Authors: Terence T. Finn
Tags: #History, #Asia, #Afghanistan, #Military, #United States, #eBook
Russia too received Lend-Lease aid. After conquering Poland in 1939, Denmark, Norway, Belgium, and France in 1940, and Yugoslavia and Greece early in 1941, while, for the moment at least, putting Great Britain on the defensive, Hitler turned his attention east. In one of the Second World War’s most momentous decisions he ordered his army loose against Russia, which then was constituted as the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR). Deploying some three million soldiers and 3,330 tanks, the Germans, in Operation Barbarossa, invaded Russia on the morning of June 22, 1941. What made the attack somewhat surprising was that, in August of 1939, Hitler had signed a nonaggression pact with the Soviet Union. Once the invasion began, the Russians resisted, though not very well. At the battle for Minsk, for example, the Germans crushed two Russian field armies and, indicative of the scale of the fighting, took three hundred thousand Russian soldiers as prisoners. By late August the Germans had gained control of much Russian territory. Soon Russia was reeling. Though stretched thin, the German army had victory within its reach. Joseph Stalin, a man who, like Hitler, represented evil in its most pure form, took several steps to save Mother Russia. He poured more and more soldiers into battle. He shot commanders who failed. And he sought American aid.
Eager to strengthen any country combating Nazi Germany, the United States responded, providing assistance via Lend-Lease. Some $11.3 billion in war materials were sent to the Soviet Union. Among the aid were 4,924 Airacobras, planes the Red Air Force used to great advantage against German tanks. Only recently has Russia acknowledged the key role this aid played in the victory the Soviet military achieved in 1945.
Lend-Lease supplies were delivered to Russia by three different routes. Some aircraft simply were flown to Siberia from Alaska. Most aid, however, took a more indirect journey. It first was shipped to Iran and then by road and rail transported north into Russia. U.S. troops operated much of the Iranian National Railway, employing more than forty thousand Iranians to help move supplies.
The third route of Lend-Lease supplies to the Soviet Union was the most treacherous. Material was shipped to Britain (which also provided aid) and then by ship sent in convoy past the Arctic Circle and around Norway to Murmansk and Archangel. Throughout the voyage, the vessels were subject to attack from German submarines (U-boats), surface warships, and aircraft. Yet the most dangerous foe was the weather. High seas and bitter cold made the trip difficult and dangerous.
The legislation authorizing Lend-Lease became law in March of 1941. Late in December of that same year, well after the attack on Pearl Harbor, President Roosevelt gave a radio address to the nation. It was one of his signature “fireside chats.” These were seemingly informal conversations in which the American leader spoke directly to the people of the United States. At the time, these addresses were novel, and millions of Americans tuned in to listen. In this particular chat, Franklin Roosevelt coined a phrase that has become synonymous with the United States in regard to the Second World War. Speaking of the need for the United States to supply the tools of war to those willing to do battle with Japan and Germany, Roosevelt said that America should become “the arsenal of democracy.” And that is exactly what the United States did.
Shielded from the enemy by two oceans, American industry turned its attention to the manufacturing of military equipment and supplies. Vast quantities of armaments were produced. American workers, many of them women (the symbol of whom was “Rosie the Riveter”), turned out the tools of war in numbers hitherto unimaginable. For example, in 1943 American aircraft manufacturers delivered more planes than Britain, Germany, and Japan combined, and twice the number from the Soviet Union.
Shipyards too were hard at work. During World War II the United States became the world leader in shipbuilding. Yards on three coasts launched more ships than German U-boats could sink and Japanese aircraft could destroy. In addition to warships, the Americans built cargo vessels, lots of them. None were more critical to success than the Liberty ships. These were dry cargo ships of a standard design. In 1943 alone, 140 Liberty ships were launched per month. A California industrialist by the name of Henry J. Kaiser developed the concept of prefabricating the components of the ship and then rapidly assembling them at the shipyard. So efficient was this process that, at the peak of their manufacture, Liberty ships were being built in ten days.
It is no exaggeration to state that America’s role as the arsenal of democracy made possible the Allied victory of 1945.
Neither HMS
Prince of Wales
nor the USS
Augusta
were Liberty ships. The former was a British battleship, the latter an American cruiser. The battleship had carried Winston Churchill to the waters of Newfoundland, where, off Argentia in Placentia Bay, he met with Franklin Roosevelt, who had arrived on the
Augusta
. The two leaders had exchanged a great deal of correspondence but were eager to meet face-to-face. Both men understood the importance of stopping Adolf Hitler. On board the two warships, the president and the prime minister, and senior military officers of both countries, held extensive talks from which emerged a joint declaration of democratic values. Known as the Atlantic Charter, the document set forth the political and economic foundations that Great Britain and the United States deemed essential for the future.
Remarkably, the meeting off Argentia took place before the Japanese struck Pearl Harbor. The leader of an ostensibly neutral country was discussing how a postwar world might look with the leader of one already at war. No doubt, Herr Hitler took notice, especially as the charter did not mince words, referring as it did to “the final destruction of Nazi tyranny.”
In fact, the British had hoped to secure from Roosevelt a stronger expression of American commitment to the war. Already the president had taken additional steps. He had ordered the U.S. Navy to escort British-bound convoys to a midpoint in the Atlantic, thus easing the burden on the Royal Navy. He also had ordered American armed forces to assume the defense of Iceland. Yet the president resisted the British efforts. He was ever so conscious of the thin ice on which he was stepping. After all, on August 12, 1941, the day he and Churchill signed the Atlantic Charter, the United States House of Representatives approved an extension of the military draft by only one vote.
On Sunday, August 10, Winston Churchill and Franklin Roosevelt, along with their advisors, gathered together aboard the
Prince of Wales
for divine services. Of that morning occasion Churchill later wrote:
This service was felt by us all to be a deeply moving expression of the unity of faith of our two peoples, and none who took part in it will forget the spectacle presented that sunlit morning on the crowded quarterdeck—the symbolism of the Union Jack and the Stars and Stripes draped side by side on the pulpit; the American and British chaplains sharing in the reading of the prayers; the highest naval, military and air officers of Britain and the United States grouped in one body behind the President and me; the close-packed ranks of British and American sailors, completely intermingled, sharing the same books and joining fervently together in prayers and hymns familiar to both.
I chose the hymns myself—“For Those In Peril on the Sea,” and “Onward Christian Soldiers.” We ended with “O God, Our Help in Ages Past . . .” Every word seemed to stir the heart. It was a great hour to live.
There is a sad postscript to the story of the Atlantic Charter. Along with the battle cruiser HMS
Repulse
, the
Prince of Wales
was dispatched to Southeast Asia in order to defend Singapore, now an independent nation but then a British colony. The Japanese were intent on capturing the city, and the two British vessels were directed to stop them. But the ships lacked air cover, and on December 10, 1941, Japanese aircraft easily sank both of them. The British people took great pride in their navy, so the news of the sinkings hit hard. “In all the war,” wrote Churchill, “I never received a more direct shock.”
***
Soon after the attack on the American fleet at Pearl Harbor, Prime Minister Churchill journeyed to Washington, D.C., for the first of several wartime conferences with the American president. At this initial meeting Roosevelt and Churchill made two important decisions. The first was that the fight against Germany would take priority over the one against Japan. The second was that the United States and Great Britain would plan their military operations jointly.
To carry out this second decision, the two men established an unusual, albeit highly successful, military command organization. Known as the Combined Chiefs of Staff (CCOS), it consisted of the leaders of the armed forces of both countries acting as a single unit. For the Americans this meant that General George C. Marshall, chief of staff of the U.S. Army, and Admiral Ernest J. King, commander in chief of the U.S. Fleet, served as members. So did General Henry H. Arnold, who headed America’s air force, which at the time was part of the army (unlike in Britain and Germany, where the Royal Air Force and the Luftwaffe were separate services, independent of the army and navy). In addition, Admiral William D. Leahy was a member of CCOS. He served as President Roosevelt’s personal representative to the new organization.
These four men and their British counterparts directed the overall war effort. When they were unable to reach agreement, the issue would be referred to the president and the prime minister. What is remarkable is that despite difficulties (the British general on CCOS, Alan Brooke, thought the Americans were amateurs at warfare, while Admiral King intensely disliked the British), the Combined Chiefs of Staff worked well. A common language helped. So did a mutual desire to utterly crush the Third Reich and the Empire of Japan.
By the evening of December 8, the United States was at war with Japan—but not Germany. Yet if America was to combat those that threatened democracy, it needed to fight the Nazis as well as the Japanese. Roosevelt understood that. But how was he to bring the nation into war with a second opponent? After all, Germany had caused little if any harm to the United States. The solution came from Hitler himself. In a hate-filled speech on December 11, he simply declared war on the United States. Benito Mussolini, the Italian fascist leader, followed suit. By the end of the year, the sides were drawn. The Axis powers were Germany, Italy, and Japan. America, Great Britain, and Russia constituted the Allies.
Anxious for American troops to do battle with the Germans, President Roosevelt dispatched General Marshall and Admiral King to England for talks with British military leaders. They were to decide, with British agreement, how best to confront the Third Reich. Roosevelt had mandated that U.S. forces initiate combat against the Nazis in 1942. He knew that American morale required action as soon as possible. He knew also that the Soviet Union was demanding that Great Britain and the United States open up a “Second Front” in order to relieve the pressure on the Red Army. Both the president and Churchill worried that German success in the east might force Russia out of the war, as had occurred in World War I. Were that to happen, the full might of the German war machine would be directed against an outmatched Britain and an unprepared America.
In meetings with the British, the Americans, and particularly General Marshall, favored an early cross-channel invasion of Europe. The British were opposed to the idea, fearing high casualties. The chief of staff, however, soon realized that such an invasion simply could not be accomplished, at least not until the fall of 1943. The necessary landing craft were not available, nor were there a sufficient number of aircraft, tanks, and troops. Consequently the idea was soon discarded.
In its place, the British and Americans decided to invade North Africa, where German troops had been trying—with some success—to advance toward the Suez Canal. The landings were to be called Operation Torch, for, as the first joint endeavor of British and American ground forces, they were to light the way.
As the U.S. Army’s chief of staff during World War II, George C. Marshall had great responsibilities. One was to select officers of senior rank for command of America’s field armies. It was Marshall who chose the commander for the Allied invasion of northwestern Africa. The man he chose was a general without combat experience. However, the man was an astute planner, a fine soldier whose personality was well suited to working with the British.
The general’s name was Dwight D. Eisenhower.
Although British troops were to participate in the landings, Torch was portrayed as an American operation. This was because northwestern Africa was under French control, and the French were less likely to oppose an American expedition than a British one. Indeed, the hope was that U.S. troops would be welcomed.
When France surrendered to Germany in 1940 (Hitler held the surrender ceremony in the same railroad car at Compiègne in which the Germans in 1918 had signed the armistice that ended the First World War), the victors had taken direct control of the northern half of France, including Paris. The French government, headed by a hero of World War I, the elderly Marshal Philippe Pétain, controlled the southern portion of the country. Headquartered at Vichy, it also administered France’s colonial possessions, including those in Africa.
With France no longer opposing Hitler, the British were alarmed lest the French fleet become naval assets of the Nazis. Were this to happen, the British position in the entire Mediterranean area would be vulnerable. Churchill told the Royal Navy to remove the threat. This the navy did, opening fire on the French fleet in July 1940 as it lay at anchor. Most of the French ships were put out of action, with heavy loss of life. Needless to say, the French were not pleased. British troops landing along the African coast thus were likely to receive a hostile reception. Willingly then, the British let Torch be largely an American show. Once U.S. troops were ashore, with the French forces either neutralized or enlisted in the fight against the Germans, British soldiers would join the fray.