IN DECEMBER WE RECEIVED WORD THAT THE President of the United States and the Prime Minister of Great Britain, each accompanied by a considerable civil and military staff, would hold a meeting in Casablanca during the month of January. We were directed to make all preparations for the meeting.
I have never learned the exact reasons that led the President and the Prime Minister to choose Casablanca as the location for the conference. Possibly the spot was selected with the idea that Premier Stalin might be induced to come that far to join in a conference; possibly the President and Prime Minister saw certain psychological advantages in meeting at a place so lately seized by Allied forces. At the time it seemed to us a risky thing to do, both because hostile bombers were occasionally visiting that area and because there were many dissident elements in the population, including numbers of fanatics who might be expected to undertake any kind of extreme action.1 Preparations for the meeting involved anxious care and a very considerable amount of work, not the least of which was spent to preserve secrecy.
The conference convened on schedule. During the course of its deliberations a number of British and American officers of all services were called before it in the role of professional witnesses. I spent a complete day at the conference, after a journey that suddenly and unexpectedly became somewhat hazardous owing to the loss of two engines. Under orders of the pilot, Captain Jock Reedy, we flew the last fifty miles of the journey with all the passengers standing by the nearest exits, equipped in parachutes and ready to jump on an instant’s notice. With an anxious thought for an old football knee, I was delighted that I did not have to adopt this method of disembarkation.
That was my only day at the conference. I was already far too busy elsewhere to stay for a single moment longer than my presence was required. I learned of most of the happenings and decisions when General Marshall later came to visit me at Algiers.2 However, at the one staff session I did attend the military situation in North Africa was thoroughly discussed.
I described the conditions that had compelled us to suspend our offensive in the north and outlined our current effort to establish the II Corps in the Tebessa region. I told the conference that provided we could establish and maintain the entire corps there, and if the enemy should remain quiescent, we could later attempt an advance toward Gabès or Sfax, but we could not predict that this would happen. We regarded it as a most desirable move if it should prove possible, and were building up as rapidly as we could, but our first concern was and would remain the safety of our exposed right flank.3
Alexander here interrupted to say that we could drop consideration of the offensive move because the British forces would be quickly in Tripoli and, if that port was at all usable, the British Eighth Army would be at the southern border of Tunisia in the first week in March. This was great news!
I had long talks with General Marshall, the Prime Minister, and others. In the early evening the President sent word that he would like to see me alone. This was one of several intimate and private conversations I had with Mr. Roosevelt during the war. His optimism and buoyancy, amounting almost to lightheartedness, I attributed to the atmosphere of adventure attached to the Casablanca expedition. Successful in shaking loose for a few days many of the burdens of state, he seemed to experience a tremendous uplift from the fact that he had secretly slipped away from Washington and was engaged in a historic meeting on territory that only two months before had been a battleground. While he recognized the seriousness of the war problems still facing the Allies, much of his comment dealt with the distant future, the post-hostilities tasks, including disposition of colonies and territories.
He speculated at length on the possibility of France’s regaining her ancient position of prestige and power in Europe and on this point was very pessimistic. As a consequence, his mind was wrestling with the questions of methods for controlling certain strategic points in the French Empire which he felt that the country might no longer be able to hold.
He was especially interested in my impressions of some of the more prominent French personalities, particularly Boisson, Giraud, De Gaulle, and Flandin; the last-named I had not met.
We went over in detail the military and political developments of the preceding ten weeks; he was obviously and outspokenly delighted with the progress we had made. However, when I outlined some of the possibilities for reverses that the winter held for us, his manner indicated that he thought I took this too seriously. While both of us were aware that the Axis forces in Africa could not permanently withstand the pincers effect that General Sir Harold R. L. G. Alexander’s forces and our own were developing, President Roosevelt’s estimate of the final collapse was, in my opinion, too sanguine by many weeks. Under his insistence that I name a date I finally blurted out my most miraculous guess of the war. “May 15,” I said. Shortly thereafter I told Alexander of this and he, with a smile, said that in answer to the same question at the conference he had replied, “May 30.”
I found that the President, in his consideration of current African problems, did not always distinguish clearly between the military occupation of enemy territory and the situation in which we found ourselves in North Africa.4 He constantly referred to plans and proposals affecting the local population, the French Army, and governmental officials in terms of orders, instructions, and compulsion. It was necessary to remind him that from the outset we had operated under policies requiring us to gain and use an ally—that, far from governing a conquered country, we were attempting only to force a gradual widening of the base of government, with the final objective of turning all internal affairs over to popular control. He, of course, agreed—realizing that he had personally collaborated in the original formulation of the policy long before the invasion—but he nevertheless continued, perhaps subconsciously, to discuss local problems from the viewpoint of a conqueror. It would have been so much easier for us could we have done the same! He shrewdly remarked, however, that it was entirely proper to condition the supply of the considerable amounts of military equipment the French ardently desired upon their compliance with American convictions regarding European strategy, utilization of French bases, and the progressive replacement of French officials who were objectionable to the American Government.5 Unless they generally supported us in these important matters, it was obviously futile to arm them. He was particularly anxious to retain Boisson in control of French West Africa.
To me, the most satisfying part of the whole conversation was the assurance I gained that the President firmly adhered to our basic concept of European strategy, namely the cross-Channel invasion. He was certain that great results would flow from the spring and summer campaigns in the Mediterranean but he properly continued to look upon these as preliminaries to, and in support of, the great venture which had been agreed upon almost a year before as the true line of Allied effort for accomplishing the defeat of Germany.6
When I later called upon the Prime Minister I was delighted to get a similar assurance. He said, “General, I have heard here that we British are planning to scuttle Roundup. This is not so. I have given my word and I shall keep it. But we now have a glorious opportunity before us; we must not fail to seize it. When the time comes you will find the British ready to do their part in the other operation.” Roundup was the code name that was later changed to Overlord.
The President was hopeful of a quick settlement of the French political situation through a reconciliation between Giraud and De Gaulle, feeling that he could convince both that the best interests of France would be served by their joining forces. During the conversation, which turned frequently to the personal, I was struck with his phenomenal memory for detail. He recalled that my brother Milton had visited Africa and he told me the reasons why he had assigned Milton to the OWI, which was headed by Elmer Davis. He repeated entire sentences, almost paragraphs, from the radiogram I had sent home to explain the Darlan matter and told me the message had been most useful in calming fears that all of us were turning Fascist.
It was some time after I had returned to Algiers that the “unconditional surrender” formula was announced by the President and the Prime Minister.7 Of more immediate importance to me was the decision that the British Eighth Army and the Desert Air Force, coming up through Tripoli and lower Tunisia, would be assigned to the Allied forces under my command when once they had entered the latter province. During the day I spent at Casablanca I was informed of this general plan, but not until General Marshall later came to Algiers did I learn that it had been definitely approved. General Alexander was to become the deputy commander of the Allied forces. Admiral Cunningham was to remain as my naval C. in C. and Air Chief Marshal Sir Arthur W. Tedder was assigned as the C. in C. of air forces. It was contemplated that this organization would become effective in early February.8
This development was extraordinarily pleasing to me because it meant, first and foremost, complete unity of action in the central Mediterranean and it provided needed machinery for effective tactical and strategical co-ordination. I informed the President and the Chief of Staff that I would be delighted to serve under Alexander if it should be decided to give him the supreme authority. I made this suggestion because the ground strength of the Allied Force, after amalgamation with the desert units, would be even more predominantly British. All of us announced ourselves as satisfied and thus there began what was, for me, an exceptionally gratifying experience in the unification of thought and action in an allied command. Other decisions of the Casablanca Conference affected later phases of our operations, the chief of which, so far as we were concerned, was to prepare to attack Sicily as soon as Africa should be cleared.9
The remainder of the month of January and early February were employed in haste to get the battle line properly organized, to improve our airfields, and to bring up reinforcements, both in men and in supplies.10 A succession of relatively small enemy attacks along our front prevented full realization of our plan to assemble our larger units into proper formations. This was particularly serious in its effect upon the U. S. 1st Armored Division, which the army commander thought necessary to use in relatively small packets along a considerable portion of his front.
General Marshall and Admiral King came on to Algiers upon the completion of the Casablanca Conference and the three of us carefully analyzed the situation. All understood the inherent risks resulting from the temporary failure of my all-out gamble but they enthusiastically approved the attempt, Admiral King saying, “We’ve seen what happens when commanders sit down and wait for the enemy to attack. Keep slugging!”
I expected General Alexander and Air Chief Marshal Tedder to join us in Tunisia about February 4 or 5 and I was looking forward to their arrival, anticipating an opportunity to secure better unification of the several sectors of the battle line. Because General Anderson, commanding the British First Army, had originally been engaged entirely in the north, his communications and command post were so situated as to make most difficult his effective control of the central and southern portions of the long line.11 On the other hand, the meager quality of the signal communications from west to east across North Africa made it impossible for me to stay permanently on what was essentially a single battle front. The arrival of Alexander would automatically correct this situation.
I was still concerned that both Anderson and Fredendall should clearly understand that my intentions in southern Tunisia were, temporarily, defensive and that our dispositions were made so as to insure our own safety and to secure the forward airfields. On January 18, I flew to Constantine, where I held a conference with Generals Anderson, Fredendall, and Juin, and a number of staff officers.12 I again instructed Anderson to hold as much of the II Corps as possible in mobile reserve, especially the U. S. 1st Armored Division.13 I reiterated, also, that defenses in the southern sector should be perfected. I told the conference that what I had learned at Casablanca concerning the speed of Alexander’s westward advance across the desert merely emphasized the need for us to protect ourselves effectively in the area of eventual junction of the two forces. Small raids and minor tactical action were to be encouraged, but no moves were to be made that could throw us off balance.
In one of my later trips to the front, on February 1, I again met Anderson and repeated my instructions that, in the southern sector, there must be a strong, mobile reserve.14 However, the inability of the poorly equipped French forces to withstand repeated, though light, attacks in the mountains between the British and American forces continued to defeat Anderson’s efforts to comply with these orders. He was constantly forced to plug gaps in the central sector by drawing on British and American strength.
In early February we received information that the enemy was preparing for a more ambitious counterattack against our lines than any he had yet attempted. To provide additional strength for this counterattack, some of Rommel’s forces were hurried back from Tripoli to join Von Arnim and Messe in Tunisia. Our early information was that the attack was to be expected through the pass at Fondouk. Watchfulness was of course indicated everywhere and it became more than ever important that our mobile reserves, particularly our armored elements, be kept well concentrated in order to meet the coming attack, no matter through which of the several available passes it might be launched.
The most dangerous area was that held by the American II Corps, stretching throughout a long line from Gafsa on the south to approximately Fondouk on the left. As quickly as possible after conferences in Algiers with various individuals who had previously attended the Casablanca meeting, I departed for that part of the front to spend a week satisfying myself that everything was in good order to receive the expected attack. I had received disappointing word from General Alexander that he could not arrive in the theater before the sixteenth or seventeenth of the month, and I felt it imperative to take personal action in the matter even though General Anderson had then been in command of the battle line for several weeks.
I departed from Algiers just after midnight on February 12 and, holding several conferences on the way, arrived at General Fredendall’s headquarters on the afternoon of the thirteenth.15 It was my first trip as a four-star general, to which temporary grade I was promoted on February 11. I was still a lieutenant colonel in the Regular Army.
Second Corps Headquarters had established itself in a deep and almost inaccessible ravine, a few miles east of Tebessa. It was a long way from the battle front, but, considering the length of the lines and the paucity of roads, it was probably as good a site for the main headquarters as was available. When I reached the headquarters there was a din of hammers and drills. Upon inquiring as to the cause, I learned that the corps engineers were engaged in tunneling into the sides of the ravine to provide safe quarters for the staff. I quietly asked whether the engineers had first assisted in preparing front-line defenses but a young staff officer, apparently astonished at my ignorance, said, “Oh, the divisions have their own engineers for that!” It was the only time, during the war, that I ever saw a divisional or higher headquarters so concerned over its own safety that it dug itself underground shelters.
In company with Lieutenant Colonel Russell F. (Red) Akers, one of Fredendall’s staff officers, I promptly started on an all-night inspection of the front lines. At that time the II Corps consisted of the U. S. 1st Armored Division, the 1st Infantry Division, with the U. S. 34th Division assembling in the area. The 9th Division was under orders to join when it could come up.16
I found a number of things that were disturbing. The first of these was a certain complacency, illustrated by an unconscionable delay in perfecting defensive positions in the passes. Lack of training and experience on the part of commanders was responsible. At one point where mine fields were not yet planted the excuse was given that the defending infantry had been present in the area only two days. The commander explained, with an air of pride, that he had prepared a map for his mine defense and would start next day to put out the mines. Our experience in north Tunisia had been that the enemy was able to prepare a strong defensive position ready to resist counterattack within two hours after his arrival on the spot. The enemy’s invariable practice upon capture of a hill or other feature was to plant his mines instantly, install his machine guns, and locate troops in nearby reserve where they could operate effectively against any force that we might send against them. These tactical lessons had apparently been ignored by commanders, even by those who had been in the theater for three months. I gave orders for immediate correction.
But by far the most serious defect was the fact that the U. S. 1st Armored Division was still not properly concentrated to permit its employment as a unit.17 At the moment General Anderson had such meager reserves throughout his long line that he felt compelled to station half the division near Fondouk, where he expected the main enemy attack to fall, and he held this force in army reserve by keeping in his own hands the authority to commit it to action. The remainder was scattered in small detachments to the southward throughout the II Corps front. As a result the 1st Armored Division commander, Major General Orlando Ward, had nothing left under his own command except minor detachments of light tanks.
During the night I visited along the front between Maknassy and Faid Pass. Near the latter place I decorated an American officer for gallantry only two or three hours before the German attack fell upon the positions outside the pass at Sidi-Bou-Zid.
Brigadier General Paul McD. Robinett, an old friend of mine, was commanding an armored unit in the valley, near Fondouk. He was sure that there would be no attack at that point, and pointed out for me on the map the distance to which his reconnaissance patrols had penetrated. He said he had reported those facts several times to his superiors. I was convinced of the accuracy of his report and told him I would take the matter up the next day with the corps and army commanders.
I spent the remainder of an exhausting night conferring with commanders and noting the matters that I wanted to take up with General Fredendall. Our little inspecting party started back before dawn, but we were delayed at Sbeitla by an outbreak of sporadic firing ahead of us. After a reconnaissance in force, in which my aide, Captain Lee, and Lieutenant Colonel Akers composed the assault wave, while I with a .45 formed the mobile reserve, we remounted our cars and made our way through the town without incident. A short time later my driver fell asleep and we ended up in a shallow ditch, but with no casualties. Upon arrival at corps headquarters I found that the German attack had already struck.18 It was too late to make changes in dispositions.
Although during the morning frequent and, as it later turned out, very accurate reports were submitted by the American troops to General Anderson concerning the strength and direction of the German attack through Faid, these reports were discounted by the Army and AFHQ Intelligence divisions as the exaggeration of green, untried troops. The belief that the main attack was still to come through Fondouk persisted, both at Army headquarters and, as I later learned, in the G-2 Division at AFHQ.19 The G-2 error was serious. After the battle I replaced the head of my Intelligence organization at AFHQ. The result of this misconception was that the penetration gained a tremendous headway before General Anderson could understand what was actually taking place.
Realizing by nightfall that reinforcements in men and equipment would be needed quickly and urgently, I hastened back to headquarters to hurry them forward. We scraped the barrel and then I started back to the front.
During the withdrawal the Americans fought a series of ineffective, though gallant, delaying actions on the way back toward Kasserine Pass, a spot clearly indicated as one to be strongly held. But there was a local lack of appreciation of exactly what was happening and the troops assigned were neither numerous enough nor skillful enough to hold that strong position. The enemy armor pushed on through the hastily constructed defense in the pass.
Finally, however, in spite of surprise and relatively large losses, our troops rallied in good fashion and fell back to cover the important center of Tebessa and the routes leading northward from Kasserine toward Le Kef.
Our forward airfields at Thelepte had to be temporarily abandoned but the air force pulled out with no loss of personnel or machines and with immaterial losses in fuel and other supplies. Just behind Tebessa was the field of Youks-les-Bains, and it was therefore doubly important for the II Corps to hold this center of communications. Farther to the north it had to resist a German penetration in the direction of Thala, toward Le Kef. The 34th Division was in position on the northern flank and, in spite of its long period of inactivity and dispersion, did good work in the defense. To help stop the enemy’s northward thrust, British artillery and tanks were rushed down from the north, where the enemy had somewhat thinned his lines in order to secure the strength for the Kasserine offensive. The artillery of the U. S. 9th Division also participated effectively in this action.20 By the evening of the twenty-first it was apparent that the enemy had stretched himself to the limit and his supply was becoming difficult. More than this, his line of communications ran through the vulnerable Kasserine Gap and his troops to the west of that point were becoming precariously exposed to attack by any forces we could bring up.
The enemy’s advance, by the twenty-second, was completely stalled. George Patton, who always liked to bring up historical precedent, remarked, “Well, Von Arnim should have read about Lee’s attack at Fort Stedman.” There, outside Petersburg, the last desperate Confederate counterattack was stopped and driven back in bloody retreat by strong Union reserves.
The staff, always charged with presenting the gloomy side of the picture, devised a plan to cover our movements in case the enemy should penetrate to the First Army’s main line of communications. I told them that it was useless to consider the plan further—the enemy was substantially stopped—but finally agreed that there was no objection to letting subordinates know what would have to be done should some entirely unforeseen circumstance like this occur. Alexander, Spaatz, and others agreed that the immediate danger was over, and all of us turned our attention to punishing the enemy.
At that moment the weather, which had been so abominable as to prevent the effective use of our growing air force, took a turn for the better and all the combat planes we had were put into the fight. An embarrassing incident arose during these air attacks which, while admittedly due to lack of experience on the part of combat crews, still illustrates the technical difficulties of which critics, fighting battles from the comfort of an armchair, know nothing.
A group of Fortresses was ordered to bomb Kasserine Pass. They took off in cloudy weather and spent some time searching for the target. Completely dependent upon dead reckoning for navigation, they became badly lost. When they finally concluded they were over the target they dropped their bombs on Souk-el-Arba, an important town within our lines and more than a hundred miles from Kasserine Pass.21 A number of Arabs were killed and wounded, and much property destroyed. We had to act fast to avoid disagreeable consequences. We had already learned that the native population would amicably settle almost any difficulty for money, and here we were so clearly in the wrong that I quickly approved the expenditure of a few thousand dollars to support our apologies; in war there frequently arise such contingencies, requiring instant availability of funds. The War Department, recognizing this, gave to each theater commander considerable credits to be used when needed.
On the evening of the twenty-second I discussed the situation personally with General Fredendall and told him that the enemy was no longer capable of offensive action. I informed him that he was perfectly safe in taking any reasonable risk in launching local counterattacks that could be properly supported by his artillery. I was so certain of this evaluation that I told the corps commander that I would assume full responsibility for any disadvantage that might result from vigorous action on his part. Fredendall felt that the enemy had “one more shot in his locker” and believed that he should spend the next twenty-four hours in perfecting and strengthening his defenses, rather than in the attempt to concentrate enough strength for a counterattack in the direction of Kasserine. No one could quarrel violently with this decision; my own convictions and desires were based upon an anxiety to take instant advantage of the fleeting opportunity for trouncing the enemy before he could recover from his embarrassing position.
By next morning it became apparent to everybody that the German was beginning his retreat. The enemy moved rapidly by night and, favored again by cloud cover during the day, successfully withdrew a large part of his attacking force. However, the Allies all along the front now kept up a constant pressure and the enemy was soon pushed back to his original positions, from which he never again attempted to launch a serious counterattack.22
During the final few days of this battle General Alexander was on the ground and in command of the actual battle line. I quickly formed a great respect and admiration for his soldierly qualities, an esteem that continued to grow throughout the remainder of the war. Certain of our battle-front weaknesses, which favored early German success in the battle, were my responsibility. Had I immediately, upon the acceptance of French troops into the Allied command in November 1942, insisted unequivocally upon their battle-line subordination to General Anderson, later confusion would have been less. There would have been resentment and increased difficulty for a period, but the over-all effect would have been advantageous. Moreover, pending the closer approach of Montgomery’s army from the desert, I should have definitely limited the area on our southern flank in which the II Corps would be permitted to operate in strength. We were unquestionably attempting to do too much with too little by the southward extension of the II Corps front to include Gafsa.
That place, in itself, would not become important to us until the desert forces should approach the southern borders of Tunisia and active co-operation between the two armies become possible. However, it was the best position from which to cover, from the south, any raid or attack against the important airfield at Thelepte. We had a crying need for forward airfields and the best of all these was the one at Thelepte. It lay in a sandy plain, and operations from it were never interrupted by rain; only the occasional sandstorm impeded its use. Because of the advantages of this airfield, we placed on it large air formations with comparable quantities of supplies and repair facilities. A better disposition would have been to send to Gafsa only a reconnaissance detachment, and to keep defending forces farther to the rear. The holding of Gafsa tended to weaken other portions of the long front held by the II Corps, and since the U. S. 1st Armored Division was not held in one body for active and powerful counterattack, the whole situation presented obvious risks.
Technically, our embarrassment resulted from four principal causes. The first and vastly most important of these was the inescapable conditions resulting from failure in our long-shot gamble to capture Tunis quickly. This gamble had been made on my personal orders. Afterward, dispersed units could not quickly be brought together and prepared for the hostile reactions we were certain would follow. Had I been willing, at the end of November, to admit temporary failure and pass to the defensive, no attack against us could have achieved even temporary success.
The second major reason was faulty work by Intelligence agencies. Staffs were too prone to take one isolated piece of intelligence in which they implicitly believed and to shut their eyes to any contrary possibility. They decided that the German attack was to come through Fondouk, and although we had reconnaissance units in the Ousseltia Valley, near Fondouk, who insisted the German was not concentrating in that area, the Intelligence section blindly persisted in its conviction. This caused the army commander to make faulty dispositions.
The third reason was the failure to comprehend clearly the capabilities of the enemy and the best measures for meeting them. The situation on the II Corps front called for the holding of mountain passes with light reconnaissance and delaying elements, with the strongest possible mobile reserves immediately in rear to strike swiftly and in strength at any penetration of the mountain barrier. Instructions for the general nature of the defense were positive in this regard but local fears, and again faulty intelligence, led to a dispersion of the mobile reserves that rendered them ineffective when the attack came.23
A fourth cause was greenness, particularly among commanders. The American divisions involved had not had the benefit of the intensive training programs instituted in the United States following the actual outbreak of the war. They were mainly divisions that had been quickly shipped to the United Kingdom, and since transportation facilities had not yet acquired their later efficiency, they had been separated from their organic equipment for long periods. Training, during a major part of 1942, was for them a practical impossibility. Commanders and troops showed the effects of this, and although there was no lack of gallantry and fortitude, their initial effectiveness did not compare with that of the American divisions later brought into action after a full year’s intensive training.
These lessons were dearly bought, but they were valuable. Eventually the cost was reduced, since most of our personnel losses were in prisoners, whom we largely recovered at the end of the war. We suffered casualties in personnel and equipment, but by the time the enemy had succeeded in retiring to his former positions his losses in both categories were equal to ours. American losses from February 14 to 23 were 192 killed, 2624 wounded, 2459 prisoners and missing.24
The week of the hostile offensive was a wearing and anxious one. Whenever the initiative is lost to the enemy there is bound to be tension and worry, because it is always possible for anything to happen. No one escapes; in spite of confidence in the over-all situation and eventual outcome, there is always the possibility of local disasters.
The Kasserine battle marked the end of a phase of the campaign. With the defeat of the German attack it was obvious that his last chance of major offensive action was ended, but he did, within a short time, begin a series of savage local attacks against the British First Army in the north.25 All through March this bitter battling continued, the German attempting to deepen and strengthen his defensive zone covering Tunis and Bizerte, the British trying to hold and regain positions favoring a final smashing offensive. The incessant fighting and the length of the front to be covered by depleted formations finally compelled Alexander to use a part of the U. S. 1st Division to help the First Army. However, the German attacks were largely frontal and held no danger of the enemy’s achieving any momentous advantage. This certainty permitted us to resume the process of sorting and reorganizing our battle lines, improving our administration, and otherwise preparing for a major offensive as soon as weather conditions should be favorable.
From the close of the Kasserine battle our position steadily improved in a number of ways. First, as a result of the battle the entire American II Corps of four divisions was finally concentrated in the Tebessa region.26 There it could form a solid link between the Allied forces in northern Tunisia and the advancing Eighth Army, coming from the desert. Troops, commanders, and staffs gained a vast measure of battle wisdom that remained with them always.
Moreover, as a result of splendid action in Washington, an extra shipment of 5400 trucks had been brought into the theater. This shipment immeasurably improved our transport and supply situation and had a profound effect in all later operations. It was accomplished under circumstances that should give pause to those people who picture the War and Navy Departments as a mass of entangling red tape. The shipment demanded a special convoy at a time when both merchant shipping and escort vessels were at a premium. General Somervell happened to be visiting my headquarters and I explained to him our urgent need for this equipment. He said he could be loading it out of American ports within three days, providing the Navy Department could furnish the escorts. I sent a query to Admiral King, then in Casablanca, and within a matter of hours had from him a simple “Yes.”27 The trucks began arriving in Africa in less than three weeks after I made my initial request.
General Somervell was still at my headquarters when the message came from the War Department that the last of the trucks had been shipped. The telegram from Somervell’s assistant, Major General Wilhelm D. Styer, eloquently told the story of unending hours of intensive work to arrange this emergency shipment. In a plaintive final sentence it said, “If you should happen to want the Pentagon shipped over there, please try to give us about a week’s notice.”28
The tremendous value of this shipment appeared in our increased ability to supply the needs of the battle front and even more in our ability to transfer troops rapidly from one portion of the front to another. The later move of the entire U. S. II Corps from the Tebessa region to northern Tunisia would have been completely impossible without the presence of these additional trucks. At the same time our railway engineers, under the leadership of Brigadier General Carl Gray, were working miracles in improving the decrepit French line leading to the front. When we went into North Africa the railway could daily deliver a maximum of 900 tons of supplies. By introducing Yankee energy and modern American methods of operation Gray increased the daily tonnage to 3000, and this before he received a single extra engine or boxcar from the United States.
Another particularly pleasing development was the steadily growing strength and efficiency of our air forces, and the construction of suitable operating fields and bases.29 Still another was the speed with which the British forces in the desert opened up and began using the port in Tripoli, only recently captured.30 We now had definite assurance that the advance of the Eighth Army would not be stopped, as it had been so often stopped before, by lack of supplies.
A final advantage that accrued to us during this period was opportunity for establishing our whole system of command on a sound and permanent basis in accordance with the arrangements made at Casablanca. All air forces were integrated under Air Chief Marshal Tedder, with General Spaatz as his deputy; the ground command on the Tunisian front was placed under General Alexander.31 The latter, freed from the necessity of commanding also a single army, the handicap under which General Anderson labored, was able to devote his entire attention to daily tactical co-ordination.
Just after the first of March, I replaced Fredendall with Patton as commander of the II Corps.32 I had no intention of recommending Fredendall for reduction or of placing the blame for the initial defeats in the Kasserine battle on his shoulders, and so informed him. Several others, including myself, shared responsibility for our week of reverses. But morale in the II Corps was shaken and the troops had to be picked up quickly. For such a job Patton had no superior in the Army, whereas I believed that Fredendall was better suited for a training job in the States than he was for battle leadership. I recommended to General Marshall that Fredendall be given command of an army in the United States, where he became a lieutenant general.33
General Patton’s buoyant leadership and strict insistence upon discipline rapidly rejuvenated the II Corps and brought it up to fighting pitch. Moreover, the troops were now fortified by battle experience and had a much higher appreciation of the value of training, discipline, and speed in action. Our losses in tanks, personnel, and equipment were rapidly made good and all the eastern airfields were again in our possession and occupied by our fighter craft.
Winter conditions of weather and terrain in the desert were much better than those in the north, and the Eighth Army, under General Montgomery, was able to continue its advance to the westward with the purpose of making junction with the right of our forces in Tunisia. It was foreseen that General Montgomery’s principal battle to achieve this result would take place on the Mareth Line, a defensive position that had previously been constructed by the French along the Tunisian border and in which we now expected the Axis to make a determined defense.34 To assist General Montgomery in this battle, General Alexander ordered the American II Corps to concentrate the bulk of its strength in the general area of Gafsa and to push eastward from that location so as to draw off as much of Rommel’s forces as possible from the Eighth Army front. This maneuver had the desired effect, since Rommel could not afford to expose his line of communications and was forced to use a considerable portion of his strength to protect himself against this threat.
By the night of March 20, General Montgomery was ready to attack the Mareth Line.35 The fighting was severe but by a brilliant and rapid switch of forces in the midst of the battle he succeeded in outflanking and surprising the enemy and drove him precipitately to the northward. The left flank of the Eighth Army soon joined up with Patton’s II Corps, which had pushed aggressively to the eastward. At last all our troops were connected up in one single battle line.
I visited Montgomery soon after the Mareth battle. His Eighth Army was very colorful and probably the most cosmopolitan army to fight in North Africa since Hannibal. It included, in addition to English units, Highlanders, New Zealanders, Indians (including Gurkhas with their kukris—long, curved knives with which they beheaded their enemies), Poles, Czechs, Free French, Australians, and South Africans. Not all of these came as far as Tunisia. With the Eighth Army were American air squadrons, our first to see action in Africa against the Germans. They had participated in the campaign all the way from El Alamein.36 I fortunately had a chance to talk with the pilots and crews during my visit to Montgomery; later I was able to send to them some of the soldier luxuries that they had been denied during the long trip across the desert.
In an effort to cut off the Germans retreating from Montgomery’s front, General Alexander organized an attack to break through the pass at Fondouk and push eastward toward the sea. The left of the American II Corps was involved in this attack, but the entire operation was commanded by a British corps commander.37 The only American division available for participation was one that had had only sketchy training and had been involved for many weeks in protection of our line of communications, thus missing the opportunity to work together as a unit. The task assigned the American unit was a difficult one and the attack failed. A break-through was finally accomplished by British formations, but it was not particularly effective because the Germans had made good their retreat to the northward. General Sir John Crocker, the British corps commander, severely criticized to press representatives the failure of the American division, and for almost the only time during the African operations definite British-American recrimination resulted.38 It was disturbing, the more so because it was so unnecessary. With the help of Alexander, we quickly took steps to stop it. Nothing creates trouble between allies so often or so easily as unnecessary talk—particularly when it belittles one of them. A family squabble is always exaggerated beyond its true importance.
Although the outcome of this particular attack was disappointing, the rapid retreat of the Germans had the effect of shrinking the circumference of the enemy line, thus pinching out the American II Corps for employment elsewhere on the battle line.
Some discussion arose as to the suitability of the corps for participating effectively in the final battle. Alexander’s staff felt that a large portion should be sent back to the Constantine area for additional training. Admittedly some of the troops were still relatively green. However, both Patton and I were confident that the corps was now ready to act aggressively and to take an important sector in the battle line. For one thing the troops were at last angry—not only because of the rough handling they had received, but more so because of insulting and slighting comments concerning the fighting qualities of Americans, originated by German prisoners and given some circulation within the theater.
I had a personal interview with Alexander to insist upon the employment of the entire II Corps, as a unit.39 For this I had several reasons. In the first place, the bulk of the ground forces required by the Allies to defeat Germany would have to come from the United States. The need for battle training on a large scale was evident. Secondly, in all its prior battles the corps had been compelled to fight in small packets; never had it had a chance to exert its power as a unit. Thirdly, the morale of the corps had improved markedly since March 1 and it had a right to prove its own effectiveness as well as the quality of American arms.
Success would make the unit, and it would give a sense of accomplishment to the American people that they richly deserved in view of the strenuous efforts they had made thus far in the war. Out of victory participated in by both countries on a significant scale would come a sense of partnership not otherwise obtainable. The soldiers themselves were entitled to engage in an operation where for the first time conditions would favor instead of hamper and impede them. A real victory would give them a great élan for the sterner tests yet to come.
Alexander instantly concurred in my determination that the corps should be used in its entirety and as a unit. He proposed, and I agreed, that the best plan was to transfer the II Corps across the rear of the First Army and place it on the northern flank facing Bizerte. This involved a nicety in staff work in order to avoid entanglement with the British First Army’s supply lines, but Anderson’s and Patton’s staffs worked out the details so efficiently that no confusion resulted.40 It was a move that prewar staff colleges would have deemed an impossibility. But clockwork schedules and effective traffic control at crossroads characterized the whole movement.
At this time I made another change in the command of the II Corps. Major General Omar N. Bradley had reported to me in late February as an “inspector.” Aside from his outstanding personal qualifications, he had gained much experience during the March and early April fighting. The compelling reason for the change was to give General Patton the opportunity to go back to Seventh Army Headquarters and finish preparations for the Sicilian invasion, which was to take place as soon as possible after the completion of the African campaign. A second and less important reason, and the one given out, since manifestly the whole truth could not be hinted at for the moment, was that the II Corps operations would from then on feature infantry rather than tank tactics and so the change of its commander from a tank technician to an infantry expert was logical. Bradley took command on April 15, 1943, after part of the corps was already in position in the north.41
In the meantime General Montgomery continued to advance northward, until finally he pushed up to the line of Enfidaville, where he came up against a very strong enemy position which effectively blocked his further progress.42
However, the stage was now almost completely set for the final all-out effort against the enemy position. Improving weather was eagerly seized upon by the air forces to harass the enemy’s line of communications between Africa and Italy, and the Axis position grew more precarious. Under our growing air superiority our naval forces also pushed forward their bases and operations and added to the enemy’s difficulties. Our ground troops were confident and anxious to wind up the whole affair. The enemy still held some depth in the mountainous areas on his western flank, and the first move was to launch assaults calculated to drive him back to the edge of the Tunisian plain. These began on April 23, and all along the line satisfactory advances were made. Co-ordination between air and ground forces was immeasurably better than at the beginning of the campaign, and all of our assaults took place with effective aerial help. Our superiority in artillery was giving us a further advantage.43
By the time Alexander reached, on the west, the line from which he wished to launch his final thrust, it had become apparent that further attacks from the south by the Eighth Army would be costly and indecisive because of the nature of the terrain along the Enfidaville line. At the same time we confidently believed that the German would expect the main attack to be delivered by the Eighth Army, since that organization had established a brilliant reputation in its long pursuit across the Western Desert and the enemy would naturally expect us to use it for our knockout punch.
In the conviction, therefore, that the enemy would in any event keep strong forces in front of the Eighth Army, General Alexander quickly and secretly brought around from that flank several of the Eighth Army’s best divisions and attached them to the British First Army. These arrangements were completed in time to begin the final assault on May 5.44
The results were speedily decisive. On the left the American II Corps, with some detachments of French “Goumiers,” advanced magnificently through tough going and captured Bizerte on the seventh. Just to the southward the British First Army, under General Anderson, carrying out the main effort, was in Tunis at approximately the same time that the II Corps reached Bizerte.
During the final days of the Tunisian campaign two local battles in the north, one in the British sector and one in the American, gripped the interest of the entire theater. Both positions were exceedingly strong naturally and fiercely defended, and both were essential to us in our final drive for victory. The position in the British sector was Longstop—the battles for its possession from the beginning to the end of the African campaign probably cost more lives than did the fighting for any other spot in Tunisia. In the American sector the place was Hill 609, eventually captured by the 34th Division, to the intense satisfaction, particularly, of the American high command. This division had been denied opportunity for training to a greater degree than any other, and its capture of the formidable 609 was final proof that the American ground forces had come fully of age.
Following immediately upon the break-through, Alexander sent armored units of the British First Army rapidly forward across the base of the Bon Peninsula, where we believed the Germans might attempt to retreat to make a last stand in the manner of Bataan.45 Alexander’s swift action, regardless of the many thousands of enemy still fighting in confused packets along the front of the First Army, destroyed this last desperate hope of the enemy. From then on the operations were of a mopping-up variety. Some fighting continued until the twelfth but by the following day, except for a few stragglers in the mountains, the only living Germans left in Tunisia were safely within prison cages. The number of prisoners during the last week of the campaign alone reached 240,000, of which approximately 125,000 were German. Included in these captures was all that was left of the Afrika Korps and a number of other crack German and Italian units.46
Rommel himself escaped before the final debacle, apparently foreseeing the inevitable and earnestly desiring to save his own skin. The myth of his and Nazi invincibility had been completely destroyed. Von Arnim surrendered the German troops, and Field Marshal Messe, in nominal command of the whole force, surrendered the Italian contingent. When Von Arnim was brought through Algiers on his way to captivity, some members of my staff felt that I should observe the custom of bygone days and allow him to call on me.
The custom had its origin in the fact that mercenary soldiers of old had no real enmity toward their opponents. Both sides fought for the love of a fight, out of a sense of duty or, more probably, for money. A captured commander of the eighteenth century was likely to be, for weeks or months, the honored guest of his captor. The tradition that all professional soldiers are really comrades in arms has, in tattered form, persisted to this day.
For me World War II was far too personal a thing to entertain such feelings. Daily as it progressed there grew within me the conviction that as never before in a war between many nations the forces that stood for human good and men’s rights were this time confronted by a completely evil conspiracy with which no compromise could be tolerated. Because only by the utter destruction of the Axis was a decent world possible, the war became for me a crusade in the traditional sense of that often misused word.
In this specific instance, I told my Intelligence officer, Brigadier Kenneth Strong, to get any information he possibly could out of the captured generals but that, as far as I was concerned, I was interested only in those who were not yet captured. None would be allowed to call on me. I pursued the same practice to the end of the war. Not until Field Marshal Jodl signed the surrender terms at Reims in 1945 did I ever speak to a German general, and even then my only words were that he would be held personally and completely responsible for the carrying out of the surrender terms.
The outcome of the Tunisian campaign was of course eminently satisfactory, but the high command was so busily engaged in preparation for the Sicilian attack that little opportunity was available for celebration. However, a Victory Parade was held in Tunis on the twentieth to mark the end of the Axis Empire in Africa.
The very magnitude of our victory, at least of our captures, served to intensify our difficulties in preparing for the Sicilian affair. We had more than a quarter of a million prisoners corralled in Tunisia, where poor communications made feeding and guarding difficult and rapid evacuation impossible.47 But the end of the campaign did have the effect of freeing commanders and staffs from immediate operations and allowed them to turn their full attention to the matter next in hand. Preparatory planning had been going on ever since February in a special group attached to Allied Headquarters but operating under General Alexander. This group was now absorbed completely in General Alexander’s staff and the whole process of preparation was vastly speeded up.
The Tunisian victory was hailed with delight throughout the Allied nations. It clearly signified to friend and foe alike that the Allies were at last upon the march. The Germans, who had during the previous winter suffered also the great defeat of Stalingrad and had been forced to abandon their other offensives on the Russian front in favor of a desperate defense, were compelled after Tunisia to think only of the protection of conquests rather than of their enlargement.
Within the African theater one of the greatest products of the victory was the progress achieved in the welding of Allied unity and the establishment of a command team that was already showing the effects of a growing confidence and trust among all its members. It is easy to minimize the obstacles that always obstruct progress in developing efficient command mechanisms for large allied forces. Some are easy to recognize, such as those relating to differences in equipment, training and tactical doctrine, staff procedures and methods of organization. But these are overshadowed by national prides and prejudices.
In modern war, with its great facilities for quickly informing populations of battlefield developments, every little difference is magnified, and a soldier fighting for his life is likely to be a very temperamental organism. Even tried veterans, normally selfless and serene, can react suddenly and explosively to a headline story favoring, in their opinion, another nationality. The problem is delicate, tricky, and important—but success in allied ventures can be achieved if the chief figures in the government and in the field see the necessities of the situation and refuse to violate the basic principle of unity, either in public or in the confidence of the personal contacts with subordinates and staffs. Immediate and continuous loyalty to the concept of unity and to allied commanders is basic to victory. The instant such commanders lose the confidence of either government or of the majority of their principal subordinates, they must be relieved.
This was the great Allied lesson of Tunisia; equally important, on the technical side, was the value of training. Thorough technical, psychological, and physical training is one protection and one weapon that every nation can give to its soldiers before committing them to battle, but since war always comes to a democracy as an unexpected emergency, this training must be largely accomplished in peace. Until world order is an accomplished fact and universal disarmament a logical result, it will always be a crime to excuse men from the types and kinds of training that will give them a decent chance for survival in battle. Many of the crosses standing in Tunisia today are witnesses to this truth.
