Nevertheless, the idea that this was—or should be—the intention was sedulously kept alive at SHAEF by Morgan (COSSAC himself) for, as Deputy Chief of Staff, he was well placed to continue the advocacy of his rejected plan. Morgan’s admiration for Eisenhower (he was fond of saying, “There was a man sent from God and his name was Ike”) was matched only by his antipathy towards Montgomery. He regarded the ‘pulling-in of the left flank’ as an example of what he called ‘Montgomery’s incurable defensive-mindedness’ and he harped on this theme at every opportunity.

Because of his paternal association with the original plan, Morgan was regarded at SHAEF as the expert on the operation, and he found a fellow-advocate of the ‘break-out at Caen’ theory in the Deputy Supreme Commander. Tedder bore Montgomery no personal animosity, but he shared both Morgan’s conviction that Montgomery was too cautious, and Leigh-Mallory’s concern about the importance of gaining the airfield sites south-east of Caen. With the two senior British officers at SHAEF thinking along these lines, it is not surprising that Eisenhower and Bedell Smith came to consider that Caen was the proper place for the major offensive. From that, it was a short step to the belief that this was in fact what Montgomery intended.

Eisenhower accepted this view the more readily because it fitted into his own conception of war. His military thinking, like that of most American commanders, was essentially straightforward and aggressive, so much so that it might almost have been expressed in the simple formula, ‘Everybody attacks all the time.’{270} He was uneasy if any substantial part of his force was not gaining ground. Like Marshall, he was an advocate of the direct approach and the straight punch. His faith lay in the sheer smashing power of superior force. The acquiring of that superiority was to him primarily a matter of logistics, of amassing resources of such magnitude that the enemy’s counter-measures could be disregarded. When Caen was still untaken by the middle of June, Eisenhower feared that, because the rate of build-up seemed unlikely to provide this absolute superiority, there was grave danger of the Allies being locked in the bridgehead. His solution was to keep the Germans tactically unsettled by repeated attacks all along the front, thus gradually thinning and stretching their line until at last it would snap.

This policy of attrition was the antithesis of Montgomery’s approach.

He was an equally firm believer in the employment of superior power; indeed he had become notorious for his refusal to commit his troops to the offensive without it. But he differed from Eisenhower about the method by which that superiority should be gained, and about the manner in which it should be employed. Montgomery’s inclination was to manoeuvre the Germans out of position and off-balance by compelling them either to disperse their forces defensively, or, better still, to concentrate them in the wrong place. The latter course involved the risk that they might use this concentration to disrupt his plan, unless an absolutely sound defence was maintained in any sector which they could threaten. It meant too that he must always hold sufficient strength there to keep the enemy unbalanced. Having gained the necessary relative superiority, his intention was to employ it not for a broad-fronted offensive, but for one concentrated blow; to cut the cordon, not to stretch it; to cut it with such force and momentum that there could be no question of the enemy’s recovering and forming another line.

Montgomery was more concerned to make the Germans strategically unbalanced than to keep them tactically unsettled. What ground the Germans held, or how thoroughly they were dug in, was less important to him than the over-all disposition of their forces. He was not interested in driving them back to the Seine. He was determined to envelop them and destroy them in Normandy so that they should not be able to oppose his march into Germany.{271}

In pursuit of his main strategic purpose Montgomery never wavered, but he did modify and change the means by which he sought to achieve it. After the war, however, over-anxious to defend himself against American criticism, he asserted that “the operations developed in June, July and August exactly as planned.” In making this claim, Montgomery does himself less than justice, for his real genius as a commander was shown in the way he varied his day to day policy to meet the unpredictable situations caused by bad weather, by Hitler’s suicidal policy of fighting for every yard, and by tactical’ failure or slowness on the part of both British and American troops.

At the start of the invasion, Montgomery had believed that Second Army, in order to fulfil its role of ‘protecting and threatening,’ would have to secure the area south-east of Caen at the outset. In the first week, however, when Rommel had to commit his panzer divisions defensively, the capture of the Caen area became more difficult, but also less necessary, for the German armour was already pinned and contained there. Thus, although Montgomery on June 8th had ordered Dempsey “to develop operations with all possible speed for the capture of Caen,” he quickly modified this order when he saw that its fulfilment was likely to exhaust Dempsey’s immediate resources. Montgomery was still anxious to get Caen, but not at the cost of so weakening Second Army that it would lose the power to maintain the threat to Paris.

In these circumstances, the only reason for hastening the capture of the ground south-east of Caen was to secure sites for more airfields. Upon this question Montgomery and the air commanders had never seen eye to eye. At a planning conference long before D-Day, Leigh-Mallory had urged most strongly that “Second Army should push east at an earlier stage than is envisaged in the present forecast of operations.” De Guingand, replying on Montgomery’s behalf, said, “The C.-in C. is not prepared to commit himself on this point as he has in mind the possibility that the enemy might concentrate his forces on this flank.”{272}

The conversion of this possibility into a reality in the first week of the invasion brought about prematurely the strategic situation which Montgomery’s plan required, and made it difficult, if not impossible, for him to meet Leigh-Mallory’s request that Second Army should secure the Caen airfield zone without delay. Montgomery considered that from bases in England and from the fifteen airfields which would be operational in Normandy by June 21st the Tactical Air Forces could meet the Army’s immediate requirements for protection and support. The scale of effort might not be quite as great as Leigh-Mallory had hoped, but then the Luftwaffe was far less active than had been feared. To Montgomery the Caen airfields were means, not ends. From the viewpoint of the land operations, the need for greater air support was not so pressing that he was prepared to distort his whole strategy in order to secure it.

This view was rejected and resented by Leigh-Mallory and by the Commander of the Second British Tactical Air Force, Air Marshal Sir Arthur Coningham. They tended to present their claims for more airfields almost as demands of right which Montgomery should be obliged to fulfil. This attitude sprang from a genuine eagerness to play their full part in the battle, but there were other factors involved. In spite of its own matchless achievements, the R.A.F. still suffered from a ‘junior service’ complex, and was forever eager to assert its right to equality and independence. Accordingly, Montgomery’s attitude to the Caen airfields was regarded by Coningham and other airmen as a further example of the Army’s tendency to regard the Air Force as an ‘auxiliary arm.’

This friction was accentuated by the personal conflict between Montgomery and Coningham. At Alamein they had worked in close association at a joint Army/Air H.Q., but this ‘honeymoon’ had ended during the advance to Tripoli. Because the nature of the campaign made it necessary for him to be well forward at his Tactical H.Q. Montgomery left it largely to his staff to deal with the Air Force. Thus he appeared to treat the air commanders (Coningham and later Broadhurst){273} as advisers, not equals. It was his battle. They were supporting him. This was resented, and so was the personal publicity which he deliberately courted as a means of enhancing the pride of the Eighth Army in itself. This resentment had grown more bitter after Montgomery’s return to England in 1944. It was he who was publicly fêted and idolised, not Coningham. Public acclaim was directed almost entirely at the Eighth Army and its aggressive commander. There was little but a passing round of applause for Coningham and the Desert Air Force. The headlines stung. Speaking to war correspondents one day, Coningham burst out, “It’s always ‘Monty’s Army,’ ‘Monty’s Victory,’ Monty Strikes Again.’ You never say ‘Coningham’s Air Force.’”

Knowing how sensitive Coningham was, Montgomery would have been wise to humour him by due consultation. Instead, however, as soon as the broad plan had been settled, Montgomery went off on a ‘morale-raising’ tour of camps and factories (a tour which the Air Force regarded as a personal publicity stunt), and nearly all the detailed negotiations with the airmen were handled by de Guingand, his Chief of Staff. Montgomery seldom attended conferences, and when he did deal direct with the Air Force, he turned to Leigh-Mallory. This was strictly correct, but it was tactless and it would have prejudiced the formulation of a joint plan, if de Guingand had not been so popular personally and so skilful in negotiation. Montgomery would have been a much more successful commander if he had spent as much effort in enlisting the co-operation of the Air Force as he did in winning the loyalty of his troops and the acclaim of the public.

These petty clashes of personality could be ignored if they had not impinged upon operations in Normandy. Coningham saw himself as an ‘air general,’ who would mould the shape of the land battle if only he was given the opportunity, and he regarded the failure to take the Caen airfield zone as a denial of his opportunity. Thus there persisted in Air Force circles and at SHAEF a powerful ‘lobby’ which favoured the break-out at Caen policy, and which embarrassed Montgomery since it threatened to undermine his plan of campaign.

 

On the evening of June 23rd Hausser, commanding 2nd SS Panzer Corps, reported to Dollmann, the commander of Seventh Army. The two formidable divisions, 9th and 10th SS, with which he had halted the Red Army’s offensive at Tarnopol in April, were back in France with orders from the Führer to drive the British into the sea. Their first trains, said Hausser, had left Poland on June 12th. Four days later they had reached Lorraine, but there they had stopped, because the lines farther west were too badly damaged to handle heavy traffic. The two divisions were now making a laborious 400-mile journey to Normandy by road, and they would not reach their assembly area around Alençon before the 25th. This was disturbing, for Dollmann knew that the lull imposed by the storm could not last much longer. The British were about to attack in the Caen sector and he had no reserves save those which Hitler had earmarked for the counter-stroke to Bayeux.

Time was running against Dollmann even faster than he feared. Allied Intelligence was already aware that 1st SS had passed through Paris, that 2nd SS had reached St. Lô, and that Hausser’s Corps had detrained at Nancy and Bar-le-Duc and was moving by road. The weather might blind reconnaissance aircraft, but the Resistance and special Allied agents were watching every route to Normandy. Their reports left little doubt that Rommel was accumulating a substantial striking force. The smooth development of Montgomery’s strategy demanded that Dempsey should draw this force into battle at Caen before Bradley attacked south from the base of the Cotentin at the end of the month. Consequently, although the weather was still unfriendly and the build-up of ammunition was five days behind schedule, the start of the Second Army offensive west of Caen was fixed for June 26th.

The plan was that VIII British Corps (O’Connor) should make the main thrust midway between Tilly and Caen. The 15th Scottish Division was to seize a bridgehead across the Odon and create a firm base on the broad ridge between that river and the Orne. Then, while the 43rd Division helped the Scotsmen to consolidate their gains, the 11th Armoured Division would attack south-east, cross the Orne and establish itself astride the Caen-Falaise road on the high ground between Bretteville-sur-Laize and Bourguebus. When Caen was thus threatened with envelopment, I Corps was to intensify the squeeze by taking Carpiquet airfield, west of the city, and by thrusting south from the ‘airborne bridgehead’ east of the Orne. In preparation for O’Connor’s attack, the 49th Division (of XXX Corps) was to capture Rauray ridge on the previous day, and thus protect the right flank of 15th Scottish. Having taken Rauray, XXX Corps was to exploit southwards through Noyers to Aunay-sur-Odon.

The start was inauspicious. Delayed by a thick ground mist, the 49th Division was still a mile short of Rauray on the evening of June 25th. Heavy rain came during the night and before dawn O’Connor learned that the air forces based on Britain were grounded by bad weather. There would be no bombing to neutralise enemy strongholds on his left flank. Nevertheless the order to attack was confirmed, for if Rommel was to be forestalled, Montgomery could not afford to wait even another day.

Two hours after dawn on the 26th the 15th Scottish Division, with the 31st Armoured Brigade, moved into their first battle under a leaden and threatening sky. Ahead of them the barrage rolled across sodden cornfields and dripping hedges. A minefield checked the tanks but the infantry tramped stolidly on across the Caen-Tilly road and fought their way into the string of hamlets around Cheux, from which a mobile column of the 11th Armoured Division was to make a dash for the Odon bridges. Mines on the outskirts of Cheux, plus mortar-fire and wreckage in the village, delayed the armour, and gave the Germans a chance to recover from the bombardment. Southwards from Cheux the undulating fields were swept by fire from Rauray and from the villages and woods along the north bank of the Odon. The troops of 12th SS, who were holding this sector, fought with a tenacity and a ferocity seldom equalled and never excelled during the whole campaign. The armour was soon halted, and in the middle of the afternoon the reserve brigade of 15th Scottish went through to clear the way to the Odon. This attack started in the midst of a torrential downpour, and the routes through the minefield were soon troughs of mud which reduced the forward movement of supporting arms to a crawl. The right wing of the new attack was checked by opposition from Rauray, but on the left the Scotsmen splashed on to reach the Caen-Villers-Bocage railway at Colleville, some four miles south of the morning’s start-line and one mile from the Odon.

This was the limit of the day’s progress, but it was more than enough to set Dietrich clamouring for support. That evening he reported to Dollmann, “If further reinforcements are not sent up to-night a breakthrough on both sides of Cheux cannot be prevented.” Two battalions of 1st SS had been promised to him, but they were immobilised near Thury Harcourt without fuel. On the 25th Dietrich had asked for help from 2nd SS Panzer Corps, but Rommel had insisted that its divisions must move that night to their concentration area south-west of Caumont in preparation for his great offensive to Bayeux. Now that the British onslaught had gathered momentum, Rommel relented. On the evening of the 26th he gave orders that “everything which can be assembled by General Hausser must be thrown into the fight.”{274} Hausser’s own troops were not to be committed, but the panzer divisions on the flanks of the breakthrough (the 2nd and 21st) must each furnish a tank battalion; 2nd SS would send a battlegroup from St. Lô and the two brigades of multiple-mortars would be switched from the American sector and from east of the Orne to provide supporting fire.

By the morning of June 27th, however, the German command, surprised that there had been no further British attack during the night, was congratulating itself on having gained “a good defensive victory.” Dietrich reported that he was making “a counter-attack with 80 tanks in the direction of Cheux,” and so Hausser was ordered not to move north of Aunay, and to be ready to carry out the original Bayeux plan.

The Germans were premature in their optimism. Their armoured counter-attack, disorganised by heavy shelling, broke on the anti-tank screen which flanked the Scottish salient; it did not even prevent the 49th from capturing Rauray, nor did it distract O’Connor from his assault across the Odon. A bridge was captured intact, and by the morning of the 28th the main strength of the 11th Armoured Division was over the river and its tanks were probing southwards.

This advance created fresh consternation at Seventh Army H.Q. and early on the 28th the order went out that “2nd SS Panzer Corps must move immediately to clean up the enemy penetrations south of Cheux.” As only 9th SS had reached the forward area, Hausser proposed that he should fight a containing action during the next two days, while he assembled a force powerful enough to cut the British corridor by an attack from either flank. But Dollmann did not dare to wait. He was already panic-stricken, for Hitler had ordered a court-martial inquiry into the fall of Cherbourg and the verdict was not difficult to forecast. Overcome by anxiety, Dollmann collapsed and later that morning he died.{275} This created a command crisis, since von Rundstedt and Rommel by this time were on their way to Berchtesgaden for a conference with Hitler. Thus the German forces in Normandy were bereft of their three senior commanders just when they were most in need of strong and authoritative direction. There was no one there to countermand Dollmann’s dying order that Hausser must strike without delay.

Hausser’s endeavour to obey was frustrated by the British, who kept attacking to widen and deepen their corridor. South of the Odon a battalion of 15th Scottish captured a second bridge intact, but all attempts to link up with it from the north failed. The Germans gained some minor successes with local counter-attacks; yet they were not able to make any major riposte, even though elements of six panzer divisions were committed to battle during the day. By the evening Dempsey knew that the Germans had begun to dip into their strategic reserves, for both the 1st and 2nd SS Divisions had been identified. Moreover, Allied reconnaissance aircraft reported that on almost every road leading to the Odon Valley, motorised columns had been braving the daylight, protected far more heavily than usual by flak and fighters.

In these circumstances, Dempsey decided that O’Connor should not attempt to cross the Orne until he had consolidated his position north of the Odon. There the corridor was no more than a mile and a half wide and the only road by which he could supply the Odon bridgehead was under steady fire. The western flank was clearly the most vulnerable sector, for the ridge which ran past Rauray to Cheux provided a natural approach. Here, therefore, O’Connor deployed his anti-tank guns, tanks and artillery in depth and awaited the German onslaught.

Hausser intended to begin with a holding attack against the Odon bridgehead by 10th SS (reinforced by a regiment of 1st SS); then, as soon as this diversion was under way, he would launch his main assault against the western flank of the salient, using the equivalent of two SS panzer divisions. This force would attack along the ridge to Cheux and link up with a subsidiary thrust from the east. In view of the narrowness of the corridor, there was a chance that this plan might succeed, if only the cloudy weather would continue. But dull or bright, the attack had to be launched early on June 29th. That was Hitler’s order.

The fateful morning was fine and the R.A.F. was in action early. Before 10 o’clock Hausser was reporting, “The offensive cannot begin until the afternoon. Our concentrations are under continual artillery and air bombardment.” But the afternoon brought no respite: “1340 hours. The enemy is causing heavy losses by fighter-bomber attacks...the panzer divisions cannot bring up all their tanks owing to lack of fuel. “It was 2.30 p.m. before the attack on the Odon bridgehead could begin, and by then it was too late. During the morning the 11th Armoured Division had gained possession of Hill 112, midway between the Odon and the Orne, and from this vantage point heavy and accurate shellfire was directed against all enemy movement. Even as a diversion this German attack miscarried, for on Rauray ridge that afternoon an officer of 9th SS was taken prisoner complete with a map and notebook which set out Hausser’s plan. Thus forewarned, 15th Scottish was braced to meet the assault which materialised at six o’clock, but it came in with only half the planned strength, for artillery fire had disorganised the remainder. During the battle which raged from copse to hedgerow throughout the evening half a dozen tanks penetrated almost to Cheux, but the Scottish battalions stood firm and the German infantry which sought to follow the armour was driven back. Before dark the SS troops had been routed and the lonely tanks had been destroyed. Throughout the night the British gunners continued to shell the woods and villages in which the Germans were attempting to reassemble for a fresh move.

This shelling was so effective that no attack developed against the corridor during the 30th, but the Germans kept it under heavy fire, especially from mortars, and directed their offensive energies against the Odon bridgehead. There they were able to regain Hill 112 and the village of Gavrus, for the British armour had been withdrawn into reserve north of the Odon on Dempsey’s order. But that evening Hausser (now in command of Seventh Army) acknowledged defeat when he told Rommel’s H.Q., “The counter-offensive by 1st and 2nd SS Panzer Corps has had to be temporarily suspended in the face of intensive enemy artillery fire and supporting fire of unprecedented ferocity from naval units....The tenacious enemy resistance will prevent our counteroffensive from having any appreciable effect.”

Hausser, therefore, proposed that he should withdraw from Caen in order to “husband the resources of the panzer divisions and create a defensive line commensurate with our infantry strength.” At midnight on June 30th Speidel telephoned to say that the evacuation of Caen would be ordered “as soon as authorisation is received from the Supreme Command.” But the hope of obtaining any such authorisation had been scotched twenty-four hours earlier when Hitler ‘conferred’ with von Rundstedt and Rommel.

 

At Berchtesgaden on June 29th, Rommel had proposed to Hitler that Seventh Army should fight a rear-guard action back to the Seine, and that the armies in Southern France should be withdrawn to help create a new line along the Seine and across to Switzerland. The latest British offensive had been stopped only by committing his entire strategic reserve. If the Wehrmacht did not begin to withdraw from Normandy immediately, Seventh Army would be destroyed and Fifteenth Army would be powerless to repulse any second landing.

Neither fact nor logic could prevail upon Hitler. He admitted that “the overpowering aerial superiority of the enemy and his very effective naval artillery limit the possibilities of a large-scale attack on our part,” but he still spoke hopefully of another offensive (“dependent on when troops and supplies can be brought up”). He would not hear of any withdrawal, not even of tactical adjustments of the line for better defence. He appeared to be encouraged by the outcome of the Odon Battle, regarding it as proof that the Allies could be prevented from breaking out. “We must not allow mobile warfare to develop,” said Hitler, “since the enemy surpasses us by far in mobility....Therefore everything depends on our confining him to his bridgehead, by building up a front to block him off, and then on fighting a war of attrition to wear him down and force him back.”{276}

He proclaimed that he would outstrip the Allied build-up and win the battle of supply. Dönitz and Göring must intensify their attacks on Allied shipping “with every possible weapon.” They must lay “more mines and still more mines in the Bay of the Seine with the tenacity of a bulldog.” Seventh Army would be supplied by means of “several strong anti-aircraft highways, protected by a large number of flak emplacements and covered by fighter patrols.” As usual Hitler’s plans outran his resources. Dönitz replied that in the Channel area he had only twelve E-boats and eight Schnorkel-equipped U-boats. Sperrle, commanding Air Fleet III, pointed out that he would need “an additional 1,200 to 1,400 fighters” if the supply routes were to be adequately protected. (The total day-fighter strength of the Luftwaffe on all fronts was only 1,523, and one-third of these were already in France.) Nevertheless, Hitler upheld his plan with promises about miraculous weapons and gave the customary injunction to “hold out in all circumstances.”

The two Field-Marshals, says Blumentritt, returned to France “angry and disgruntled,” but committed to a policy of aggressive and unyielding defence, the futility of which was made more than ever apparent on the very day of their return. On July 1st the Allied Air Forces were weatherbound. That day Hausser made one last attempt to cut off the Odon salient by a thrust from the west. His assault, by elements of four SS panzer divisions, was heavy and sustained, but it was broken by the stout resistance of 15th Scottish and the 49th, and by artillery fire which almost made up for the absence of air power.

That night von Rundstedt warned Keitel that this was the writing on the wall. “What shall we do?” cried the despairing Keitel. “What shall we do?”

“Make peace, you fools,” said von Rundstedt, “what else can you do?”{277}

Keitel, the tell-tale toady, ran straight to Hitler, who happened to be conferring with Field-Marshal Gunther von Kluge at that very moment. Hitler’s reaction was surprisingly mild, lie merely wrote what von Rundstedt regarded as ‘a nice letter,’ telling him that von Kluge would take his place.

This appointment was not altogether fortuitous, for von Kluge had long been one of Hitler’s favourites. In 1940-1 he had commanded Fourth Army in the break-through to the Channel and the drive to Moscow. In the next two years, as C.-in-C., Army Group Centre, he had gained a reputation (not wholly warranted) for ‘victorious defence’ and had retained Hitler’s confidence by accepting outrageous orders when others demurred. To this command he was about to return, after an absence of nine months following a motor accident, when Hitler sent him to succeed von Rundstedt.

Yet von Kluge was neither as resolute nor as loyal as Hitler believed. At Army Group Centre he had fallen under the spell of his Chief of Staff, von Tresckow, an ardent anti-Nazi, who had striven to induce the senior commanders on the Eastern Front to rise and denounce Hitler’s strategy. Knowing that von Kluge had accepted a ‘gratuity’ of RM 250,000 (£20,000){278} tax free from the Führer’s private purse, von Tresckow had endeavoured to shame his chief into supporting the insurrection. Several times he had led von Kluge to the point of open revolt, but, whenever the time came for action, the Field-Marshal had faltered. Von Kluge had refused to be a party to the Putsch which members of his staff had planned in March 1943, but he had been prepared to join in overthrowing the Nazi régime, if the attempt to assassinate Hitler by blowing up his aircraft had succeeded. Intellectually von Kluge had long since joined the opposition and only his oath had kept him in uneasy allegiance to Hitler. When he arrived at St. Germain on July 4th, he seemed to Blumentritt to be “cheerful and confident...indeed almost gay about the prospects,” but in his heart there was a ceaseless conflict between his pledge to Hitler and his duty to Germany.

 

The Battle of the Odon destroyed whatever chance the Germans had had of launching a counter-stroke to Bayeux, and accentuated the maldistribution of their forces. By his timely thrust Montgomery compelled them to commit their armoured reserves piecemeal and in haste; then by assuming the timely defensive he was able to inflict upon the SS Panzer divisions a costly defeat; and finally, by withdrawing his armour into reserve at the height of the battle, he re-created the threat of a major offensive in the Caen sector. At the end of June, of the eight panzer divisions in Normandy, seven and a half were engaged in halting the advance of Second Army. Although Rommel (in his Weekly Report of July 2nd) rightly anticipated that the Americans were about to make “a concentrated attack in the St. Lô-Coutances area,” he did not dare to’ switch any armour there, except the battered rump of Panzer Lehr and the battlegroup of 2nd SS which had been involved at Rauray. The real danger zone was the Orne Valley, because, he said, “after taking possession of the area around Caen, the enemy’s plan will be to advance on Paris.”

Two days earlier, in a directive to Bradley and Dempsey, Montgomery had set out his plan. After restating his general intention of holding on the left and breaking out on the right, he wrote, “We must retain such balance and poise in our dispositions that there is never any need to react to enemy moves or thrusts; the enemy can do what he likes; we will proceed with our plan.” Defining Bradley’s task, he said, “First U.S. Army will pivot on the left in the Caumont area and swing southwards and eastwards to the general line Caumont-Vire-Mortain-Fougères.” When this line was reached one American corps would turn round the corner into the Brittany Peninsula, and the remainder of the Army was to “direct a strong right wing, in a wide sweep south of the Bocage country towards successive objectives as follows: A. Laval-Mayenne, B. Le Mans-Alençon.” These operations, which were due to begin on July 3rd, “should be carried out with the greatest drive and energy. There must be no pause until the Army has swung up on the line Caumont-Fougères. Thereafter the less delays the better.”

The Americans now had four corps with fourteen divisions ranged along a 50-mile front which was held by six German divisions,{279} with another (2nd SS) in reserve. Thus Bradley had a marked advantage in numbers and fire-power, but his front was so constricted by natural obstacles that he could not bring his superiority to bear. On his left, he was blocked by the deep valley of the Vire and by the enemy’s stubborn hold on St. Lô through which all the main roads ran. In the centre for fifteen miles his troops were confronted with the treacherous alluvial swamps of the lower Vire and the Taute. Across these inundations there was only one firm road—leading from Carentan to Périers—and this passed through a bottleneck of dry ground barely a mile and a half wide. On the Army’s right flank, a bridgehead had been gained south of the flooded Douve in mid-June, but this foothold could not be exploited easily, since the way southward was barred by a group of steep and thickly wooded hills, clustered about the important road-junction of La Haye du Puits. Although the Germans were strongly entrenched on these hills, it seemed to Bradley that this was the only sector where he could bring any large force into action. He planned, therefore, that VIII U.S. Corps with four divisions should strike the first and major blow on this flank. He would then develop a general offensive with VII and XIX Corps: the former to thrust south from Carentan, and the latter to gain a bridgehead over the Vire and take St. Lô by envelopment.

From the start VIII Corps encountered the most stubborn opposition, for as usual the defence was stiffened by “a direct order from the Führer not to withdraw an inch.”{280} This served to hold up the immediate American advance but at the cost of draining the long-term strength of the defenders. The terrain around La Haye was ideal for an economical delaying action, but Hitler compelled his troops to stand firm until they were destroyed by American fire or overrun. The cost was emphasised every day in the reports of 84th Corps to Seventh Army: “July 6th, 1905 hours. The enemy controls the air to such an extent that movement on the roads is impossible....The enemy artillery, guided by aerial observation, is able to destroy our infantry in their defensive positions without exposing itself to any kind of retaliation. Thus we lose one and a half to two battalions every day.”

No help was available from the Luftwaffe, for its primary effort was devoted to the protection of Hitler’s ‘anti-aircraft highways.’ That evening Hausser urged Rommel to switch the Luftwaffe’s centre of concentration to the American front; “otherwise the ground forces will be slaughtered.” Rommel replied, “To-day there were 450 planes in the air and they simply could not get through.”

On July 7th the Germans gained some success with a counter-attack but that afternoon 84th Corps reported: “The troops are completely disorganised owing to severe losses. The principle of putting everything into the ‘Main Line of Resistance’ causes units to be mixed up. Stragglers are picked up and pushed into the line anywhere. Several units have been merged and re-established. The heavy losses continue....The struggle cannot be maintained with the present forces for any length of time.”

Nevertheless, La Haye held out until July 8th. After seven days of severe fighting, the Germans had been driven back only five miles and they still held the hills south of the town. Meantime, VII Corps had found it even more difficult to break through the slender bottleneck on the Carentan-Périers road. Here there was no scope for local manoeuvre and little room to deploy artillery. The way was barred by mines and felled trees, by paratroops and SS men. Daily gains of a few hundred yards were made only at heavy cost. After nine days the attack down this road was abandoned.

Farther east on July 7th there had been little immediate opposition when XIX Corps crossed the Vire seven miles north of St. Lô, but the extension of this bridgehead was restricted by inundations. When the Americans tried to exploit southwards, they were halted at Pont Hébert and they could not develop the western arm of the pincer movement which had been designed to squeeze the Germans out of St. Lô. By July 10th it was evident that First Army’s offensive could not gain sufficient momentum to make an early break-out.

 

In sympathy with these American operations, Dempsey had maintained sufficient pressure from the Odon salient to prevent the withdrawal of 2nd SS Panzer Corps, and had redoubled his efforts to secure Caen. By the start of July all the German commanders from Dietrich to von Rundstedt were agreed that the city was untenable, but the personal intervention of Hitler denied the British the just military reward of the Odon battle. Thus, Dempsey was compelled to order a frontal attack on Caen, because, without command of this German pivot and the roads which led through it, he could not deploy sufficient strength to hold the German armour on the Second Army front.

The first move was an attack by the Canadians against Carpiquet on July 4th. The village was soon taken but on the airfield troops of 12th SS resisted every assault. The sustained tenacity of this defence led Dempsey to believe that the main assault on Caen could not be carried through rapidly and economically without the aid of Bomber Command. Harris agreed to ‘turn on the heavies,’ but rightly insisted that, in case some aircraft should bomb short, there must be a safety margin of 6,000 yards between the bomb-line and the foremost British troops. This meant that the target area could not cover the belt of fortified villages (some three miles from the northern edge of Caen), in which the Germans had been entrenched for the past month, but would be confined to the northern sector of the city itself where the Germans had no important defences. Dempsey accepted this, for he hoped the bombing of this zone would cut the enemy’s forward troops off from reinforcements and supplies and so disorganise them that they would be incapable of waging a fight from street to street. But he was less interested in the destruction of enemy material than he was in gaining moral ascendency.

On the evening of July 7th, 467 Lancasters and Halifaxes dropped 2,560 tons of bombs on the northern outskirts of Caen.{281} At dawn next morning, greatly heartened by this massive display of air power, I Corps attacked with three divisions: 3rd British on the left, 59th British in the centre and 3rd Canadian on the right. These divisions were to converge on the city, clear it and seize crossings over the Orne. In the centre the opposition from 12th SS was as firm as ever and the 59th had to battle for every village. On the left, however, the defenders—part of a low-grade Luftwaffe division which had only recently arrived from Holland— were severely shaken, and by dark the leading brigade of 3rd British had reached the northern fringe of the built-up area. There, however, it was halted by craters and wreckage caused by the bombing. The older buildings of Caen are constructed of huge blocks of stone quarried in the Orne Valley. These blocks had been tossed about like lumps of sugar and the narrow streets were choked for hundreds of yards by mountains of rubble. The plan to send an armoured column through to rush the bridges had to be abandoned. The following morning patrols made their way on foot into the centre of the city, while bulldozers struggled to clear the blocked streets. In the meantime the Canadians, advancing astride the road from Bayeux, had come in from the west and reached the river, only to find that every bridge had been blown and that the far bank was strongly held. The city of Caen was in British hands, but by their continued defence of the suburbs and factories of Vaucelles beyond the river, the Germans were able to deny Montgomery the through routes he needed so that Second Army could maintain its threat to Paris.

 

By July 10th the situation in Normandy appeared to have reached a crisis. The American ‘break-out’ offensive had bogged down. The enemy in the eastern half of Caen blocked the way to the Falaise plain. German infantry reinforcements from Southern France were now reaching Normandy in a steady flow. Cherbourg harbour was not yet open, and only one MULBERRY was working. The Allied Air Forces, handicapped by persistent bad weather over their English bases, were disgruntled because Second Army had not yet captured the ‘Caen airfields.’ At SHAEF Tedder and Morgan were openly critical of Montgomery’s conduct of the battle and there were murmurs against him in Whitehall, where the Jeremiahs were already predicting a stalemate. Across the Atlantic the American press was impatient and the U.S. War Department was beginning to voice its concern at the slow development of operations.

Even Eisenhower was affected by this uneasiness. Three days earlier he had written to Montgomery expressing the fear that the bridgehead was in danger of being sealed off and urging him to launch and maintain an all-out offensive. Because ground had not been gained as rapidly as Montgomery had forecast it might be, Eisenhower presumed that the plan had gone astray. He had not Montgomery’s long and intimate experience in the daily conduct of operations, and he was not close enough to the current battle to see the steady unfolding of the basic strategy which Montgomery had proclaimed in April. One source of Eisenhower’s concern was the knowledge that August would be a lean month for infantry reinforcements. No more British divisions would be available, and the American build-up would consist almost entirely of armoured divisions, for which there was limited scope in the bocage. Infantry divisions direct from the States would not begin to arrive until September, and he feared that, before these fresh forces could be brought to bear, the enemy would gather sufficient strength to contain the Allies throughout the winter, when air operations would be curtailed and the threat of a ‘second landing’ north of the Seine could not be maintained.

Montgomery, on the other hand, drew encouragement from the very facts which alarmed Eisenhower. He knew that the tenacity of the defence was no yardstick of the enemy’s continued power of resistance, for the German divisions were being steadily consumed in the fire of battle. He knew that the concentration of German armoured reserves against Second Army was ensuring the opportunity for First Army. Very soon they would need all the armour that Eisenhower could land.

At a conference on July 10th Bradley advised Montgomery that he could not make another major effort until he had restocked his ammunition dumps and had gained a firm jumping-off ground south of the swamps. He would first have to capture St. Lô and drive the Germans back to the St. Lô-Périers road. These preliminaries would take at least ten days. Montgomery accepted the delay, for he knew the difficulty of the terrain through which the Americans were fighting, and he was determined that the new attack should not go off at half-cock. On the other hand, the door of opportunity could not be kept open indefinitely. Montgomery had originally expected that the British and Canadian divisions would have to fight their holding action for no more than two or three weeks. This estimate had been upset by the bad weather of the first few days and by the subsequent gale, but he had taken good care not to blunt the cutting edge of Second Army either by making a premature assault on Caen or by persisting in the thrust across the Odon after the SS panzer divisions had been committed there. Even as it was, Dempsey’s resources were stretched and the War Office had given warning that the present flow of infantry replacements could not continue for more than a few weeks. How much longer could Second Army keep the German armour pinned down?

Within the past ten days four German infantry divisions had reached Normandy and three of these had been put into the line opposite the British, thus relieving panzer formations which had begun moving to the American front. At all costs this westward movement had to be halted by a swift, bold stroke which would establish British armour on Bourguebus Ridge, south of Caen, and thus re-establish the menace of an imminent and powerful break-out towards Paris.

The only possibility was to strike from the ‘airborne bridgehead’ east of the Orne. But this area afforded so little room for assembly and so narrow a frontage for attack that a conventional operation was certain to be stopped long before infantry could cover the eight miles to Bourguebus Ridge. Accordingly, Montgomery and Dempsey devised a revolutionary plan. They would group the three British armoured divisions under O’Connor’s VIII Corps and send them roaring out of the Orne bridgehead behind an aerial bombardment of unprecedented ferocity. They resolved to make such a demonstration of armour and air power on this flank that German attention, and therefore reserves, would be concentrated east of the Orne, just when the Americans were ready to break out west of the Vire.

It was eventually decided that this attack (Operation GOODWOOD) would begin on July 18th, that it would be preceded by a feint from the Odon salient on the night of the 15th-16th, and would be followed by First Army’s break-out offensive (Operation COBRA) on July 20th. These attacks, said Montgomery in a signal to Eisenhower, would “set the Normandy front aflame,” and he asked for maximum support by strategic and tactical air forces for both GOODWOOD and COBRA. From this request Eisenhower and the staff at SHAEF seem to have assumed that the attacks by Dempsey and Bradley were similar in purpose. Giving his impression of the plan, Eisenhower says, “By July 18th both the First and Second Armies had taken up positions from which the break-through attacks could be started....The main British-Canadian thrust was to take the form of a drive across the Orne from Caen towards the south and south-east, exploiting in the direction of the Seine basin and Paris.”{282}

One source of this misconception was the Operational Instruction issued on July 13th by Dempsey’s Chief of Staff. This declared that VIII Corps would “attack southwards and establish an Armd. Div. in each of the following areas: Bretteville-sur-Laize, Vimont-Argences, Falaise.” It was this instruction which staff officers of Second Army took to England when they went to present the case for air support. The naming of Falaise as one of the objectives inevitably gave the impression that this attack, as well as Bradley’s, was intended to achieve a clean break-through.

On July 15th, when he saw the Second Army Instruction, Montgomery gave O’Connor a personal memorandum which made his intention clear beyond dispute. This note began:

1. Object of this operation.

To engage the German armour in battle and ‘write it down’ to such an extent that it. is of no further value to the Germans as a basis of the battle. To gain a good bridgehead over the Orne through Caen and thus to improve our positions on the eastern flank. Generally to destroy German equipment and personnel.

2. Effect of this operation on the Allied policy.

We require the whole of the Cherbourg and Brittany peninsulas. A victory on the eastern flank will help us to gain what we want on the western flank. But the eastern flank is a bastion on which the whole future of the campaign in North-West Europe depends; it must remain a firm bastion; if it were to become unstable, the operations on the western flank would cease.

Therefore, while taking advantage of every opportunity to destroy the enemy, we must be very careful to maintain our own balance and ensure a firm base.

Montgomery then defined the task of VIII Corps: “The three armoured divisions will be required to dominate the area Bourguebus-Vimont-Bretteville, and to fight and destroy the enemy. But armoured cars should push far to the south towards Falaise and spread despondency and alarm and discover ‘the form.’” While this was happening, II Canadian Corps, which had taken over the Caen city sector, must clear the suburbs and gain “a very firm bridgehead “covering the built-up area. Then—“but not before”—VIII Corps could “crack about as the situation demands.”

During the next two days Second Army Intelligence reported a steady thickening of the German defences and reserves east of the Orne. On the 17th, therefore, Dempsey further curtailed the objectives of VIII Corps and told O’Connor to “establish Armd. Divs. in the areas Vimont, Garcelles-Secqueville, Hubert Folie-Verrières.” These contemporary orders show precisely what this operation was designed to achieve. Unfortunately for Montgomery’s reputation, however, they did not penetrate to SHAEF, where the impression prevailed that GOODWOOD was one prong of a two-pronged break-out.

 

South of the Orne bridgehead the open cornfields sloped gently down to the embanked railway lines running from Caen to Troarn and to Vimont; then the ground rose gradually to the ridge behind Bourguebus. Between the suburbs and factories of Caen on the west and the woods and marshes of the Dives to the east, the plain was dappled with small villages. There were few hedgerows and, except for certain parts of the second railway embankment, no natural obstacles to hinder the movement of armour. But the villages provided ready-made and mutually-supporting strongholds for infantry and anti-tank guns, and the ridge afforded the defending artillery good observation and wide fields of fire. The only clear exit from the bridgehead was a corridor some 1,500 yards wide, which ran for four miles between flanking hamlets from Escoville to Cagny on the Caen-Vimont road. Beyond this road there was a cluster of villages on the slope leading to Bourguebus and a thick belt of woods on the flank of the more open approach to Garcelles-Secqueville. This was the chosen battleground for Operation GOODWOOD.

The plan was that three armoured divisions, the tank regiments leading, should debouch in rapid succession from the Orne bridgehead, charge through the corridor to Cagny and then fan out: the 11th swinging south-west to the Bourguebus area; the Guards turning southeast for Vimont; and the 7th driving straight on to Garcelles-Secqueville. Meanwhile, the flanks of the corridor would be cleared by infantry. On the right, II Canadian Corps had orders to secure the area from Colombelles to Vaucelles: on the left, I British Corps was to clear the string of villages from Touffreville to Émieville and subsequently capture Troarn.

In view of the strength and depth of the enemy defences east of the Orne, the success of this plan depended on the degree of air support available, but Harris was disinclined to help, because he felt that the Army had failed to take full advantage of his contribution to the assault upon Caen. His reluctance was overcome only when he learned that Dempsey wanted anti-personnel, not high-explosive, bombs dropped in the path of the main advance, and that there would be no delay between the end of the bombing and the start of the ground attack. It was finally settled that Bomber Command would neutralise the German strongholds and gun positions on the flanks of the armoured thrust, using H.E. bombs, for here cratering was acceptable. The actual corridor up to and beyond the first railway was to be saturated with fragmentation bombs dropped by American ‘mediums,’ and Cagny, which stood at the parting of the ways of the 11th and the Guards, was to be obliterated by Bomber Command. The area south of the second railway was to be carpeted with fragmentation bombs laid by ‘heavies’ of the VIII U.S. Air Force, which was also to attack the gun area near Troarn. Outside the zone of this bombardment, fighter-bombers of Second T.A.F. would strafe areas which might harbour enemy reserves or artillery.

The air plan was impressive, but it had one recognised weakness. Sufficient aircraft were not available to bomb the guns on the ridge behind Bourguebus, and, since this ridge lay at the extreme range of the British artillery, O’Connor expected that “in this area the armour will meet considerable opposition which it will be difficult to neutralise.”{283} The Tactical Air Forces offered to turn around and attack these guns in the afternoon, but Dempsey thought that by then his armour would have reached the ridge, if it was going to get through at all. He might not have been so sanguine had he realised the full extent of the enemy’s strength and awareness.

Second Army Intelligence knew that VIII Corps would be opposed initially by the 16th German Air Force Division, and then by 21st Panzer. It believed, however, that the zone of fixed defences did not extend south of the second railway, and that in this area “12th SS is the only reserve formation not committed and it is but a shell of its former self.”{284} The only other possibility was 1st SS, but its infantry were thought to be in the line astride the Orne south of Caen and at least some of its tanks had been identified west of Caen. Consequently, Dempsey estimated that after his tanks had crossed the Caen-Vimont railway they would be able to deploy freely and take the Bourguebus gun area by storm. He realised that this would be costly, but he was, he said, “prepared to lose two or three hundred tanks” in the course of the battle. He had tanks enough and to spare, but he could not afford to sacrifice the infantry whom he would need to ensure that this eastern flank remained “a firm bastion.”

The real enemy picture was very different. The area between the Orne and the Dives was far more heavily defended than any other sector of the Normandy front, for Rommel believed that by preventing a British break-out at Caen he was compelling Eisenhower to postpone the second landing. From ‘no man’s land’ the zone of prepared defences extended right back to the ridge behind Bourguebus for a depth of ten miles, not three or four as Second Army thought. Rommel had been able to afford such depth, primarily because, unknown to Second Army, the 272nd Division had arrived from Southern France and had relieved 1st SS astride the Orne.

By July 17th Rommel had established five belts of defence east of the Orne. First, the ‘expendable infantry’ (16th G.A.F. and the 272nd) which were to take the shock of the air and artillery bombardment in Vaucelles and the area north of the first railway. Secondly, the immediate panzer reserve: the armour of 21st Panzer, reinforced by 36 Tigers, and the medium tank battalion of 1st SS. The third zone, astride the Caen-Vimont railway, was a ‘cushion’ of twelve small villages, each garrisoned by an infantry company and three or four anti-tank guns. Next, there was the gun-line, which ran along the crest of Bourguebus Ridge as. far as the Secqueville woods and then swung north-east across the Caen-Vimont railway and up to Troarn. Along this line Rommel had 78 ‘eighty-eights’ and 12 other heavy flak guns, all sited for anti-tank as well as anti-aircraft defence.{285} In addition, he had 194 field pieces and 272 nebelwerfer (six-barrelled mortars), the German weapon Allied infantry dreaded most. From these 1,632 barrels they could drench the whole area between the Orne and the Dives.

Nor was this all. Behind the gun-line a fifth defensive zone was organised around the villages on the ridge, held by the six infantry battalions of 1st SS which had been set free by the arrival of the 272nd. Finally in reserve, five miles farther back, were the 45 Panthers of 1st SS and two strong battlegroups of 12th SS, each with 40 tanks. With these forces, thus deployed in exceptional depth and well dug-in in anticipation of ‘carpet bombing,’ Rommel confidently awaited the blow he knew was coming.

Even though only one British armoured division crossed the Orne before H-Hour, it was impossible for Dempsey to conceal his intentions. From the Colombelles factories, the Germans had a commanding view over the cramped ‘airborne bridgehead.’ They saw new bridges going up, new tracks being cut. At night they heard the heavy rumble of tracks as 700 tanks moved across from Bayeux to assembly areas near the Orne bridges. The cavernous limestone of the Caen plain acted as a sounding board, and Dietrich says he detected the movement simply by putting his ear to the ground— a trick he had learnt in Russia. On the night of July 16th-17th Luftwaffe reconnaissance aircraft took ‘flare-light’ photographs of traffic crossing the Orne bridges. Next morning, undeceived by the feint across the Odon, Rommel’s H.Q. reported to von Kluge: “The local attacks on July 15th between Maltot and Vendes may be the prelude to the large-scale attack which is expected from the evening of the 17th for making a break-through across the Orne.” That day all units in the Caen sector were appropriately alerted and, in case the British should strike east as well as south, a battlegroup of 12th SS was ordered to move by night to Lisieux.

That afternoon Rommel made a final survey of his defensive dispositions. On the way back from the Battle H.Q. of Panzer Group West,{286} his escorted car was spotted by British aircraft. As the planes roared down to attack, Rommel shouted to the driver to race for shelter in the next village, but the fighters were too swift. His driver was struck down at the wheel, the car crashed into a tree, and Rommel sustained severe concussion when he was hurled on to the roadway. He was carried unconscious and gravely injured into a nearby village which bore the name, Ste. Foy de Montgomery.

 

For three hours after dawn on July 18th the ground between Caen and Troarn shuddered under the heaviest and most concentrated air attack in support of ground forces so far attempted. The bombs rained down first on the flanks of the VIII Corps corridor and then on the corridor itself. At 7.45 a.m. as the last of the ‘mediums’ turned away, the 11th Armoured Division (Major-General G. P. B. Roberts) began moving south behind a rolling barrage. As the tanks were swallowed up in the smoke and dust, fresh waves of bombers swept in to strike at the villages beyond the Caen-Vimont railway. Advancing in column of regiments on a front of a thousand yards, the 29th Armoured Brigade drove untroubled to the second railway, for the fragmentation bombing and the barrage had neutralised all opposition. In the villages on either side the dazed defenders were still in their shelters when they found themselves attacked by the infantry who were clearing the flanks.

The first serious resistance to the advance of the armour developed about half-past nine, when the two leading regiments came under fire from Cagny as they were manoeuvring to climb the steep embankment of the Caen-Vimont railway. In Cagny half a dozen ‘88s’ and some Tiger tanks had miraculously survived amid the rubble of the ruined village, and these were difficult to combat because of their greatly superior range. Leaving one regiment to cover this flank, the other two negotiated the embankment and at ten o’clock began advancing towards Bourguebus. Now, however, there was no barrage to help them and they soon encountered lively opposition from anti-tank guns concealed in villages south of the Caen-Vimont railway. One troop of tanks from each regiment managed to slip through to the Bourguebus Ridge, but the main advance was checked short of it soon after eleven.

All but one of these villages had been hit by fragmentation bombs, but by extraordinary chance a section of each village had been missed, and in every case it was the section which now faced towards the British line of advance that had escaped unscathed. Armour alone could not clear the infantry and anti-tank guns from these strongholds, but the motorised battalions of 11th Armoured were still busy clearing the villages on the western flank of the corridor. The first onslaught had lost its momentum, and, although 29th Armoured Brigade had advanced six miles in barely three hours, it had not yet broken through the enemy’s prepared defences, and the leading regiments were now under long-range fire from the ‘88s’ on Bourguebus Ridge and from Panthers which had moved up from the south.

Meantime the follow-up divisions were in trouble. Some German strongpoints on the fringes of the corridor had come to life and at the southern exit Cagny still defied every attack. In the wake of 11th Armoured, the Guards ran the gauntlet without serious loss, but when they turned south-east towards Vimont their tanks came under heavy flanking fire from both Cagny and Émieville and, though they pressed on, they soon found the way barred by a screen of guns and tanks secluded in the orchards east of Frénouville. In the early afternoon, before 7th Armoured was in a position to reinforce the offensive, the Germans began to strike back.

Soon after the start of the bombing Dietrich had lost all contact with his forward troops. Alarmed at the exceptional depth of the bombardment, he had prepared to make his stand on Bourguebus Ridge and thither he ordered the Panther battalion of 1st SS. It reached there from the south shortly before noon, just as British tanks were approaching from the north, and it was able to reinforce the garrisons of the villages around Bourguebus at the critical moment. Thus the German tanks not only secured the high ground but had the protection of buildings and sunken lanes and the support of infantry and anti-tank guns. They also had the advantage of superior range. By fire alone, without ever exposing themselves, they were able to thwart every British manoeuvre. It was impossible to drive these German tanks back with artillery, for they were beyond the range of the 25-pdrs and the medium guns could not bring down concentrations of sufficient density. The Panthers were repeatedly harried by rocket-firing Typhoons which blocked several offensive moves, but these air attacks could not be co-ordinated with operations on the ground, because the R.A.F. Control Post with the forward troops had been put out of action during the morning.

In these circumstances, O’Connor decided that his only chance of gaining the Bourguebus Ridge was to drive relentlessly on with his armoured regiments and accept heavy casualties. Shortly before two o’clock, at a conference in the midst of the mêlée, he told Roberts to make a further effort to reach the Caen-Falaise road, west of Bourguebus, and ordered Erskine (of 7th Armoured) to attack towards La Hogue and Garcelles-en-Secqueville with his armoured brigade. But its regiments were strung out all the way back to the Orne. They had been slow in crossing the bridges and they were now moving warily down the corridor. Erskine regarded the whole operation as a gross abuse of armour and seemed determined to keep his tanks out of the maelstrom as long as possible. In response to pleas from Roberts and exhortations from O’Connor, Erskine maintained that there was no room to get through between the 11th and the Guards. His leading regiment had begun to move down the corridor in’ the middle of the morning, but it did not cross the second railway and enter the battle until six o’clock. By then it was too late to affect the issue. Throughout the afternoon the left flank of the 29th Armoured Brigade had been exposed to repeated counter-thrusts by Tigers and Panthers, and Roberts could not develop a fresh attack towards the Caen-Falaise road. The Guards were similarly unsuccessful. In the evening they captured Gagny, but they could not penetrate the anti-tank screen which blocked the road to Vimont, and their efforts to get through cost them 60 tanks.

At dusk 11th Armoured, having lost 126 tanks{287} (more than half its strength), was forced to consolidate for the night north of the Caen-Vimont railway. South of this line the enemy was well established in all the villages except one, and on Bourguebus Ridge his defences, almost untouched by the bombing, were still intact.

Disappointing though this progress was by comparison with what had seemed likely in mid-morning, the day’s fighting had broken the enemy’s hold on the area between Troarn and Caen. After a battle which continued far into the night, the Canadians cleared the Colombelles factory area and gained a foothold in Vaucelles. During the night, while engineers were bridging the river, the Germans withdrew from the Caen suburbs to the western end of Bourguebus Ridge, leaving only small rear-guards to contest the advance of the Canadians. On the other flank, enemy resistance varied in direct proportion to the effectiveness of the bombing. Touffreville, the first objective of the 3rd British Division, had escaped and it held out until late in the afternoon, but infantry riding on the back of tanks by-passed this village and soon cleared the ruins of two more, where “those Germans still conscious were far too dazed to offer any resistance.”{288} Then a fresh attack eastwards reached the outskirts of Troarn, but an attempt to strike south was firmly blocked at Émieville by the force which had caused such trouble to the Guards all day.

During the night of July 18th-19th infantry of 1st SS were brought up from reserve to the villages around Bourguebus, relieving the exhausted troops of 21st Panzer. This new line might have been forced quickly, if another bomb carpet could have been laid in the path of the armour, but the heavy bombers were busy preparing to support the American offensive which was due to begin on the 20th. Thus, it was now a matter of taking these strongpoints one by one and the character of GOODWOOD changed entirely.

During the next two days, in a series of skilful local actions, Canadian and British troops drove the Germans from all the villages on the northern slope of Bourguebus Ridge, except La Hogue. In the meantime, however, the enemy was able to strengthen his positions along the crest and, before these could be assaulted, the weather turned in his favour. On the afternoon of July 20th a heavy thunderstorm drenched the battlefield and turned the sticky soil of the Caen plain into a quagmire. That night Montgomery ordered his armoured divisions to withdraw into reserve. Canadian infantry kept up the pressure but GOODWOOD was over.

 

The storm which burst over Caen on July 20th was a minor squall compared with the tempest that raged at SHAEF and at Leigh-Mallory’s H.Q. over what was regarded as Montgomery’s ‘failure.’ Expecting a break-through to Falaise and the consequent seizure of their airfield sites south of Caen, the Air Forces were particularly bitter. They were, reports Butcher (Eisenhower’s aide), “completely disgusted with the lack of progress,”{289} the more so because, late on the 18th, Montgomery himself had issued a special announcement which began, “Early this morning British and Canadian troops of the Second Army attacked and broke through into the area east of the Orne and south-east of Caen,” and ended, “Heavy fighting continues. General Montgomery is well satisfied with the progress made in the first day’s fighting of this battle.”

This announcement was premature and indiscreet to say the least, for, when it was made, the advance had been halted, not on Montgomery’s order, but by the sheer depth and strength of the German defences. It cannot be justified even as a device to fool the enemy, for Montgomery disclaims any such intention; it can be explained only if it is judged in relation to Montgomery’s strictly limited objective, as defined to O’Connor on July 15th, to get command of Bourguebus Ridge. On the evening of the 18th it seemed to Montgomery that he was almost there, and he did not then know that 11th Armoured had been forced to pull back to the Caen-Vimont railway. In any case, however, it was a grave psychological mistake to use the word ‘break-through,’ for that (in conjunction with the news of the colossal air bombardment) naturally led Fleet Street to the conclusion that this was another and greater Alamein, and the headlines were written accordingly.

In these circumstances it is, not surprising that the Air Forces were incensed when they found that there had been no general renewal of the attack until late in the afternoon of the 19th, and that then the gains had been small. That evening, says Butcher, “Tedder called Ike and said Monty had, in effect, stopped his armour from going farther. Ike was mad. Monty always wants to wait and draw up his ‘administrative tail.’...Tedder, reflecting the disappointment of the air at the slowness on the ground, said that the British Chiefs of Staff would support any recommendation that Ike might care to make with respect to Monty for not going places with his big three-armoured-division push.”{290}

Although the British Chiefs of Staff were not suggesting that a change in command should be made, there were many senior officers at SHAEF who wanted Eisenhower to take over direct control of the land battle himself. Eisenhower spurned this suggestion, but he was anxious about the slow development and gave a hint of his fears to Churchill, who was about to visit the bridgehead. On the 20th Eisenhower flew to Normandy and conferred with Bradley and Montgomery. He was deeply disappointed when he learned that the American offensive, set for the morrow, had been further postponed by bad weather, but he was amazed to find Montgomery quite satisfied with the results of GOODWOOD and full of confidence about COBRA. Because he did not really appreciate the importance of concentration, Eisenhower was disturbed by Montgomery’s determination to rely upon a ‘single, annihilating stroke,’ instead of a general offensive. What Eisenhower wanted, says his Chief of Staff, Bedell Smith, was “an all-out co-ordinated attack by the entire Allied line, which would at last put our forces in decisive motion. He was up and down the line like a football coach, exhorting everyone to aggressive action.”{291} But this was just what Montgomery was determined to avoid. If everybody was to attack, nobody would have the strength to make a decisive break-through or to exploit it.

On the following day, Montgomery soon persuaded the acute Churchill that, his plan was sound, that it was indeed the same plan he had outlined in April, and that he was on the point of gaining a major victory. Back in England, Churchill sought to reassure Eisenhower, but he could not dispel all the Supreme Commander’s doubts, for Tedder and the staff at SHAEF remained dubious and critical.

 

GOODWOOD was accounted a failure by SHAEF because Second Army had gained neither a strategic break-through nor all its tactical objectives. The fact that the operation had achieved Montgomery’s major purpose was ignored, for this purpose was not understood. By July 20th, Second Army had secured the ‘vital’ communications through Caen and expanded its territory east of the Orne from a tiny foothold to a substantial bridgehead five miles by twelve.{292} The German armour had not been ‘written down’ to the extent Montgomery had hoped, but the threat to Paris was greater than ever.

Von Kluge, who had now taken over personal command of Rommel’s Army Group, responded to the threat, as Montgomery knew he must. Before GOODWOOD Rommel had been confident that his defences east of the Orne would hold firm, and he had been preparing to strengthen the armoured reserves opposite the Americans. The 2nd Panzer Division was about to be withdrawn from Caumont into reserve south of St. Lô, and the 116th Panzer was en route from Amiens to the area west of St. Lô. In response to Second Army’s attack, however, both these divisions were diverted to the area south of Caen, and there they were joined by part of 9th SS which had been trying to refit at Aunay-sur-Odon.

Accordingly, on the eve of COBRA,-the German armour in Normandy was deployed as follows:

On the Second Army front: Seven Panzer Divisions (of which five and a half were east of the Orne) and four heavy tank battalions.

On the First Army front: Two Panzer Divisions, one Panzer Grenadier Division,{293} and no battalions of heavy tanks.

The enemy’s preoccupation with the eastern flank was the greater now, because the revolutionary character of the GOODWOOD attack had raised fresh terrors in the minds of the German commanders. They had discovered that in open country like the Caen-Falaise plain a defensive system which was less than five miles deep could be breached at one stroke by armoured divisions advancing behind a screen of bombs.

On July 21st von Kluge conferred with Eberbach and Dietrich near Falaise. Next day he wrote Hitler a letter which was both a warning and a confession of defeat:

My discussion yesterday with the commanders in the Caen sector has afforded regrettable evidence that, in face of the enemy’s complete command of the air, there is no possibility of our finding a strategy which will counter-balance its truly annihilating effect, unless we give up the field of battle.

Whole armoured formations, allotted to the counter-attack, were caught in bomb-carpets of the greatest intensity, so that they could be extricated from the torn-up ground only by prolonged effort and in some cases only by dragging them out. The result was that they arrived too late. The psychological effect of such a mass of bombs coming down with all the power of elemental nature upon the fighting troops, especially the infantry, is a factor which has to be given particularly serious consideration. It is immaterial whether such a bomb-carpet catches good troops or bad, they are more or less annihilated. If this occurs frequently, then the power of endurance of the forces is put to the highest test; indeed it becomes dormant and dies.

I came here with the fixed determination of making effective your order to stand fast at any price. But when one has to see by experience that this price must be paid in the slow but sure annihilation of the force...anxiety about the immediate future of this front is only too well justified....In spite of intense efforts, the moment has drawn near when this front, already so heavily strained, will break. And once the enemy is in open country, an orderly command will hardly be practicable in view of the insufficient mobility of our troops. I consider it my duty to bring these conclusions to your notice, my Führer, in good time.