General Dwight D. Eisenhower and General Omar Bradley looked down at the huge map of France in Bradley’s headquarters in the town of Laval. Bright sunlight streamed through the open windows and outside the sound of jeeps could be heard running up and down the street. Both generals wore tan summer uniforms with no ties and the top button of their shirts undone.
Ike shook his head and sighed. “I hate to change a plan once it’s been agreed upon and is in the process of being implemented, but I guess we have to.”
Bradley shrugged. “If we don’t, the people of Paris might very well be massacred by the Krauts.”
Ike looked at the city of Paris on the map. “If only the damned Parisians could have stayed calm for two more weeks. Then we would have handed their city to them on a silver platter.”
“I guess they’re anxious to get the Krauts out of their hair, sir.”
“Damn!” said Ike, because he didn’t want to send troops to Paris to liberate it. He was afraid the city would be destroyed in the ensuing battle, and the diversion of troops and equipment would slow down his drive to the Rhine. But the people of Paris had begun an insurrection, and word had been received that the Germans were putting it down harshly. The only thing to do was send in some troops quickly. “How many Germans do we estimate are in Paris right now?”
“About twenty thousand, sir.”
“And how many maquis?”
“About the same number, sir, but the Germans have tanks and heavy weapons, whereas the maquis only have rifles. My information is that some of the Germans are evacuating the city already. We might be able to take Paris with one armored division.”
Ike crossed his arms and looked down at the map. “The President has advised me that for political reasons we should let Paris be liberated by a French unit.”
“Send Duloc.”
“You think he’s the right man?”
“He’s the best tank commander they’ve got, and I’ve heard that he’s on his way to Paris anyway.”
“What! Who gave him permission?”
“Nobody, sir, but General Gerow reported a French armored unit moving east of his position. He went out to interrogate the commander, who told him he was heading for Paris. Gerow ordered the commander back and the commander obeyed orders, but who knows how many other French soldiers are on their way to Paris right now?”
“What a mess,” Ike said. “Well, I guess you might as well call Duloc and give him the green light. But I want some Americans to go with him so we’ll know what he’s doing all the time.”
“I’ll set up a liaison unit of men who speak French. That ought to do it.”
“Yes.” Ike looked at the map and rubbed his chin with his fingers. “I think maybe you should send in an American division to make sure. Duloc will liberate Paris officially, but our boys will be there to back him up.”
“Okay,” Bradley said. He looked at the map to see which American division he should send. “How about the 33rd?”
“The 33rd will be fine,” Ike replied. He pinched his lips together and raised his eyes pensively to the window.
“Anything wrong, sir?”
Ike turned to Bradley. “I’m worried about Duloc. The French haven’t been very good at following orders until now, and there’s no reason to expect them to change suddenly. I want you to make sure that your liaison unit stays in close touch with your headquarters and reports Duloc’s every move to you personally.”
“Will do, sir.”