THE MINIMUM OBJECTIVE OF THE NORTH AFRICAN invasion was to seize the main ports between Casablanca and Algiers, denying their use to the Axis as bases for submarines, and from them to operate eastward toward the British desert forces. The successful action of the first few days assured attainment of the minimum object and we immediately turned all our attention to the greater mission assigned us of co-operating with General Sir Harold R. L. G. Alexander’s forces, then twelve hundred miles away at the opposite end of the Mediterranean. Between us we would destroy all Axis forces in northern Africa and reopen the sea for the use of Allied shipping.
On October 23, in Egypt, General Alexander had launched the British Eighth Army, under General Sir Bernard L. Montgomery, in an assault on the enemy lines at El Alamein,1 and within two weeks the enemy was in headlong flight to the westward, hotly pursued by the victorious British. If we could advance to the Axis line of communications we could assure that the brilliant tactical victory of the Eighth Army would result in even greater strategic gain.
British air and sea forces based on Egypt and Malta denied the Axis any practicable and dependable line of communications crossing the Mediterranean east of Tripoli.
Our own position, occupying French North Africa west of Bône, imposed a western limit upon the sea areas that the Axis could use. Thus there were available to Hitler and Mussolini only the ports lying between Bône in Tunisia and Tripoli in northwest Libya, from which to support Rommel. Every advance by the Allies from either flank would tend to squeeze the Axis channel of supplies and with continuation of this process eventual strangulation would result.
The air power of the Axis in Sicily, Pantelleria, and southern Italy was still so strong as to preclude the possibility of Allied naval advance into that region; final success in cutting the Axis communications would demand land advance, with continuous build-up of forward air bases and air power.
By far the most important of the African ports then available to the Axis were Bizerte and Tunis, with the secondary ones of Sfax and Gabès lying farther to the southward. Tripoli itself, while a good enough port, required Axis vessels to pass almost under the guns of Malta, where the British air forces were growing sufficiently strong to inflict severe loss. Obviously, if the ports of Tunis and Bizerte could be taken quickly further reinforcements of the Axis armies in Africa would be almost impossible and their destruction would be expedited.
Our main strategic purpose was, therefore, the speedy capture of northern Tunisia. This guided every move we made—military, economic, political. Through success and disappointment, through every incident and accident, through every difficulty that habitually dogs the footsteps of soldiers in the field, this single objective was constantly held before all eyes, in the certainty that its attainment would constitute the end of the Axis in Africa.
The first move was made in mid-November while we were still in Algiers urging Darlan to order the French to cease fighting our troops and to co-operate with us. General Anderson’s British First Army had been organized for the specific purpose of undertaking the campaign to the eastward, using Algiers as an initial base.2 He was directed to proceed with the operation as planned, and to exert every effort to capture Bizerte and Tunis with the least possible delay. However, he was beset with very great difficulties.
The first of these was the over-all weakness of his force. Lack of shipping had prevented us from bringing along the strength that could have solved the problem quickly and expeditiously. Consequently General Anderson’s plans had to be based upon speed and boldness rather than upon numbers.
The second difficulty was our great shortage in motor equipment,3 which was rendered all the more serious because of the very poor quality of the single-line railway running eastward from Algiers to Tunis, a distance as great as from New York to Cleveland.
The third major problem was the weather. Unseasonable rains soon overtook us, and since none of the scattered air strips that we had hoped to use boasted of a paved runway, our small air forces were handicapped and for days at a stretch were rendered almost completely helpless. The enemy was far better situated, since his large fields at Bizerte and Tunis were suitable for operations in all kinds of weather.
The next disadvantage was the proximity of the Tunisia area to the Axis forces in Sicily and in Italy. The day after we began our landings in northwest Africa the Axis started pouring troops into Tunisia, and they were reinforcing rapidly.
Another initial difficulty was the undetermined attitude of the French forces lying in the area between Constantine and Tunis. These were commanded by General Barre, and at the time General Anderson began his advance it was not known whether these forces and the local population would actively oppose him, would be neutral, or would co-operate with him in his advance toward Tunisia.
Under these conditions only a thoroughly loyal and bold commander would have undertaken without protest the operation that General Anderson was called upon to carry out. In response to my urgent orders he began the campaign on November 11 as soon as he put foot on shore.
Remembering that General Anderson and his troops were almost exclusively British, it has always seemed to me remarkable that he uttered not a single word of protest in accepting this bold order from an American. He was a true ally—and a courageous fighter. From Algiers he started his forces eastward by land and sea and in a series of rapid movements took the ports of Djidjelli, Philippeville, and Bône, at the same time moving farther inland to seize the towns of Sétif and Constantine.4 Axis air and submarine action both took a constant toll of our shipping and caused material damage in the small harbors we were able to seize, but there was never any hesitation on the part of the Navy, under Admiral Cunningham, fully to support the operations, nor on the part of General Anderson to continue his advance in spite of these threats. From the general region of Bône and Constantine the British First Army kept pushing eastward through Souk-Ahras and Souk-el-Arba, where they made the first contacts with Axis ground forces.5
When I transferred headquarters from Gibraltar to Algiers on November 23, I took advantage of the journey to begin inspections of our troops and facilities. At the Oran airfield I came squarely up against conditions that were to plague us throughout that bitter winter. We landed on a hard-surfaced strip but then could not taxi a foot off the runway because of the bottomless mud. A huge tractor appeared and, with men placing great planks under the wheels of our Fortress, pulled us off a few yards so that incoming craft would still be able to land. Tactical operations were at a standstill so I spent the morning inquiring into problems of supply, housing, and food. It was on that occasion that I first met Lieutenant Colonel Lauris Norstad, a young air officer who so impressed me by his alertness, grasp of problems, and personality that I never thereafter lost sight of him. He was and is one of those rare men whose capacity knows no limit.
On arriving at Algiers that evening I found that previously issued orders to support Anderson’s British army with whatever American contingents could be brought up to him from the Oran area were not clearly understood nor vigorously executed. In the office when I arrived was Brigadier General Lunsford E. Oliver, commander of Combat Command B, a portion of the U. S. 1st Armored Division. He had made a reconnaissance to the front, had determined that railway communications were inadequate to get him to the battle area promptly, and was seeking permission to march a part of his command in half-tracks over the seven hundred miles between Oran and Souk-el-Arba. The staff officer to whom he was appealing was well informed as to the characteristics of the half-track and refused permission on the ground that the march would consume half of the useful life of the vehicle!
The young staff officer was not to blame for this extraordinary attitude. He had been trained assiduously, through years of peace, in the eternal need for economy, for avoiding waste. Peacetime training was possible, as he well knew, only when the cost would be inconsequential. He had not yet accepted the essential harshness of war; he did not realize that the word is synonymous with waste, nor did he understand that every positive action requires expenditure. The problem is to determine how, in space and time, to expend assets so as to achieve the maximum in results. When this has been determined, then assets must be spent with a lavish hand, particularly when the cost can be measured in the saving of lives.
General Oliver’s insistence, his desire to get to the battle, his pleading to take on a grueling march rather than to accept the easy solution with himself entirely absolved of responsibility, all impressed me greatly. Within five minutes he was on his way with the orders he sought.
During that night and the following one Algiers was bombed incessantly.6 No great numbers of the Luftwaffe came over at any one time but the continuous din made sleep impossible and the lack of it soon showed plainly in the faces of headquarters personnel. The principal targets were the ships in the harbor, a quarter of a mile below our hotel, but bombs landing in the city caused some casualties and abundant consternation.
Our air defenses were only slowly developed; one of the ships we had lost to enemy submarines had been carrying most of the warning and control equipment vital to fighter defense. But by the end of the month we had partially corrected the deficiencies, and after the Luftwaffe had taken several nasty knocks it abandoned its attacks against our principal ports except for attempted sneak and surprise forays. One night we got unmistakable proof that the enemy’s bombing crews had developed a healthy respect for the quality of our defenses. We intercepted a radio report from the commander of a bombing squadron to his home base. He said, “Bombs dropped on Algiers as ordered.” But we knew he had dropped his bombs thirty miles out to sea because we had a plane in contact with him at the time. This evidence of weakening enemy morale was instantly circulated to our own people. It was astounding to see its buoyant effect.
After but three days’ intensive work at headquarters I started for the front by automobile, taking General Clark with me. Because of hostile domination of the air, travel anywhere in the forward area was an exciting business. Lookouts kept a keen watch of the skies and the appearance of any plane was the signal to dismount and scatter. Occasionally, of course, the plane would turn out to be friendly—but no one could afford to keep pushing ahead on the chance that this would be so. All of us became quite expert in identifying planes, but I never saw anyone so certain of distant identification that he was ready to stake his chances on it. Truck drivers, engineers, artillerymen, and even the infantrymen in the forward areas had constantly to be watchful. Their dislike of the situation was reflected in the constant plaint, “Where is this bloody Air Force of ours? Why do we see nothing but Heinies?” When the enemy has air superiority the ground forces never hesitate to curse the “aviators.”
Clark and I found Anderson beyond Souk-Ahras, and forward of that place we entered a zone where all around us was evidence of incessant and hard fighting. Every conversation along the roadside brought out astounding exaggerations. “Béja has been bombed to rubble.” “No one can live on this next stretch of road.” “Our troops will surely have to retreat; humans cannot exist in these conditions.” Yet on the whole morale was good. The exaggerations were nothing more than the desire of the individual to convey the thought that he had been through the ultimate in terror and destruction—he had no thought of clearing out himself.
Troops and commanders were not experienced, but the boldness, courage, and stamina of General Anderson’s forces could not have been exceeded by the most battle-wise veterans. Physical conditions were almost unendurable. The mud deepened daily, confining all operations to the roads, long stretches of which practically disintegrated. Winter cold was already descending upon the Tunisian highlands. The bringing up of supplies and ammunition was a Herculean task. In spite of all this, and in spite of Anderson’s lack of strength—his whole force numbered only about three brigades of infantry and a brigade of obsolescent tanks—he pushed on through Souk-el-Khemis, Béja, and finally reached a point from which he could look down into the outskirts of Tunis.7
Day by day, following the first contact, fighting grew more bitter, more stubborn, more difficult, and the enemy was more rapidly reinforced than were our own troops.
Very early I determined to take whatever additional risks might be involved in weakening our rear in order to strengthen Anderson. Shortage of transport prevented anything but movement by driblets—and the inherent dangers of such reinforcement are understood by the rawest of recruits. There was no lack of advisers to warn me concerning public reaction to “dissipation” of the American Army! “How,” I was often asked, “did Pershing make his reputation in World War I?” What such advisers did not recall was Pershing’s famous statement when stark crisis faced the Allies in March 1918. At that time, realizing the size of the stakes, he postponed integration of an American Army and said to Foch, “Every man, every gun, everything we have is yours to use as you see fit.” I felt that here in Tunisia, on a small scale, we had a glowing opportunity comparable to the crisis of 1918, and I was quite willing to take all later criticism if only the Allied forces could turn over Tunis to our people as a New Year’s present!
The gamble was great but the prize was such a glittering one that we abandoned caution in an effort to bring up to General Anderson every available fighting man in the theater. There still existed the fear that the German might thrust air forces down across the Pyrenees into Spain, to attack us from the rear. Nevertheless, as a beginning, the American air forces were directed to move as far to the eastward as possible to join in the air battle in support of General Anderson and to assist in cutting Axis sea communications between Tunis and Italy.8 This was a definite change from the preconceived plan to retain the United States air forces in the western end of the Mediterranean. The move brought them into close proximity to the British air forces and created a need for daily co-ordination.
I had left General Spaatz in England and now I called him forward to take on this particular task. We merely improvised controlling machinery and gave General Spaatz the title of “Acting Deputy Commander in Chief for Air.” Initially, the commander of the American Air Force in North Africa was Major General James Doolittle, who had sprung into fame as the leader of the raid on Tokyo. He was a dynamic personality and a bundle of energy. It took him some time to reconcile himself to shouldering his responsibilities as the senior United States air commander to the exclusion of opportunity for going out to fly a fighter plane against the enemy. But he had the priceless quality of learning from experience. He became one of our really fine commanders.
All during late November and early December the piecemeal process of reinforcing our eastern lines, principally by American troops, went on. Because of the critical nature of the day-by-day fighting and the lack of transport we could not wait to bring up any large unit as an entity nor could we wait to assemble such units before committing them to action. If we should fail to take Tunis we would suffer severely for this procedure, but General Anderson was given positive orders to use everything possible to gain his objective before the increasingly bad weather and the Axis reinforcements should compel us to settle down to a long winter campaign in such uninviting and inhospitable circumstances.
From Oran we brought up elements of the U. S. 1st Armored Division and part of the 1st Infantry Division. The U. S. 34th Division was distributed along the line of communication to protect critical points and to make sure of the security of the vast areas in which we were otherwise completely defenseless. We could use Allied troops for this purpose only on the most vital points, and as the enemy quickly resorted to a system of sabotage by night landing of paratroopers we were forced to rely on French contingents to protect hundreds of culverts, bridges, tunnels, and similar places where a few determined men could have inflicted almost decisive damage upon our lines of communication.
Courage, resourcefulness, and endurance, though daily displayed in overwhelming measure, could not completely overcome the combination of enemy, weather, and terrain. In early December the enemy was strong enough in mechanized units to begin local but sharp counterattacks and we were forced back from our most forward positions in front of Tunis.
As soon as we ceased attacking, the situation in northern Tunisia turned bleak for us, even from a defensive standpoint. Through a blunder during a local withdrawal we had lost the bulk of the equipment of Combat Command B, of the U. S. 1st Armored Division.9 The 18th Infantry of the U. S. 1st Infantry Division took severe losses, and practically an entire battalion of a fine British regiment was wiped out.10 General Anderson soon thought he would have to give up Medjez-el-Bab, a road center and a junction point with the French forces on his right. Since this spot was the key to our resumption of the offensive when we should get the necessary strength, I forbade this move—assuming personal responsibility for the fate of its garrison and the effect of its possible capture upon the safety of the command.11
We were still attempting to mount an attack of our own. Work continued twenty-four hours a day to build up the strength that we believed would, with some temporary improvement in the weather, give us a good fighting chance to capture northeastern Tunisia before all operations were hopelessly bogged down. December 24 was chosen as the date for our final and most ambitious attack.12 Our chief hope for success lay in our temporary advantage in artillery, which was relatively great. But reports from the Tunisian front were discouraging; the weather, instead of improving, continued to deteriorate. Prospects for mounting another attack grew darker.
I was determined not to give up unless personally convinced that the attack was an impossibility. Weather prohibited flying and I started forward by automobile on December 22, encountering miserable road conditions from the moment we left Algiers. Traveling almost incessantly, I met General Anderson at his headquarters in the early morning of December 24 and with him proceeded at once to Souk-el-Khemis.13 At that point was located the headquarters of the British 5 Corps, which was to make the attack and which was commanded by Major General C. W. Allfrey of the British Army. The preliminary moves of the attack had already been made by small detachments, attempting to secure critical points before the beginning of the major maneuver, scheduled for the following night.
The rain fell constantly. We went out personally to inspect the countryside over which the troops would have to advance, and while doing so I observed an incident which, as much as anything else, I think, convinced me of the hopelessness of an attack. About thirty feet off the road, in a field that appeared to be covered with winter wheat, a motorcycle had become stuck in the mud. Four soldiers were struggling to extricate it but in spite of their most strenuous efforts succeeded only in getting themselves mired into the sticky clay. They finally had to give up the attempt and left the motorcycle more deeply bogged down than when they started.
We went back to headquarters and I directed that the attack be indefinitely postponed.14 It was a bitter decision. Immediately it was reached, we were faced with the problem of tidying up and straightening out our lines, assembling units into proper formations, collecting local reserves, and protecting our southern flank where the terrain would permit operations throughout the winter. General Anderson was to do all this while holding firmly the gains we had already made, pending the arrival of better weather in the spring.
In such circumstances it is always necessary for the commander to avoid an attitude of defeatism; discouragement on the part of the high commander inevitably spreads rapidly throughout the command and always with unfortunate results. On that occasion it was exceedingly difficult to display any particular optimism.
As early as the middle of November the French forces in Tunisia had cast their lot with us and were maintaining a precarious hold on the hilly masses stretching to the southward from Tunis, where their total lack of modern equipment did not so badly expose them to destruction.15 With the giving up of our plan for immediate capture of Tunis, the line that we selected for defense was one that would cover the forward airfields located at Thelepte, Youks-les-Bains, and Souk-el-Arba. As long as these fields were in our possession we could, with our growing air forces, constantly pound away, at least in decent weather, at Axis communications. We would be in perfect position to resume the assault once conditions of weather and terrain and our growing strength permitted. For the rest of the winter, therefore, our defensive plan embraced the covering of these forward areas. Without them we would be forced back into the Bône-Constantine region and would be faced in the following spring with the problem of fighting our way forward, without suitable air support, through difficult mountainous areas at the cost of great numbers of lives. I was convinced that no disadvantage of supply or of danger in these forward positions was to be considered for a second above the dangers that would follow a general retirement to a more secure and convenient position. We had also to consider the moral effect of retreat upon the population of North Africa, a matter of grave concern to Giraud and other French leaders.
Up to this time the only flank protection we had been able to establish in all the great region stretching from Tebessa southward to Gafsa had been provided by scattered French irregulars reinforced and inspired by a small United States parachute detachment under the command of a gallant American, Colonel Edson D. Raff.16 The story of his operations in that region is a minor epic in itself. The deceptions he practiced, the speed with which he struck, his boldness and his aggressiveness, kept the enemy completely confused during a period of weeks. But with the cessation of our attacks in the north the enemy was immediately enabled, behind the coastal mountain barrier, to concentrate his troops at will. It was unreasonable to assume that he would fail to realize our great weakness in the Tebessa region; it was likely that he would quickly strike us a damaging blow unless we took prompt measures to prevent it.
To provide the necessary protection the II Corps Headquarters, under General Fredendall, was brought up from Oran and directed to take station in the Tebessa region.17 To it was assigned the U. S. 1st Armored Division, by this time largely brought up to strength, even though some of its equipment was already of an obsolete type. Logistics staffs opposed my purpose of concentrating a full corps east of Tebessa. They wailed that our miserable communications could not maintain more than an armored division and one additional regiment. But, convinced that the enemy would soon take advantage of our obvious weakness there, I nevertheless ordered the concentration of the corps of four divisions to begin and told the logistics people they would have to find a way to supply it.
The U. S. 1st Infantry Division was to be assigned to this corps as quickly as it could be assembled from its scattered positions on the front and brought into this sector. The U. S. 9th Division, less the 39th Regimental combat team which had participated in the Algiers assault, was gradually transferred eastward from the Casablanca area and was to go under command of II Corps when the movement could be completed. The 34th Division received similar orders, its duties in the line of communication to be taken over by the French.18
The instructions given to the American II Corps were to provide a strategic flank guard for our main forces in the north.19 Fredendall was directed to hold the mountain passes with light infantry detachments and to concentrate the assembled 1st Armored Division in rear of the infantry outposts, ready to attack in force any hostile column that might attempt to move through the mountains toward our line of communications. General Fredendall was further authorized, upon completion of the assembly of his corps, to undertake offensive action in the direction of Sfax or Gabès in an effort to sever Rommel’s line of communications with Tunisia.20 A portion of the staff became obsessed with the idea of the potential results of such an operation and desired to order it forthwith. I disapproved: our immediate capacity for an offensive was nil. So that there could be no misunderstanding I held a personal conference with General Fredendall and completely outlined my purpose in concentrating his corps in the Tebessa area. These purposes were, as stated, to provide a mobile, strategic flank guard on our right, with its striking force represented principally in the concentrated armored division, which was stronger in tanks than anything the enemy could bring against it. Only when he could be assured that the whole region was safe from attack was he to be allowed to undertake offensive action in the direction of the coast line, and even under those conditions he was not to place any isolated infantry garrison in any coast town he might take.
In this incident I came squarely up against the love of staffs for expressing operational ideas in terms of geographical points and objectives. The idea of fighting to protect ourselves where necessary and of concentrating at chosen points to destroy the enemy is difficult to express. Such an idea implies great fluidity and flexibility in operations, and consequently planners find it difficult to reduce the conception to writing. Because of this they resort to the habit of laying out a plan based upon the capture or holding of specific geographical points, and sometimes, particularly in strategic planning, this is necessary. Nevertheless such plans are dangerous because they are likely to impose a rigidity of action upon the commander who receives them for execution. A qualified commander should normally be assigned only a general mission, whether it be of attack or defense, and then given the means to carry it out. In this way he is completely unfettered in achieving the general purpose of his superior.
During all these weeks it had been impossible to set up a unified command for the battle line, except that of Allied Force Headquarters itself. The French refused to serve under British command and maintained that there would be a rebellion in their Army if I insisted upon this arrangement, because of ill feeling still enduring from the British-French clashes in Syria, Oran, and Dakar.21 The British First Army was on the left, the French forces in the center, and the American forces on the right, but all occupying parts of a single, closely interrelated battle front, and all dependent upon a single, inadequate line of communications. It was an exasperating situation, full of potential danger. The best I could do was to set up a forward command post of my own, where I spent as much time as I could. I left there permanently a small staff under General Truscott, whose task it was to represent me in the co-ordination of details on the front.
This condition persisted until French forces in the center, giving way in mid-January before small but determined German attacks, created a critical situation that demanded renewed dispersion of the assembling American troops in order to plug holes in the leaky front.22 Under these conditions, just after the middle of January, I peremptorily ordered General Anderson to take charge of the entire battle line.23 I personally visited General Juin, in command of the French forces in the line, to assure myself that he would take orders from General Anderson. Later I informed General Giraud of what I had done. He interposed no objection—the need had become too obvious.
The picture, then, when General Anderson took over the entire battle front, was that of a long tenuous line stretching from Bizerte to Gafsa, with units badly mixed and with no local reserves. To support this long front there was nothing available until the American II Corps could be fully concentrated in the Tebessa region and until additional troops from England should be able to perform a similar service in the northern Tunisia area. The process of sorting out units and providing the mobile reserves started before Christmas but received a bad setback when the French forces gave way in mid-January and American units had to rush in to close the gaps.24 The French defeat could not be traced to any lack of gallantry or courage; it was merely the total lack of modern equipment, a deficiency we were struggling to correct.
Through all this period the tangled political situation kept worrying us; it was difficult to pierce the web of intrigue, misinformation, misunderstanding, and burning prejudice that surrounded even the minor elements of the whole problem. A principal factor in the situation was the Arab population and its explosive potentialities. The French general in Morocco, Noguès, was untrustworthy and worse, but he was the Foreign Minister to the Sultan; all reports indicated that he enjoyed the full confidence and friendship of the Moroccans. The fierce tribesmen of that area were a force to be reckoned with; General Patton was fearful of the whole situation and still adhered to his estimate that if the Moroccans should grow antagonistic to us it would require 60,000 fully equipped Americans to keep order in that region alone. We could not afford—and did not have—any such force. Patton strongly counseled us to let Noguès alone!
One complication in the Arab tangle was the age-old antagonism existing between the Arab and the Jew. Since the former outnumbered the latter by some forty to one in North Africa, it had become local policy to placate the Arab at the expense of the Jew; repressive laws had resulted and the Arab population regarded any suggestion for amelioration of such laws as the beginning of an effort to establish a Jewish government, with consequent persecution of themselves. Remembering that for years the uneducated population had been subjected to intensive Nazi propaganda calculated to fan these prejudices, it is easy to understand that the situation called more for caution and evolution than it did for precipitate action and possible revolution. The country was ridden, almost ruled, by rumor. One rumor was to the effect that I was a Jew, sent into the country by the Jew, Roosevelt, to grind down the Arabs and turn over North Africa to Jewish rule. The political staff was so concerned about this one that they published material on me in newspapers and in special leaflets to establish evidence of my ancestry. Arab unrest, or, even worse, open rebellion, would have set us back for months and lost us countless lives.
So far as the Frenchman in the cafés was concerned—the individual who talked incessantly to newspaper reporters—the answer was beautifully simple. It was merely to throw out, arbitrarily, every official who had been identified with or had taken orders from Vichy and to put in their places those who now claimed to be sympathetic to us. But since all the hated Vichy officials had carefully ingratiated themselves with the Arab population it was manifest that only through progressive changes and careful handling of personnel could we prevent the Arab-French-Jewish pot from boiling over.
To illustrate the delicacy of the situation: very early we had insisted that the French authorities ameliorate anti-Jewish laws and practices, going far beyond the bounds of “Allied co-operation” in the forcefulness of our demands. Appropriate proclamations were issued and we felt that some progress had been achieved. Imagine my astonishment when Darlan came to my office with a letter signed by a man whom he identified as the “Rabbi of Constantine,” which implored the authorities to go very slowly in relaxation of anti-Jewish practices, else, the letter said, the Arabs would undoubtedly stage a pogrom! This minor example of the confused nature of the racial and political relationships was multiplied daily in innumerable directions.
Politics, economy, fighting—all were inextricably mixed up and confused one with the other.
On the political side Murphy and his British counterpart, Mr. Harold Macmillan, worked tirelessly, but they had had to deal with the dangerous Darlan, later with the gallant and honest but politically uninterested Giraud, the weak Yves Chatel, the notorious Noguès, and men of similar stripe. We insisted upon liberalization of the political systems but every day brought new complaints, most of them well founded, of continued injustices, lack of good faith, and lip service without performance. We determined to begin elimination of the most objectionable characters but were desperate over our failure to find satisfactory substitutes. Moreover, always we had to move in the knowledge that we were ostensibly in the land of an ally: we had neither the authority nor the responsibilities implicit in a military occupation. Nevertheless we early told Darlan he had to get rid of Chatel, governor of Algeria, and Noguès, minister to the Sultan of Morocco.
In this type of problem General Giraud was no help. He hated politics; not merely crookedness and chicanery in politics, but every part of the necessary task of developing an orderly, democratic system of government applicable to the North African kaleidoscope. He merely wanted supplies and equipment to develop fighting divisions and, provided he could get these, he had no interest in the governmental organization or its personnel. His purpose was pure but his capacity for larger administrative and organizational tasks was doubtful.
Darlan was assassinated on December 24, the same day that I was compelled to abandon all thought of immediate attack in northern Tunisia. I was at the headquarters of British 5 Corps near Béja when notice of his death reached me and I immediately started for Algiers. I arrived there after thirty hours of non-stop driving through rain, snow, and sleet.
My entire acquaintanceship with Darlan covered a period of six weeks. His reputation was that of a notorious collaborator with Hitler, but during the time that he served as the administrator of French North Africa he never once, to our knowledge, violated any commitment or promise. On the other hand, his mannerisms and personality did not inspire confidence and in view of his reputation we were always uneasy in dealing with him. In any event, his death presented me with new problems.
While it was known, of course, that the person in the French Government I trusted most was General Giraud, my headquarters was still in no position to sponsor a puppet government. Such a resort to Nazi methods would have been a far more serious violation of the principles for which we were fighting than would the mere temporary acceptance of some individual whose past record was, from our viewpoint, distasteful. Moreover, in our inner councils we doubted Giraud’s ability to establish himself firmly in the chief position—but no one else was both acceptable and immediately available. Without delay the French local officials named General Giraud as the temporary administrator of North Africa to succeed Darlan.25 Giraud visited my headquarters and his first request was that I “cease treating North Africa as a conquered territory and treat it more as the ally which it was trying to become.” This attitude, on the part of one who, I thought, understood our motives so well, was something of a shock.
The governor in Algeria, Chatel, was a weakling who held the trust of none of us. He and General Noguès were two individuals we were determined to get rid of quickly, even though in the case of the latter General Patton constantly insisted that he was working effectively for the Allies in Morocco. My own belief was that General Noguès might co-operate with us as long as he thought we were winning but at the first sign of weakness he would unhesitatingly turn against us. Darlan had met every expression of our dissatisfaction with these two men by replying, “I don’t want them either but the governing of Arab tribes is a tricky business that requires much experience with them. As quickly as you can produce any men, of your own choice, who are experienced in this regard and are loyal Frenchmen, I will instantly dismiss the incumbents and appoint the men you desire.”
In the search for satisfactory individuals we decided to bring Marcel Peyrouton to Algiers. It was reported to me that Peyrouton was then a virtual exile in Argentina, unable to go back to France because of the bitter enmity of Pierre Laval toward him. It was also reported that he had previously established a reputation in North Africa as a skillful colonial administrator. Nevertheless he had been, for a considerable time, a member of the Vichy government and was therefore regarded in the democratic world as a Fascist. We explained our problem to the State Department and after some exchange of messages on the subject were informed that the State Department was in agreement with us.26
Bringing Peyrouton to Algeria as governor was a mistake, even though he was a vast improvement over his soft and vacillating predecessor. It was difficult indeed to find men who had any experience in French colonial administration and at the same time bore no trace of the Vichy trademark. Our first thought had been to use Mast, Bethouart, and a few others who had, by their actions, proved their friendliness to us. Here the difficulty was the attitude of the French Army, whose assistance we badly needed. We forced official acceptance, even the promotion, of Mast and Bethouart, but we could not force social acceptance at that time. Their wives were coldly treated, even insulted, by the wives of other officers. The feeling against them was initially so strong that they themselves, and Giraud, counseled against the attempt to use them in administrative positions.
In this period I made another error, even though from a good motive. It was the application of censorship to political news from North Africa for a period of six weeks. Because of personal dislike of censorship, I had to be convinced that the reason for such action was important. In this case it was. The plan of my political advisers and myself was to promote an eventual union between the local French administration and the De Gaulle forces in London. It was, we felt, a difficult but necessary development.
The local antagonism in the French Army and in all echelons of government against De Gaulle was intense, but he enjoyed a distinct popularity with the civilians and this sentiment progressively increased as prospects of Allied success brightened. Through every possible outlet open to them the De Gaulle forces in London and central Africa were fiercely attacking every French military and civil official in Africa, and the latter wanted to reply, publicly, in terms no less harsh. I believed that to permit the growth of such a public name-calling contest would create conditions which would make future reconciliation impossible. By imposing political censorship on all I prevented local French officials from participating in the public quarrel. They argued bitterly, as did the press representatives in the theater. I think the censorship had some of the desired effect, and it was lifted the second I learned that Giraud and De Gaulle had agreed to meet at Casablanca. The reasons for the censorship could not be explained, however, and were of course misinterpreted at home.
The intricacies of the situation, military and political, were complicated by the economic situation. North Africa was stripped of usable goods, and shipping was so scarce that every available ton was required for military uses. Wheat, coal, cloth, medicine, soaps, and a myriad other items were sorely needed. While we took military needs as our criterion—that is, every problem was decided upon the basis of its bearing upon the military situation—still it was frequently difficult to tell, for example, whether military requirements would be best satisfied by a shipload of bombs or an equal amount of coal!
The Christmas season brought to me the dismaying realization that there are certain limits of physical stamina that cannot safely be exceeded. I inherited a hardy constitution from sturdy forebears and, heretofore always careful of health requisites, I had come to believe myself immune from the fatigues and exhaustions that I frequently observed in others. Long hours and incessant work were easily enough sustained, I thought, so long as one refused to fall victim to useless worry or to waste his strength in any kind of excess. But as the December weeks kept me constantly on the road or in the air and shorter and shorter hours of sleep became broken by an unaccustomed nervousness, I definitely felt a deterioration in vigor that I could not overcome. On Christmas Day I contracted a severe case of flu, and, convinced that I must not go to bed, I finally became really ill.
The doctors then took charge. For four days they would not let me move, and during that time I not only recovered my health, I learned a lesson I did not thereafter violate: a full measure of health is basic to successful command. I did not have another sick day—aside from minor accidents—during the war.
In December we received our first consignment of Women’s Army Corps personnel, then known as Women’s Auxiliary Army Corps. Until my experience in London I had been opposed to the use of women in uniform. But in Great Britain I had seen them perform so magnificently in various positions, including service in active antiaircraft batteries, that I had been converted. In Africa many officers were still doubtful of women’s usefulness in uniform—the older commanders in particular were filled with misgivings and open skepticism. What these men had failed to note was the changing requirements of war. The simple headquarters of a Grant or a Lee were gone forever. An army of filing clerks, stenographers, office managers, telephone operators, and chauffeurs had become essential, and it was scarcely less than criminal to recruit these from needed manpower when great numbers of highly qualified women were available. From the day they first reached us their reputation as an efficient, effective corps continued to grow. Toward the end of the war the most stubborn die-hards had become convinced—and demanded them in increasing numbers. At first the women were kept carefully back at GHQ and secure bases, but as their record for helpfulness grew, so did the scope of their duties in positions progressively nearer the front. Nurses had, of course, long been accepted as a necessary contingent of a fighting force. From the outset of this war our nurses lived up to traditions tracing back to Florence Nightingale; consequently it was difficult to understand the initial resistance to the employment of women in other activities. They became hospital assistants, dietitians, personal assistants, and even junior staff officers in many headquarters. George Patton, later in the war, was to insist that one of his most valuable assistants was his Wac office manager.
By late December my own personal staff, starting from a total of two individuals eight months before, had achieved the composition that it was substantially to maintain throughout the remainder of the war. Commander Harry Butcher of the Navy and Captain Ernest Lee were personal aides. Nana Rae, Margaret Chick, and Sue Sarafian were personal and office secretaries. Kay Summersby was corresponding secretary and doubled as a driver. Sergeants Leonard Dry and Pearlie Hargreaves were chauffeurs. Sergeants Popp, Moaney, Hunt, Novak, and Williams, with Sergeant Farr as a later replacement, ran the house, field camp, and mess. Colonel James Gault of the Scots Guard shortly joined me and thereafter remained with me throughout the war as British Military Assistant.
Sergeant Michael McKeogh was my orderly, who accompanied me always and was close by my side, day and night. One day in Africa I had to make a hurried trip to the front and I telephoned to Sergeant McKeogh to bring a bag to the airfield. Flying conditions were deplorable and, in the total absence of flying aids in the mountainous country of Tunisia, the prospect of the flight was not enjoyable. When I got to the plane I found Sergeant McKeogh also prepared to make the journey. I said, “Mickey, I intend to return tomorrow, and I doubt that I will need you before then. Flying conditions are not comfortable and there is no use in both of us being miserable. You may go on back to quarters.”
The sergeant seemed to pale a bit but he looked me squarely in the eye and said, “Sir, my mother wrote me that my job in this war was to take care of you. And she said also, ‘If General Eisenhower doesn’t come back from this war, don’t you dare to come back.’ ”
The impact of such loyalty and devotion, not only on the part of the sergeant but on the part of the mother who could say such a thing to her son, left me almost speechless. All I did say was, “Well, hop into the plane. We’re late.”
Many months after the war was over I heard that a landlady had denied Sergeant McKeogh and his family permission to stay temporarily in one of her apartments on the ground that “after all, he was merely General Eisenhower’s valet. I must maintain the proper social atmosphere in my properties.” I trust that the lady is not concerned over the relative standing of herself and Sergeant McKeogh in my affections, respect, and admiration!
One of my finest memories of the war is the service rendered me by my personal staff. Seemingly by common consent they gave my affairs and welfare, even my comfort and convenience, complete priority over any consideration of their personal desires or ambitions.
On the official level I had an outstanding staff, many members of which served with me throughout the war. Under General Smith, the chief of staff, were such men as Generals Sir Humfrey Gale, J. F. M. Whiteley, and Kenneth Strong of the British Army, and Everett S. Hughes, Ben M. Sawbridge, Lowell W. Rooks, and Arthur S. Nevins of the American Army. They and their many associates mastered, during the African campaigns, the art of dealing with large Allied forces, operating under single command. Without men of their caliber in the important staff positions of AFHQ, the unification of the Allied forces could not have been achieved. Their names are virtually unknown to the public. But they and their counterparts in many other high headquarters were as responsible for the teamwork out of which came the victories in Tunisia, Sicily, Italy, and northwest Europe as were many others whose more spectacular accomplishments often made headlines.
Every commander is always careful to select only the best officers he can find for key staff positions in his headquarters. Yet these men, who in the average case would do anything to obtain a field command and who could serve brilliantly in such positions, devote their talents to the drudgery of the staff with few of the rewards that go to their comrades of the line.