousand British and thirteen thousand American troops. The initial assault would be commanded by Major General Charles “Doc” Ryder, Ike’s West Point classmate. After the city was secure, command would revert to British lieutenant general Sir Kenneth Anderson, a dour Scot whose American code name was GROUCH. (The British called him “Sunshine.”) Blunt to the point of rudeness, Anderson was an aggressive commander who led his men with the rugged determination of a Highland Scot. “He was not a popular type,” said Eisenhower, “but I had real respect for his fighting heart.”72

  The eastern and center task forces sailed from the Firth of Clyde on October 26, 1942, under the command of Admiral Sir Andrew Cunningham, who subsequently became Eisenhower’s naval commander in chief, and in 1943 succeeded Sir Dudley Pound as Britain’s first sea lord. Ike called Cunningham a real sea dog—an admiral in the mode of Nelson who “believed that ships went to sea in order to find and destroy the enemy.”73 j

  A week before the invasion fleet sailed, Eisenhower went to Scotland to inspect the training of the 1st Division, the Army’s Big Red One. Butcher, Mickey, and Kay went with him. Kay remembered that Ike’s private railroad car, the Bayonet, was quite plush. It was paneled in teak and had a private office, sleeping quarters, and a sitting room. She and Eisenhower worked awhile, then played bridge and napped.74

  Ike remained in Scotland for three days, and his visit was a tonic for the troops’ morale. But he departed downcast and disappointed. “We are short on experience and trained leadership below battalion commander,” he informed Marshall. The troops “did not know exactly what was expected of them.” Privately, Ike said, “They’ll be sitting ducks if they don’t sharpen up.”75

  Back in London, Eisenhower asked Kay Summersby whether she would like to accompany him to North Africa—an assignment far removed from the Motor Transport Corps.

  “I’d give anything to go,” Summersby replied.

  “It’s settled then. You’ll be following us. It will probably be a month or so before the situation is stabilized. And Kay, you don’t have to be told this is top secret. Not a word to anyone.”76

  Before leaving, Eisenhower paid a farewell courtesy call on King George VI at Buckingham Palace. Clark accompanied him. “Didn’t you get stranded on the beach without your pants?” the King asked Clark.77 Eisenhower had worried about the protocol requirement that he not turn his back on the King when leaving. “It was no problem,” said Ike. “He came right to the door with us.”78

  Eisenhower was now upbeat. “Everything for TORCH is well in hand,” he told Marshall on October 29. “I fear nothing except bad weather and possibly large losses to submarines. Given a fair break in these two matters, you may rest assured that the entry will go as planned.”79

  On the last day of October, Ike hosted a farewell dinner at Telegraph Cottage for his family: Butcher, Clark, Davis, Beetle, and Kay. “The eve of battle is an eerie time,” Summersby remembered. “There were a few toasts drunk to a successful operation, but no one felt like talking. We did not even play bridge, but simply sat around the living room making remarks now and then, almost like courteous strangers in a waiting room.”80 k

  The following day, Robert Murphy threw a spanner in the works (as the British would say). With the invasion armadas already on the high seas, he radioed Ike asking that the landings be postponed for two weeks. General Giraud, it seems, was unable to leave home until November 20, 1942. Eisenhower exploded. “It is inconceivable that [Murphy] can recommend such a delay,” he cabled Marshall. “Recommend the President advise [Murphy] immediately that his suggested action is utterly impossible.”81 Roosevelt, who was spending the weekend at Hyde Park, wasted no time. “I fully concur in General Eisenhower’s recommendation,” he told Marshall. “Please inform him to that effect at once.”82 The invasion was on.

  To screen Eisenhower’s departure from London, the Army devised the cover story that he was returning to Washington for consultation. The story was widely circulated and Mamie made preparations to receive her husband at their apartment. To maintain security, there was no way Eisenhower could inform her that he would not be coming. Being in transit and headed for battle, there was also no way for him to know when he could write next. His final act in London was to send his wife a postdated letter. “By the time you read this your newspapers will probably have told you where I am and you will understand why your birthday letter had to be written some time in advance.” Mamie’s forty-sixth birthday was November 14, 1942.

  “I’d like to be there to help you celebrate, and to kiss you 46 times (multiplied by any number you care to pick). I will be thinking with the deepest gratitude of the many happy hours and years you have given me.… I’ve never wanted any other wife—you’re mine, and for that reason I’ve been luckier than any other man.”83

  * * *

  a In a curious coincidence, FDR retained all of Eleanor’s letters to him, but ER destroyed Franklin’s to her, finding his youthful avowals of love too painful to reread. To judge from Ike’s replies to Mamie, it would appear that she often raised questions he also preferred to forget. Jean Edward Smith, FDR 37 (New York: Random House, 2007).

  b Spaatz’s plane, the Question Mark, was crewed by Captain Ira Eaker, Lieutenant Elwood Quesada, and Lieutenant Harry Halverson. Eaker succeeded Spaatz as commander of Eighth Air Force in December 1942; Quesada commanded the Tactical Air Command and in 1959 was appointed by President Eisenhower to be the first head of the Federal Aviation Administration; and Halverson led the great bombing raid on the Ploesti oil fields in Romania.

  c The second occasion in which the president asserted his authority was in March 1943, when FDR gave Admiral King a direct order to transfer sixty B-24 Liberator bombers from the Pacific theater to the Atlantic to combat German U-boats. Until that time, the Navy had resisted the transfer and the U-boats had gone largely unchallenged. After the transfer, the Battle of the Atlantic was quickly won. FDR to COMINCH [King], March 18, 1943, FDRL. Also see David Kennedy, Freedom from Fear 589 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1999); John Keegan, The Second World War 120 (New York: Viking, 1989).

  d Probably a red herring. As Marshall’s official biographer wrote: “On no other issue did the Secretary of War and the Chief of Staff differ so completely with the Commander-in-Chief. Their distrust of his military judgment, their doubts about the Prime Minister’s advice, and their deep conviction that TORCH was fundamentally unsound persisted throughout August. With the same kind of tenacity that Churchill used in 1944 in the hope of scuttling the landings in Southern France, they continued by a fine splitting of hairs to insist that the final decision for TORCH had yet to be made.” Pogue, 2 Marshall
349.

  e The election was a disaster for the Democrats, who lost eight seats in the Senate and fifty in the House, reducing their majorities to twenty-one and ten respectively.

  f At a time when smoking was more common, it was considered impermissible to light one’s cigarette at the table before the toast to the Crown, usually rendered close to the end of the meal. As a young American professor at the University of Toronto in the early 1960s, I was introduced to the custom, which I considered a quaint relic of colonialism. For Eisenhower, who was a nicotine addict, the rule was oppressive, and when hosts learned of his habit, the toast to the Crown was regularly given after the first course was served.

  g After August 1940, Vichy France became a one-party state. Labor unions were dissolved, free secondary education was abolished, divorce was made more difficult, and married women were denied employment in the public sector. The Jewish Statutes of October 1940 and June 1941 excluded Jews from the civil service and most professions. A Commissariat Général aux Questions Juives was established to enforce anti-Jewish regulations. Thousands of Jews were deported to Nazi concentration camps, and all Jews were persecuted.

  Roosevelt’s approval of the Pétain government, like his order to evacuate Japanese Americans from their homes along the Pacific coast, and arguably his failure to disrupt German concentration camps, reveals a side of the president’s personality that is difficult to explain. Jean Edward Smith, FDR 549–53, 610–13. Also see Michael R. Marrus and Robert O. Paxton, Vichy France and the Jews 121–76 (New York: Basic Books, 1981); Robert O. Paxton, Vichy France: Old Guard and New Order, 1940–1944 51–233 (New York: Knopf, 1972); and David Thomson, Democracy in France Since 1870 222–24 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1964).

  h For the genesis of the Giraud gambit, involving Murphy, H. Freeman Matthews, and various operatives of the Office of Strategic Services (forerunner of the CIA), see William L. Langer, Our Vichy Gamble 276–85, 305–35 (New York: Knopf, 1947).

  i “My original selection of General Hartle for the Center Task Force was based upon the conviction that he would do a workmanlike job,” Eisenhower cabled Marshall on October 3, 1942. “As agreed in subsequent telegrams, I am substituting Fredendall for him and will leave Hartle here in London as my deputy.” DDE, 1 War Years 590–92.

  j In late 1943, Eisenhower asked Cunningham to send the British battle fleet, carrying a division of soldiers, into Italy’s Taranto harbor, known to be saturated with mines and other underwater obstacles—an extremely hazardous undertaking that many naval commanders would have avoided. “Sir,” replied Cunningham, “His Majesty’s Fleet is here to go wherever you may send it.” DDE, Crusade in Europe 89.

  k Butcher, in recording the dinner in his diary, neglected to include Summersby when listing those present. Harry C. Butcher, My Three Years with Eisenhower: The Personal Diary of Captain Harry C. Butcher, USNR, Naval Aide to General Eisenhower, 1942 to 1945 160 (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1946).

  TEN

  Baptism by Fire

  At any moment, it is possible that a necessity might arise for my relief and consequent demotion.

  —DWIGHT D. EISENHOWER,

  February 19, 1943

  Eisenhower arrived on Gibraltar on November 5, 1942. “All of us are well,” he cabled Beetle Smith, “although I must say that the trip by bomber is not something to be taken on your honeymoon.… Please find out from Kay how Telek is and include a short statement in any American message to me—such as Telek O.K. or Telek very sick, or whatever is applicable. I am quite anxious about the little black imp!”1 a

  The Rock of Gibraltar, three square miles of Jurassic limestone, a British colony since 1704, was the only territory on the continent of Europe still occupied by the Western Allies. Until the troops were safely ashore in North Africa, it became the temporary headquarters of the supreme commander. Ike and his staff had flown eight hours from London in five B-17 Flying Fortresses, often through execrable weather, at an average altitude of five hundred feet to evade enemy fighters. As the formation approached the Rock, Major Paul Tibbets, Eisenhower’s pilot, said, “This is the first time I’ve ever had to climb to get into the landing pattern.”2 (Tibbets, who was widely regarded as one of the nation’s most accomplished pilots, later flew the Enola Gay, which dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima.)

  Gibraltar had all the earmarks of a beleaguered fortress. Honeycombed with thirty miles of tunnels, the surface crosshatched with water catchment ditches running into underground cisterns, and with an airfield capable of holding six hundred planes, wingtip to wingtip, the Rock would not only provide air cover for the landings, but also afforded Ike a command center from which to communicate with the task forces. Supreme headquarters was six hundred feet deep inside the Rock, ventilated by a few ineffective fans of unknown vintage, dimly lit, rodent infested, and constantly damp from condensation dripping from the ceiling. Eisenhower referred to the setting as “the most dismal we occupied during the war.”3

  To make matters worse, General Henri Giraud, who had been spirited out of France by Murphy’s operatives, arrived on Gibraltar on the afternoon of November 7, ready to assume overall command of the invasion. Murphy, it appears, had assured Giraud that if he would put himself at the disposal of the Allies, he would supersede Eisenhower as supreme commander. The unhappy task of disillusioning the general fell to Ike, who called it “my most distressing interview of the war.”4

  For four hours, Eisenhower and Giraud had at it. “I could understand General Giraud’s French fairly well,” Ike recalled, “but I insisted on using an interpreter to avoid any chance of misunderstanding.”5 After the first hour, they were reduced to repeating themselves. Giraud reminded Eisenhower that he was a four-star general and Ike only a three-star. Eisenhower assured Giraud that the Allies were eager for him to assume command of the French forces in North Africa and to head civil affairs for the region, but that anything else was out of the question. Giraud saw no point in landing in North Africa, and insisted the troops should be redirected to land in southern France. He also said that since they would be fighting on French soil, he could not possibly subordinate himself to the Combined Chiefs of Staff.6 With all the delicacy he could muster, Eisenhower explained why Giraud’s demands were impossible. Giraud was unmoved. When they broke for dinner—Giraud at Government House, Ike at the British admiralty mess—Giraud told Eisenhower: “General Giraud cannot accept a subordinate position in this command. His countrymen would not understand and his honor as a soldier would be tarnished.”7 Like Charles de Gaulle and Douglas MacArthur, Giraud habitually referred to himself in the third person.

  During the dinner break, Eisenhower consulted with his diplomatic advisers, H. Freeman Matthews from the State Department and William H. B. Mack of the British Foreign Office. They suggested placing Giraud in nominal command, with Eisenhower retaining operational control as Giraud’s deputy. Eisenhower rejected the proposal.8 Mark Clark and Admiral Cunningham agreed. Cunningham called Giraud’s demands “preposterous and unreasonable.”9

  When the meeting resumed at 10:30 p.m., Giraud remained adamant. After two unproductive hours the discussions broke off. “Giraud will be a spectator in this affair,” the French general announced with a shrug.10 Eisenhower bid him good night, and then informed Marshall he thought Giraud was playing for time. “He realizes that he can do nothing with respect to the landing itself and can gain no credit for it, no matter how successful. Consequently he is choosing to wait to see what happens. If we are generally successful tonight, I will not be surprised to find him more conciliatory tomorrow.”11 b Marshall replied that Ike had been absolutely correct in the stance he took. “Our only regret is that you have been forced to devote so much of your time to this purpose.”12

  Shortly after 2 a.m. on November 8, 1942, the troops of the western (Patton), center (Fredendall), and eastern (Ryder) task forces debarked from their transports and headed toward the North African shoreline for a hazardous night landing. The surf on th
e Moroccan coast was unprecedentedly benign (less than four feet), and Patton’s men got ashore with no more than the usual number of mishaps. Fredendall’s troops misread their maps and landed four miles off target, but for the most part the initial phase of TORCH went as planned. “Information from the task forces is meager,” Ike reported to Marshall at 9:30 a.m., “but we do know that we are fairly solidly ashore at eastern and central points and that western attack began as scheduled.”13

  As the troops made their way inland, the fighting intensified. The French were standing their ground. The battle was heaviest at the ports of Algiers and Oran. In the port of Algiers, French coastal batteries sunk an American destroyer, and there was fierce fighting in the harbor itself. At Oran, the planned pincer movement failed to materialize. The airfield and port remained in French hands, and two British destroyers were sunk by naval gunfire. The stubborn resistance of the French, combined with the slowness of inexperienced troops coming under fire for the first time, created increasing anxiety at Eisenhower’s headquarters.14 That anxiety was intensified by the lack of information from Patton in Morocco. Gibraltar had lost radio contact with the western task force, and the last information indicated that a ferocious battle had been joined all along the line.15

  Isolated from the fighting, and with no ability to influence the outcome, Eisenhower became introspective. At the Wilderness, Grant had passed the time whittling sticks. Eisenhower chose to put his thoughts on paper. “Worries of a Commander,” he scribbled at the top of a sheet of government-issue foolscap. In short order, Ike ticked off ten potential problems: Spain was ominously quiet; Giraud was difficult to deal with; Giraud wanted planes; Giraud was impossible.