The Steel Wave (18 page)

The second argument focused on enemy transportation hubs and mobile facilities. This argument, championed by Eisenhower’s assistant commander, British air marshall Arthur Tedder, called for all-out destruction of rail lines, bridges, and key roadways, especially those routes that led from German industrial depots to the coastline. Tedder believed this kind of disruption would be far more effective in stopping the Germans from bringing their forces into play.

Eisenhower realized that both plans had considerable merit, though it was highly likely that the Germans had stockpiled enough fuel and oil to move the bulk of their armor and mobile weapons into an effective confrontation with the Allied landing forces. Though Spaatz’s plan was certainly an effective long-term strategy, Eisenhower realized that, for Overlord, a short-term plan was far more desirable. The most important priority was to secure beachheads on the French coast, and the best way to achieve that would be to keep any sizable German armor and infantry units away. If the transportation links were cut, the Germans would be slowed down considerably.

Tedder’s argument had prevailed, but Eisenhower was suddenly confronted with political reality. Though Tedder’s plan seemed to be of greater benefit to the Overlord operation, bombing the French rail hubs and transportation centers, including major traffic intersections, meant that Allied bombers would dump their loads on or near French towns. The certain result would be the killing of French civilians, quite possibly in enormous numbers. The cost could be catastrophic, and not just in terms of human life. The French underground had been enormously helpful in sabotaging German installations, and their assistance would continue to be a vital asset to Allied plans. By bombing targets without regard for civilian casualties, the Allies risked creating a new enemy: the French themselves. The argument raged, with Churchill and the British cabinet coming down hard against the plan. But Eisenhower received support from an unlikely source. Even Churchill was stunned to receive word from French general Pierre Joseph Koenig, Charles de Gaulle’s liaison in London. Koenig seemed to grasp what every military commander had to accept.

This is war, and it must be expected that there will be deaths. We will accept great loss to be rid of the Germans.

Within days, Tedder’s Transportation Plan went into effect and Allied bombers began their work. Because of the urgent need to maintain the integrity of Operation Fortitude, Patton’s phantom invasion, the bombers focused far more on the Calais area than they did on the transportation lines behind the Normandy beaches. Despite the diversion, Allied bomber strength had become so overwhelming that even with a fraction of the air power focused on Normandy, the devastation there was quickly apparent. Though the increased level of bombings could certainly give the Germans a major clue that an invasion was imminent, Eisenhower knew that British intelligence was continuing to do everything in its power to convince the German High Command that Calais, and not Normandy, was the target.

Throughout the spring, Allied fighter planes had accompanied the bombers, the normal procedure to protect the vulnerable bombers. As the range of the Allied fighters increased, so too did the number of opportunities to confront the Luftwaffe’s devastating screen of Messerschmitts and Focke-Wulf fighters. By filling the skies with greater numbers of planes, the Allies were hoping to confront the Luftwaffe whenever possible. Intelligence had shown that German munitions factories were already stretched thin and the pace of replacing fighters had slowed considerably. On the Allied side, the situation was exactly the opposite. Enormous numbers of new and better planes were being introduced into action every week. The mathematics was obvious to everyone. The Luftwaffe had begun to withdraw many of its squadrons closer to home, to protect crucial industrial sites within Germany itself. The result was a lack of German air power along the French coast, something Eisenhower knew he couldn’t take for granted. The benefits of air superiority had already proven itself in both North Africa and Sicily. There, the inability of the Luftwaffe to dominate the skies had done much to ensure Allied victories.

With a clear understanding of the value of their increasing air superiority, Allied commanders ordered their pilots to do whatever they could to bait more German fighters into a brawl. But the air forces’ enthusiasm for increasing the number of dogfights had resulted in one enormously difficult moral dilemma for Eisenhower, a dilemma he had to discuss with Churchill.

TEN DOWNING STREET, LONDON
MAY 8, 1944

“You knew about this?”

Churchill pulled hard on the cigar, smoke billowing around him. “Of course I did.”

“You knew your intelligence people were telling the Germans where we were going to hit them next? We gave them dates and times?”

“That we did. Damned effective, those intelligence boys. They have an entire network of German agents working for us. Remarkable, that. But from time to time we have to ensure that the enemy still believes the information we’re giving them is accurate. The Nazis are a crafty bunch, and unless we toss them a biscuit to chew on, the whole thing might blow up.”

Eisenhower shook his head and stared at the cup of coffee in front of him.

Churchill leaned forward. “Dammit, Ike, have some brandy. You can’t run your motor on that swill.”

“Not now, thank you. It’s hard to fathom. We tell the enemy where and when we’re going to strike, so he can prepare to meet us.”

“Worked too. Bloody marvelous. Nuremberg must have been lit up like a festival.”

“How many planes did we lose?”

“Don’t like that question, and you shouldn’t ask it. We shot down a goodly number of Jerry fighters.” Churchill took the cigar from his mouth, raised his glass, tossed back the remnants of his drink. “It’s war, Ike. How many lives have we saved by convincing the Germans that the intelligence network is still in their pocket? Isn’t that the point? It’s war!”

Eisenhower knew it was an argument he couldn’t make; Dammit, he thought, he’s right. He stirred in his chair, driven by the caffeine, watching as Churchill reached for the squat black bottle and refilled his glass.

“May I?” Eisenhower said.

Churchill smiled, pulled himself out of his chair, moved thickly toward a cabinet, withdrew a glass.

“I knew you’d come around.” Churchill returned to the table and poured too much brandy into the glass.

“It’s damned tough, that’s all,” Eisenhower said. “Damned tough. I can’t help thinking about our pilots, sent to do a job, with no idea that back here somebody’s given them up. It’s criminal.”

“It’s war. And it worked. You want to lose sleep about men dying, you shouldn’t—”

“Yes, I know. I accepted that a long time ago. Part of the damned job.”

Eisenhower swirled the brandy in the glass, stared into the golden warmth, caught a whiff of the sharp smell. The room was empty, no one else attending the dinner, unusual. He had been concerned about Churchill’s health; the man was close to seventy now, and Eisenhower knew that he pushed himself hard—too hard, perhaps, especially with all the travel. Within the last few months there had been conferences and meetings from Quebec to Teheran, and Churchill never seemed to stop, even when pounded by a vicious case of pneumonia. Eisenhower took a sip of the brandy. It’s not just politics, he thought. He wants to win this thing, maybe all by himself. I just wish he wasn’t so damned negative about Overlord.

Churchill emptied the bottle into his own glass. “Joe Stalin’s been crowing like the feathered cock he is.”

Eisenhower saw a smile. He knew Churchill too well and appreciated the change of topic. “The Russians are doing well,” he said.

“You’re a bloody master of the understatement, Ike. I admit I was just a wee bit uncomfortable telling Uncle Joe about the invasion dates. Had to, though. Didn’t tell him anything about the actual landings of course, the locations. I knew you’d have indigestion about that. But if this is going to work at all, we need them to hit the Jerries hard, help take the pressure off. They’ve done a hell of a job all along the Eastern Front. Never thought that would have happened. Hitler was so close to Moscow, he could smell their sewers, and then he botched it up. Now, the Russians are damned near Poland.”

If this is going to work…

Eisenhower closed his eyes, took a long breath. Dammit. He felt the same annoyance returning, so many arguments, so much pessimism.

“Overlord is going to work. We’ve put every gear into motion, every commander knows his role—”

Churchill pushed his glass aside, cut him off. “I know all that. I know how much effort you’re putting into this, how much effort every damned officer in this country is putting into this. You know where I stand. There are some pretty damned smart people who think this entire operation is a crock, people I respect, people I rely upon. But I listen to you, and to Marshall, and to your president, and others of my own people, and everyone agrees we have to hit the Nazis hard. I still think it could be done with less pain if we went into the Balkans, but you don’t agree. Fine.”

Churchill stood. Eisenhower knew the look, knew the prime minister would hold nothing back. Churchill began to pace, then stopped and pointed the cigar toward Eisenhower’s face.

“Do you know what I go through every damned night? I wake up at five o’clock in the morning, and I see bodies floating in the English Channel. The cream of our youth gone, washed out to sea. That’s what I see! You tell me it’s going to work, and I can’t just accept it. I see the cost!” Churchill paused. “I know. All that drivel about generals accepting casualties. Sounds good, the stuff of textbooks.
You
have to think that way. It’s your orders that send men to die. I’m just the…what? I’m the one who has to answer to the people. I have to look English mothers in the eye and tell them why their boys aren’t coming home, why it was a good idea to send them into France. Again! How many Englishmen are going to die trying to save Frenchmen? Dammit! Tell me again it’s going to work! Tell me!”

Eisenhower heard genuine emotion in Churchill’s voice and realized Churchill expected an answer.

“It’s going to work. I know there are people against this; I know you have doubts. But we’ve done the organizing, we’ve put good people in the right places. Next week—”

“Yes, yes, I know all about next week. St. Paul’s School, the briefing. Yes, I’ll be there. Everyone will be there. Everyone will be on his best behavior, all sticking up for the cause, showing support. There’s a time for bitching and a time for shutting up. I know it’s time to shut up. But I can still have my doubts, can’t I?”

Churchill seemed much calmer now, and Eisenhower took the cue, tasted the brandy, watched Churchill light another cigar. The smoke covered Churchill’s face, the room filling with the powerful smell. The lights were dim, the room warm, the chair beneath him soft, and Eisenhower, feeling a glow from the brandy, fought against sadness, the gut-churning anxiety he could never escape. No matter how good the planning, he thought, there is always the chance it will all go wrong. God help us.

Churchill said, “I’ve gotten more reports about their secret weapon, you know.”

The words were jarring.

“
More
reports?”

“Stronger confirmation. Rockets of some kind. Hitler’s telling his people the entire war is about to change.”

“All I know is what the air people have said about Calais,” Eisenhower said. “We started seeing what looked like ski jumps or something, scattered all over the place. We’ve been hitting them hard, but they’re easy to rebuild, apparently.”

“Scares hell out of me, Ike. What’s that damned Nazi cooked up?”

“Could be fabrication. Just propaganda.”

Churchill put the cigar down. “Could be. Can’t assume that. If there really is some kind of weapon, it could be very bad here. I’m not sure how much more people can take. It’s one thing to rally them around our boys in the sky, all of that. Worked miracles four years ago. Show them a fight in the air, blow some Jerry pilot to hell right over their heads. But rockets? We talking about explosives? Poison gas? What the hell does it mean?”

Eisenhower had heard the reports too, word coming through the Ultra intercepts, the system that had broken the German Enigma communication codes. But the reports weren’t specific, nothing about
when,
only loud talk of Hitler’s new secret weapon, and then those strange platforms suddenly appearing on the northern French and Belgian coastlines. Eisenhower had kept his focus on the impact some kind of new weapon would have on the invasion, the possibility of a major disruption at the gathering fields, the marshaling yards, the ports, anywhere troops and equipment might be assembled. It was obvious that Churchill was more concerned about the British civilians. As far as anyone knew, the schedule for Overlord’s D-Day was still a secret.

Churchill shuffled back and forth, slow nervous pacing. “I know Roosevelt told you about his atom bomb.”

Eisenhower nodded. “Yep. I know we’re working on something. Weapon of incredible power. That’s about all I know. There’s a lot of physics involved, not my strong subject.”

“Mine either. Supposed to be a big damned blast, though. I have to wonder if Hitler hasn’t come up with something similar, something that could destroy half of London.”

“Washington is being pretty closemouthed about the whole thing. I don’t know anything more than that.”

Churchill picked up the cigar again, eyed him. “Whatever you say. Just keep your fingers crossed that Hitler hasn’t got better physicists than we do. They were doing some work in Norway, all that business about heavy water. Have no idea how anyone makes water
heavy,
or what the hell it’s for.”

Eisenhower said nothing. The German heavy-water plant in Norway had been a key target for a long time. But the Germans had become nervous—Norway was too ripe for Allied invasion—and in November 1943, word had come through the Ultra intercepts that the Germans were moving their stockpile of heavy water to Germany. One part of the move would be to transport the water on board a ferry across Lake Tinn. On February 20, 1944, in a perfectly executed operation, agents of the Norwegian underground had boarded the ferry, and in hours the ferry and the entire stockpile of heavy water had disappeared into the deepest part of the lake. The Allies had to believe that whatever progress the Germans had made harnessing nuclear fission had been set back significantly.