The Duplex Drive Tanks of Omaha Beach (a) Limited Means and Makeshift Solutions

In the introductory post to this Omaha Beach Series, I stated that Operation OVERLORD’s planning had begun as an under-resourced concept, an error later exacerbated by the necessary — but belated — expansion of the size of the landing force from three to five divisions.  The available resources had been inadequate for the three division concept as it was planned, and the expansion of the assault force would strain shipping almost to the breaking point.  Indeed, the frantic efforts to find the necessary additional resources had a trickle-down impact throughout planning for Operation NEPTUNE[1] and in many cases at least partially hobbled the attacking forces.

It only seems appropriate that this, the first of these deep-dive explorations, should focus on the first wave to land on Omaha Beach.  This wave would include the sixteen Landing Craft, Tanks (LCTs) that were to carry in 64 duplex-drive tanks (DD tanks).  For those unfamiliar with such equipment, LCTs were flat bottomed barges, sometimes called tank lighters, designed to land vehicles and personnel on a beach.  There were several models, but the LCT(6) version — the type used in this first wave — was about 120 feel long, was crewed by one officer and eleven sailors. It could carry as many as four M4 Sherman tanks, was slow (8 knots when empty) and handled open seas rather poorly.  Yet the LCT was absolutely essential for a successful amphibious landing.  The DD tanks were a modification of standard M4 Sherman tanks that gave them limited ‘swimming’ capability for use in assault landings.  Essentially, the tanks were fitted with canvas screens or curtains which would create something like a bathtub configuration that would displace enough water to make the tanks float.  For propulsion the tanks were fitted with two propellers in addition to their tracks, hence the term duplex drive.  It was a fragile system and fit only for relatively calm seas. As it would turn out, such would not be the case with the seas off Omaha Beach on 6 June 1944. 

The plan was that the tanks would be launched from LCTs about 6000 yards offshore and swim into the beach, landing at five minutes prior to H-Hour (H-5 minutes).  Two companies of DD tanks (a total of 32 tanks) would land on the eastern half of Omaha beach to support the 16th Regimental Combat Team (16th RCT).  Their eight LCTs belonged to Assault Group O-1.  Eight LCTs belonging to Assault Group O-2 would bring in two more companies with an additional 32 tanks on the western half of Omaha Beach to support the 116th RCT’s landings.

The two groups of LCTs – and their DD tanks – fared much differently.   Twenty-nine DD tanks of O-1 were launched between 6,000 and 2500 yards from the beach; 27 sank and only two successfully swam ashore.  Three others were delivered directly to the beach.  In the O-2 group, the decision was made to bring the DD-tanks all the way into the beach and not have them swim in.  The loss of so many DD tank of the O-1 group was something of a disaster.  Although no formal inquiry was conducted, soon enough explanations were put forward and scapegoats identified.  The crux of the matter focused on two points: the state of the seas, and exactly who made the decisions to launch.  The explanations were pretty much a one-sided affair as the key Army officers involved were soon killed in action or their units were rather more consumed with surviving in the ongoing high-intensity combat, than squabbling about past failures.  The Navy, on the other hand, left a complete record of its view of how events transpired, and that one-sided perspective has dominated the historical narrative. 

It is the challenge of this discussion to examine the plans, the decisions and dispositions which led to the fate of the DD tanks on Omaha Beach, and attempt to arrive at perhaps a more balanced perspective.  But first, it is necessary to understand the LCTs involved and their crews.

The Landing Craft Problem

It’s a truism that big navies love big ships and largely ignore small ships.  That isn’t as shortsighted as it may first seem.  Big ships cost a lot, have long construction times and require major dockyard facilities.  So, it isn’t unreasonable that big ships dominate peacetime construction programs.  Smaller ships cost less, can be built much more quickly and in smaller shipyards, so naturally in times of peace there is a tendency to defer their construction, reasoning that they can be quickly built when needed, or . . . their roles filled by rapid conversion of civilian hulls.

And so it was that the US approached December 1941 with a fairly good doctrinal foundation for amphibious warfare,[2] but a nearly bare cupboard of necessary assault ships and craft.  The swelling pre-war naval construction programs in 1939-41 virtually ignored the smaller classes of ships, especially the specialized landing ships and craft.  In fact, several of the designs that would prove essential to victory originated in Britain, where they had been forced to come to grips with the challenges of amphibious warfare before the US had even entered the war.  The US Navy really only began to fully face up to the problem as plans were being formulated for the invasion of North Africa (Operation TORCH).  The shortfall of assault craft was so severe that the President had to direct a crash ‘tiger team’ effort to rush construction of enough craft to support the landings.  And that effort ended up disrupting almost every major ship construction program to one degree or another.  The ‘reasonable’ pre-war focus on major ship construction no longer seemed so reasonable.

This crash program did succeed in producing enough craft to make TORCH possible, but the new level of sustained production was mostly swallowed up by continuing operations in the Pacific and the Mediterranean. There was only a relatively small amount left over to accumulate a modest reserve in the UK to support an eventual invasion of the continent.  But then another long-standing crisis demanded attention. 

At the start of 1943, the continuing success of the German U-boat campaign made it clear this threat had to be defeated if the Allies were to win the war.  At the Casablanca Conference in January 1943, the Combined Chiefs of Staff declared, “The defeat of the U-boat must remain a first charge on the resources of the United Nations,” which then drove priorities on construction.[3]  Accordingly, the President refocused the “tiger team” on production of destroyer escorts.  The priority assigned to assault shipping and craft was so low that they were not even mentioned in his production plan for 1943.  Despite three major conferences which directed concentration of assets in the UK for the invasion of the Continent, assault hulls simultaneously remained a critical shortage and a low priority for construction.  Even when the US Navy finally agreed to increase LCT production in the Fall of 1943, it was felt the additional craft could not reach the UK in time for the invasion, so NEPTUNE would have to make do with the already scheduled rate of allocations.

And that directly led to the shortfall of hundreds of LCTs and other craft that Lieutenant General Frederick Morgan faced (as discussed in the preceding installment).  One hundred and fifty-six LCTs would eventually be needed for the Omaha Beach landings, but as of 1 September 1943, not one of them was at hand.  Ninety-three of these LCTs hadn’t even been built, and in many cases their crews had not yet even been inducted into the Navy or Coast Guard.  A further 27 would be obtained in a circuitous manner.  They originally had been delivered to the Royal Navy through the Lend-lease Program.  Although hard-used and in poor materiel condition, the decision was made to refit them for various specialized roles and then ‘reverse Lend-lease’ them back to the US Navy, to be manned by green crews.  The transfer would occur none too soon.

The only veteran LCTs would be the 36 craft from Flotilla 18, which had been put in service between August and November 1942 and had served in the Mediterranean.  The problem with this flotilla was that they originally had been allocated to Operation ANVIL, the plan to invade the south of France simultaneously with the Normandy landings.  It was not until late March 1944 that Eisenhower finally had to admit the two invasions could not be supported and cancelled ANVIL.[4]  LCT Flotilla 18, and other assault vessels, were moved to the UK where they were able to participate in the final round of invasion rehearsals.

What of the LCTs allotted to the DD tank landings?  These would all be new construction with equally new crews.   The following chart lists the LCTs and the date they were accepted from the shipyards.

This is a somewhat bizarre allocation of craft.  Considering this would be the very first wave of the landings — carrying in the 64 DD tanks upon which the infantry and engineers would rely so heavily for fire support — not a single veteran craft or crew would be assigned to the task.[5]  The naval commander for Force O (the amphibious force conducting the landings at Omaha Beach) was Rear Admiral (RADM) John R. Hall, Jr.  As we’ll discuss in later installments, placing the newest craft with greenest crews in the lead waves for the most critical roles was something of a theme in Hall’s planning for NEPTUNE.  The two tank battalions embarked in these LCTs were at least two years in service and well trained.  Placing their fate in the hands of greenest LCT crews was a gamble.[6]

The good news about the selection of these LCTs was that they all came from just two flotillas — excepting just two from a third flotilla — which should have aided cohesion.  The bad news was that the flotillas were just as new as their craft and crews, so there was little in the way of organizational cohesion to fall back on.  The matter of command effectiveness was complicated by the fact that the leader of the ill-fated LCTs of the O-1 group was from Flotilla 19, while six of the eight LCTs in his group were from Flotilla 26.  This did little for continuity of command and would be further complicated when he was directed to switch to another craft in his group late in the game.

When considering the dates these LCT were accepted by the Navy from the yards, it would be easy to conclude that the majority of the crews would have six months or more to gain experience with their craft and in operating within their flotillas before D-Day.  But that is misleading. 

The dates listed above are when the LCTs were accepted from the builders’ construction yards.  They then had to be shipped or sailed to the port of departure for the UK.  Some LCTs would move as completed craft on the decks of the larger Landing Ships, Tanks (LSTs); these could be partially outfitted in the US before being hoisted aboard their LST.  But the number of LSTs allocated for Europe was limited, so most of the LCTs could not be assembled when loaded on typical cargo ships.  That wasn’t a major problem. LCTs were constructed in three sections specifically for ease of movement on Liberty ships; they could then be bolted back together once they arrived overseas.  And this is how most of the new construction LCTs arrived in the UK.  The new craft would arrive at a departure port in the US, be broken back down into three sections and loaded as deck cargo on a Liberty ship. This consumed a bit more time, but economized on shipping, which, with the continuing U-Boat losses, was the primary constraint. The wait for available shipping and the period in convoy across the Atlantic consumed more time.  Once arriving in the UK, the LCTs had to be reassembled, which was done either in a British shipyard, or by a newly assigned crew.  The crews had been trained in the Chesapeake Bay, shipped separately overseas and often only first saw their new craft on arrival in the UK. 

After assembly came outfitting and a brief shakedown cruise, if they were lucky.  From there it was back to the yards to correct any materiel deficiencies, and then mandatory time in a shipyard to make six important modifications required for operations in the ETO.  These included everything from longitudinal stiffening of the hull, modifications of the ramp and addition of radios.[7]  Assuming all this went as planned, the crews took over and sailed for whichever port was home to their new flotilla.  In many cases, this trip was their first experience on the open ocean.  To give you an idea of how green the crews were, one craft left the Thames estuary and mistaken crossed the English Channel and sailed into German-occupied Boulogne, where they were promptly captured.[8]

All of the foregoing consumed months, leaving little time for the new crews and craft to absorb their new duties and the skills needed for working within their flotillas.  Speaking of the final full scale rehearsal for the Omaha Landings (Exercise FABIUS I, 3-6 May 1944) RADM Hall noted in his report:

“Unfortunately, due to the late arrival of the landing craft in the Theater, plus the necessity of alterations and repairs to put those already present in the best possible condition for the assault, only between sixty and seventy percent of the landing craft which eventually took part in the assault under Force “O” took part in this exercise.”[9]    

As we’ll see, the 16 DD LCTs destined for Omaha Beach had a little luck in that regard.

The DD Tank School

As with so much of the D-Day preparations, the DD tank effort was a last minute, rushed affair.  Because there were no DD versions of the M4 Sherman in the UK, limited training was conducted from the middle of January to the middle of February 1944 on the British DD version of the Valentine tank. Major (MAJ) William Duncan, executive officer of the 743rd Tank Battalion, had attended that training with a few men from his unit and was selected to establish a DD tank training school.  The school would train two tank companies from each of three tank battalions.  The 741st and 743rd Tank Battalions were tagged for Omaha Beach, and the 70th Tank Battalion for Utah Beach.  Meanwhile, the Navy’s Lt. Dean Rockwell, commander of Group 35 of Flotilla 12, was charged with providing the landing craft to support MAJ Duncan’s training, as well as training the LCTs for their role in the invasion. The school was set up at Torcross, adjacent to the Slapton Sands training area, with the LCTs based out of the nearby city of Dartmouth.

COL Severne MacLaughlin, (commander of the 3rd Armored Group, to which the 741st and 743rd Tank Battalion belonged) provided an outline for training in a 27 February memo, which initially focused only on his two battalions.  The tank companies would arrive without tanks; their DD tanks would be issued at the school as they arrived from the States.  MacLaughlin hoped the training could be conducted from 20 March to 4 April assuming the tanks had arrived by then.  The training would last five days for each of his two battalions.  However, the first 15 DD tanks were not scheduled to arrive until about 15 March, and ten of them were to go to the British.  After arrival, the tanks required several modifications (to include “modifications accomplished to struts to avoid sinking vehicles”!), so the initial five tanks might be available for the start of training on 20 March, with the next shipment of 24 DD tanks due to arrive from the states by the start of April.[10]  

[Images by Dr. Dan Saranga via The-Blueprints.com]

Launching DD tanks was a delicate and tricky operation, with far more ways it could go wrong than right.  The canvas flotation screens could be easily snagged and ripped by fixtures in the LCT during loading.  And to avoid damaging the tanks’ propellers, the LCT had to be backing at 1,600 rpm while the tanks actually drove off the ramp.  When the tanks left the ramp, they initially dropped down into the water until the screens provided enough buoyancy to halt the downward travel and lift them them in the water to the point of stability.  The problem was, at the point the tanks left the ramp, they were only partially immersed, and the initial downward plunge from that height was so deep that the sea could overflow the canvas screens, resulting in a sinking tank.  In an attempt to fix this, special ramp extensions were hurriedly developed that would support the tanks until they were deeper into the water, so the initial plunge would not be so bad.  These modifications delayed how soon the selected LCTs could be available to support training. 

Film clip of a DD Tank launching from an LCT and sinking.

As a result of these delays for both Army and Navy equipment, initial training would get off to a slow start, necessitating a longer training plan.

By the end of April, formal training had concluded and on 1 May, Duncan and Rockwell submitted reports to their respective superiors.  The reports were obviously tightly coordinated and the two officers were in agreement on all significant points.  Rockwell reported he had trained 23 of the 24 LCTs required to land all three battalions’ DD tanks, and urged they be dedicated to the mission for the invasion.  He also claimed 1,087 tank launchings from LCTs with only two tanks lost and no personnel casualties.  Duncan’s report noted that 250 DD tanks had been received and prepared, with 100 used in training.  His training results included over 1,200 launches from LCTs, 500 launches from land and 800 hours of water navigation.  He also reported six cases of carbon monoxide poisoning (nonfatal), three tanks lost and three killed.[11]

Of the several comments and recommendations the two made in common, three would turn out to be significant: 1) the DD tanks should be launched no more than 4000 yards from the beach; 2) the decision to launch should be made by the senior Army officer, and 3) the DD tanks be limited to a Force 3 wind and sea.

There is some conflict in the records whether DD tanks were employed in either of the two major rehearsals for Utah and Omaha Beach, due to the security concerns over these top secret tanks.  In fact, on 25 March, MG Heubner (commanding the 1st Infantry Division) recommended that the DD tanks not be waterborne for the upcoming rehearsal and instead should operate from their training site at Torcross.[12]  On the other hand, Rockwell’s report specifically mentioned 31 DD tanks launching as part of Exercise TIGER (the Utah Beach rehearsal).  It is believed the 1st Division’s DD tanks did participate in Exercise FABIUS I (the Omaha Beach rehearsal) but I have not located a source to verify that.

After formal school ended, the DD tanks continued training of one sort or another in preparation of the invasion, including sight alignment and check firing of their new guns.  Rockwell continued training LCTs, including the last of his 24 primary craft (LCT 713).  In addition, he trained several backup LCTs.  As the plans worked out, all of the initial 23 LCTs he trained (and the late arriving 713) were kept together for the D-Day mission.

The entire effort was a last minute and hurried affair, beset by late arriving tanks, a crash training schedule and green Navy crews.  But the men who had been made responsible for getting it done had performed their best to make it work.  The question was, would that best be good enough?

But Why Bother With DD Tanks?

Given the late and chaotic nature of the DD effort, it is fair to ask, why was it even necessary?  And to answer that, we need to address the not so minor issue of bombardment. 

Unlike some Pacific islands, where naval bombardment could stretch for days without fear that the isolated defenders could be reinforced, in Normandy every minute after discovery of the invasion fleet could be used to rush enemy reserves to the threatened beaches.  Hence, landings on the Continent needed to be scheduled to touch down as soon after dawn as other considerations would permit.   For D-Day, those other considerations included preparatory air bombardment, naval bombardment and the tide.  This allowed only about 40 minutes for preparatory air and naval bombardment, ceasing at about H-Hour when naval firing would shift to inland targets.  That wasn’t much time.  In theory, if your allotted bombardment time was short, you should compensate by increasing the number of barrels firing.  But Neptune was working on a shoestring here, too.  Between Utah and Omaha Beaches, only 3 old battle ships, 1 monitor, 8 cruisers and 20 destroyers were allotted.[13]  By comparison, the invasion of Saipan was scheduled just one week later.  Its bombardment force included seven new fast battleships, seven old battleships, 11 cruisers and 23 destroyers firing over multiple days.  Having gained momentum in what would prove to be a long series of amphibious assaults in the Pacific, the US wasn’t especially keen to divert ships and lose that momentum just for the sake of a 40 minute bombardment in what might well be the last amphibious assault in the ETO.

So, the Western Naval Task Force was faced with too brief a bombardment window and far too few barrels.  Several measures were taken to try to fill this gap.  A number of LCTs was converted to carry 1,064 rockets of five-inch diameter, and nine of these craft were allotted to Omaha Beach.  It was intended they would fire their rockets just before the first wave landed. In addition, 24 small Landing Craft, Support (Small) (LCS(S)) were each equipped with 24 rockets, which they would fire as they escorted the first waves into the beach.  And additional LCTs would be loaded with Army self-propelled howitzers, which would provide artillery support afloat.  These were good efforts to fill the bombardment gap, but these craft were not stable platforms, and they lacked sophisticated gunnery controls that might ensure accuracy. 

That then left the option of fire support ashore.  Having tanks ashore early is always a good idea, as any infantryman can tell you.  In the case of the Omaha landings, this need was greater due to the limited sea-based bombardment.  Normally, one battalion of tanks would support a division (of three regiments), but for Omaha Beach there would be a tank battalion supporting each assault regiment.  The trick was, how to get them ashore.  There were only enough up-armored LCTs (termed LCT(A)s) to land one company from each battalion directly on the beach (along with one tank dozer in each LCT(A)), and even these were pressed into the fire support role.  Elevated platforms were built at the front of these craft to enable the forward two tanks to fire over the bow ramp during the ride into the beach.  As early as December 1943, the Army was casting about for more makeshift solutions, even considering light tanks for the first wave.  But these were only armed with 37mm guns, which were deemed inadequate. A month later, the DD tank concept was being seriously considered (which spurred MAJ Duncan’s attendance at the training that month).  Not only would DD tanks avoid having to run unarmored LCTs into the beach in the first wave, but it was hoped the unexpected sight of them crawling out of the sea would have a demoralizing effect on the defenders.

And so it was that the late and hurried DD tank effort was yet another result of launching NEPTUNE on resources that were barely adequate.  No one was entirely happy with this hodge-podge approach.  As RADM Hall put it:

“The Force Commander [talking of himself in the third person] acquiesced reluctantly in both the decision to employ tanks and artillery firing from landing craft, and to land tanks in the first wave.  He ultimately agreed because he realized the necessity for more firepower at this stage of the assault than could be supplied by the Naval craft then available.  He was then, and still is, doubtful of the efficacy of DD tanks and tanks firing from LCT(A)s landing in the first wave on strongly defended beaches.” [14] 

In light of these constraints, the Allied naval commands took pains to point out that the effects of the bombardment were likely to be limited.  Although the bombardment was expected to have a “neutralizing” effect, they wanted it clearly understood that in this case, “neutralizing” meant a stunning effect, not a destructive one.  The Army had similarly cautioned that the “drenching fire” mission of its wave 1 and 2 tanks was intended to stun and suppress, not necessarily destroy.  Perhaps the cumulative effect might be greater when combined with the attack by the heavy bombers of the US Army Air Force, but no one at the higher levels harbored any delusion about the expected results.  Unfortunately, many of the assault troops would later report they had been incorrectly assured the German defenses would be destroyed.   

As the shortcomings in planning and early errors in execution began to pile up, success of the landings in turn hung more heavily on the success of the DD tanks.

FOOTNOTES

[1] A note about codewords.  OVERLORD and NEPTUNE were closely interrelated and often used interchangeably.  OVERLORD was the umbrella plan for the assault on the continent and defeat of Germany.  NEPTUNE was the codename for the plan for the amphibious assault on the Atlantic coast of France.  In this installment, the focus of discussion centers on the amphibious landings, and therefore examines the NEPTUNE plans.

[2] At least theoretically.  It would take several actual landings by Army and Marine divisions to hone the theoretical doctrine into a practical system.

[3] Memorandum by the Combined Chiefs of Staff, “Conduct of the War in 1943”, 19 January 1943.

[4] Renamed Operation DRAGOON and rescheduled, these landings took place on 15 August, using some of the assault shipping that had been employed in NEPTUNE.

[5] The 16 LCTs carrying in the wading tanks and tanks dozer scheduled to land just minutes later were in even worse condition.  Originally given to the UK under the Lend Lease program, these LCT had been modified with additional armor and returned to the US for various fire support roles.  All of these were delivered to US units during the first half of 1944, necessitating the formation of scratch crews which had either minimal or no training on the craft.

[6] Hall was an experienced amphibious commander, having commanded an assault force in the Sicily invasion (Operation HUSKY), and before that had been Admiral Hewitt’s chief of staff for the North African landings (Operation TORCH).  He had been the Eighth Amphibious Force commander in the Mediterranean before he was transferred to become the Eleventh Amphibious Force Commander in the UK.  As COM Eleventh PhibForce, he was selected to lead the Omaha landings.  

[7] Six major modifications had to be performed on the LCTs for the DD tanks.  In additional, all LCT engines had to be overhauled in preparation for the assault.  See Report of Commander, Amphibious bases, UK, titled “A History of the United Stated Amphibious Bases in the United Kingdom”.  Dated 1 November 1944.  Pg. 61.

[8] This anecdote was recorded by Charles Lilly, Jr. in his account of his war service.  He was the Officer in Charge of LCT 637 on D-Day.  Although LCT 637 was delivered to the Navy on 19 January 1944, it did not join its flotilla until the end of April, missing the major rehearsals, and had just 3 weeks to work up before embarking cargo for the invasion.  Fortunately, the 637 was not one of those supporting the DD tanks.

[9] COM 11th PHIBFOR (Hall).  Report of Ops Period 6/4-29/44-Assault on Vierville-Colleville Sector, Coast of Normandy, France.  Dated 27 July 1944.  Pg. 88.

[10] Commander 3rd Armored Group (MacLaughlin). Memo, subj: DD Tank Training, dtd 25 March 1944.

[11] The difference in losses resulted from one non-training accident when an impromptu demonstration was put on for a visitor. The tank swamped.

[12] Commanding General, 1st Infantry Division (Heubner). 1st Endorsement, dtd 25 March 1944, to Commander, 3rd Armored Group memo, subj:  DD Tank Training

[13] The monitor (the HMS Erebus) was a flat bottomed ship boasting just a single turret with two 15 inch guns (same as found on some battleships).  It was specifically designed for shore bombardment.  The total of destroyers includes three British Hunt class escort destroyers.

[14]  Op cit, Hall, pg 101.

Planning for Operation OVERLORD; When Objectives Exceed Resources

Insignia of the Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force

It was late September 1943, and British Lieutenant General Frederick E. Morgan was not entirely a happy man.  As a result of the Casablanca Conference (14-24 January 1943, codenamed SYMBOL),[1] the western Allies had affirmed their commitment to “an invasion in force” on the Continent in 1944,[2] and as a tangible example of that commitment had directed the creation of a planning staff to prepare for that invasion.  As the commander of that future invasion had not yet been selected, in the interim the staff would be headed by the position called the Chief of Staff to the Supreme Allied Commander (designate).  General Morgan was tapped for that job, and both he and his staff would be referred to by the acronym COSSAC.  As there was not yet a Supreme Allied Commander (nor would there be one for about nine months), Morgan was at something of a loss for clear guidance from above.

His charter was broad:  to plan for “A full scale assault against the Continent in 1944, as early as possible.”[3]  Beyond that, the combined US and British Chiefs of Staff had little to offer.  Initially he had not been given any idea what forces would be available for the landings, except that when it came to naval forces, he could only count on such shipping as would be available in the United Kingdom at the time the invasion would be launched – and as seen above, that date was another item left unspecified.  Morgan was also hampered in that his new position was merely as a planning and coordination element, one that had no command or executive authority.  Still, at least it was a start.

Morgan and his new staff – which only began forming in mid-March and did not hold its first meeting until 17 April - did have the advantage of a wealth of intelligence, several studies and a few plans developed earlier by various commands for various contingencies, all of which were related to some degree with landings on the Continent.  COSSAC also benefitted from the lessons of the failed Dieppe Raid.  Drawing from those sources and COSSAC’s own analyses, Morgan was able to eliminate the Dutch and Belgian coasts and focus on the French Coast.  Of course, the selection of a landing area was necessarily influenced by the size of the force in the initial assault wave as well as the size of the immediate follow-on forces, and the size of both of those were limited by the assault shipping that would be available.  And, again, both the size of these forces and amount of assault shipping to carry them were constraints which the Combined Chiefs of Staff had neglected to specify. 

Lieutenant General Sir Frederick E. Morgan

Lacking guidance on the forces available for the landings, Morgan’s plan assumed an assault force of four divisions followed by an immediate reinforcement of six more divisions.  These figures had been used in the most recent planning effort— Operation SKYSCRAPER—before COSSAC assumed responsibility for the planning.[4]  But of course they were only an educated guess as there were many variables that could not be anticipated, not the least of which was future enemy strength and dispositions many months in the future.  While the British Combined Commanders had previously rejected SKYSCRAPER’s four-plus-six division force level, COSSAC’s analysis considered it reasonable given the variables and unknowns, and since no better estimates were available, COSSAC incorporated the four-plus-six force level as one of its own planning assumptions.

Morgan’s outline plan was fairly reasonable, given the limitations under which he worked, though there were some weaknesses.  A major problem was, and would remain, the availability of assault shipping.  In May COSSAC’s chief naval planner conducted a study that concluded there was enough sealift for four divisions in the assault, but only enough to permit simultaneously embarkation for one follow-on division—instead of six—to land the second day.  

Until that point, there had been just one significant amphibious assault in the Mediterranean Theater, with another soon to begin.  Both of these operations targeted areas that were geographically isolated to a greater or lesser degree from the enemy’s sources of reinforcements and supplies.  French possessions in North Africa were separated from France by the Mediterranean Sea, and Sicily was separated from Italy by the Straits of Messina - both of which were subject to interdiction.  More importantly both of those invasions faced defenders whose willingness to fight was questionable.  In North Africa, there were no German forces defending the invasion beaches, and it was hoped the Vichy forces that were there would join the Allies (after some regrettable initial fighting they did).  And in Sicily the bulk of the defenders would be poorly-equipped, low-quality Italian units with inadequate supplies and even lower motivation.  Despite those strategic advantages, the Allies allotted more divisions to the assault for each of those two operations than what appeared to be supportable for the long awaited and much heralded Second Front invasion on the Continent.  The well-developed rail network in western Europe could theoretically simultaneously support the movement of seven German reinforcing divisions, which, given the shortage of Allied shipping, would decisively outpace efforts for the Allies to reinforce and expand a continental beachhead.  

The idea of assaulting the Atlantic Wall - where there were far more German forces close at hand, and much greater ability to reinforce the defenses - with less strength in the assault than previously used in much more favorable conditions, did not appear to be a sound strategic decision.  But such were the constraints under which Morgan had to labor.

[The shortage of assault shipping and craft was tied to production priorities, which in turn were dictated by decisions on the matter of the Alliance’s grand strategy.  Although those decisions would seem very shortsighted to those involved in OVERLORD planning, they were the results of trying to harmonize and rationalize many competing demands and often nearly irreconcilable national positions.  It is remarkable that so little in the way of disconnects between strategy and materiel resulted.  I will defer the discussion of the background concerning the shortage of assault shipping and craft to a later post.]

If that was not bad enough, worse was to come.  At the Third Washington Conference (12-15 May 1943, codenamed TRIDENT), the US Joint Chiefs of Staff anticipated that by 1 April 1944 there would be 36 divisions available to support the invasion.[5]  But, again, shipping was the limiting factor.   The British presented the shipping bill for the invasion of the Continent: 8,500 ships and craft were needed to simultaneously lift ten divisions (four in the assault and six immediate follow-on).  In the subsequent tension-charged discussions, the figure was “talked down” to 4,000 ships and craft.  In addition, the debate was reopened concerning the rationale for four divisions in the assault.  This discussion, however, was not focused on augmenting this assault force, but to revise downward the proposed force.  As a result, the Combined Chiefs of Staff limited Morgan’s planning to that which could be supported by the 4,504 ships and craft assumed then to be available for the invasion.[6]  This, the Combined Chiefs believed, would enable a simultaneous sealift of five divisions (three in the assault and two for immediate follow-on) with two more divisions following using the D-Day shipping upon its return.   To partially compensate, the Combined Chiefs authorized the use of two airborne divisions, though at the time of their decision, there was not sufficient airlift for even one division. Twenty more divisions would be available to feed into the bridgehead in the ensuing months, but none of these were made available for the initial invasion.[7]

As a rough indication of the relative commitment to this invasion of the continent, the conference allocated 10% fewer major assault ships (APA, AP, LSI and LSH) to the operation than they allocated to the upcoming invasion of Sicily (45 vs 50).  The strategic priority the Combined Chiefs had given the operation clearly was not matched by the necessary priority on resources.

The conference agreed on a proposed date of 1 May 1944 and settled on the codename OVERLORD.[8]  Morgan received the TRIDENT directives in May 1943 and set to developing an outline plan using the latest guidance. 

This map was produced by COSSAC to depict the factors that were considered in selecting suitable landing beaches. Their analysis settled on three beaches in the CAEN Sector for the three-plus-two division assault plan. With the expansion to a five division plan, a beach just inside the COTENTIN Sector was added; this would be area of the UTAH landings.

Being an outline plan, it did not attempt to determine the details of troop dispositions and maneuvers, though it did attempt to allocate major formations to major objectives and forecast some sequence in which critical objectives would be secured.  Morgan set his planners to work on refining the proposed landing sites and finally settled on three:  Courseulles-sur-Mer in the east (entry point for operations aimed at Caen); Vierville-sur-Mer/ Colleville-sur-Mer to the west; and Arromanches-les-Bains in the center.  Given his limited assault force, he had to abandon the idea of a landing west of the Vire estuary (the eventual Utah Beach area).

The shipping problem continued to hamstring planning.  The inclusion of essential non-divisional assets (corps- or army-level armor, antitank, antiaircraft units, etc.) took away lift from that allocated for the assault and follow-on divisions, thereby slowing the reinforcing schedule.  In addition, many of the smaller craft, which the Combined Chiefs had included in their analysis, were not capable of crossing the Channel so their capacity figures could not be used in deployment lift calculations.  Also, essential minor operations to seize bridges or coastal defense batteries reduced airlift for the main airborne landings; he concluded he had sufficient aircraft only to lift 2/3 of a single airborne division at once. 

The late-August 1943 Quebec conference would hold surprises – both good and bad - for COSSAC.[9]  The latest version of the outline OVERLORD plan was presented to the conference and approved, although COSSAC’s predicted rates of advances after D-Day were deemed too optimistic (and events would prove they were!).  Nevertheless, the Combined Chiefs directed him to continue planning and accepted his preconditions for success, which required efforts to attrit the Luftwaffe and tie down or divert German Wehrmacht forces.  Realizing the assault force might be too weak, Churchill suggested it be increased by 25% and include a landing west of the Vire estuary, which Morgan had originally wanted but could not do with the forces allocated. General Marshall (Chief of Staff of the US Army) agreed that strengthening the assault would be a sound move.[10]  As good as that appeared, there were two drawbacks.  First, that suggestion was not put into writing as a directive.  Second, no additional shipping was made available, so any increase in the size of the invasion was rather illusory.  While Morgan considered the prospects for success were good (on the assumption German air and ground forces were whittled down in advance), he advocated an increase of at least 10% of shipping just to ensure the three-plus-two division concept could be on the beach by daylight D+2.[11] 

The Combined Chiefs’ appetite for the operation was growing, but they still would not fully face up to the bill.  Various plans and studies were suggested to comb out craft from other activities and increase production, but most of these were futile or had marginal impact, and it was felt no increase of production would reach the UK until April 1944.  As his draft plan stood, its success depended on transferring substantial shipping from the Mediterranean, something that was far from guaranteed.  Still, Morgan now had the latitude to explore the concept of a larger invasion, which would permit identification of the problems that would entail, and perhaps lead to steps necessary for solutions.

On the downside, one of COSSAC’s requests had come back to haunt them.  They had requested a feint against southern France, timed to coincide with the OVERLORD landings in an effort to tie down German divisions.  The Combined Chiefs endorsed the idea and directed GEN Eisenhower [12] to draw up plans.  When he submitted his plans in November, however, it was for an actual landing, seizure of key ports and offensive follow-on operations to the north.  While there were sound strategic reasons for this operation (codenamed ANVIL), as far as COSSAC was concerned, it was just one more demand on the very same limited pool of assault shipping on which they depended to drawing from in the Mediterranean.  Thus it was that Eisenhower, the commander in the Mediterranean, would be for a time the worst obstacle for Eisenhower the Supreme Commander in the UK.   In fact, ANVIL would have crippled the chances of success for the Normandy landings had not Eisenhower received permission to cancel ANVIL, which he did just a bit more than two months before OVERLORD. 

The concerns raised by Churchill and Marshall would soon be validated by real events.  On 9 September 1943, Operation AVALANCHE struck the beaches of Salerno, Italy.  Despite an initial landing of the better parts of four divisions and strong attachments, swift German counterattacks came so close to splitting the beachhead that at one point evacuation of half of it was considered.  And this despite the fact that the Germans had the rugged terrain working against their armored thrusts.  In light of this, the three-plus-two division force slated for OVERLORD could hardly be considered adequate to ensure success.  And yet neither greater force allocations nor shipping assets were devoted to OVERLORD.  

With Sicily serving as a cautionary example, Morgan used his apparent authority to study the options for expanding the invasion.  He decided that efforts should not be bent towards adding another assault division, rather to provide the assets necessary to overcome the shortfall in shipping for the two follow-on divisions in the initial three-division assault alternative.  The problem of LCTs perhaps best illustrates the general scale of shortfalls facing COSSAC.  The TRIDENT conference had allotted 653 LCTs for the invasion, a figure COSSAC considered a dangerous minimum.  Almost immediately those began to melt away.  By the end of September about a quarter of those LCTs had been diverted.  Forty-four had been committed to anti-submarine net defense operations at Scapa Flow and many others were due to be converted to conduct fire support missions [13] – a task the Combined Chiefs had failed to anticipate and for which no new construction was authorized.  While the latter group of LCTs were still part of OVERLORD planning, their decks could not be counted on for lift purposes.

On 30 September 1943, Morgan stated that there would be a deficit of 251 LCTs merely to fully embark the two follow-on divisions so that they could be landed on D+1 to support the three-division assault concept.  To support the lift requirements of a four-division alternative, there would be a deficit of 389 LCTs.  “In addition, for a four-division assault there would be a shortage of more than 150 support craft using LCT or equivalent hulls.” 

And that’s where I will leave this introductory review, as it amply illustrates the minimalist planning assumptions and inadequate resource allocations that would dominate preparations for the eventual 6 June landings.  Among the allied leaders there was the growing realization that not enough had been done to ensure success, but little would be done to find solutions for the next few months.  The result of this would be that perhaps the dominant theme of OVERLORD preparations would be the continuing last-minute attempts to obtain critical ships, equipment and units, and slap them into the operation in the nick of time.  This problem would be vastly complicated with the arrival of Eisenhower and Montgomery from the Mediterranean, in January 1944.  The two commanders were of the same mind: the operation was too weak and on too narrow a front.  Therefore, the initial assault would be increased to five seaborne divisions and three airborne divisions, and would target five invasion beaches (to include one west of the Vire estuary to facilitate operations against Cherbourg).  Strategically it was a sound decision; the weakness of the three-plus-two force option would have had much too low a chance for success.  At the same time, however, this decision had seen the shortfall in shipping go from ‘critical deficiency’ to ‘near impossibility’.

It's true that many amphibious assault operations had successfully been planned and executed in far shorter windows than the five months Eisenhower had left to him (5 January to 6 June- including the delay from the planned 1 May target date).  But in most cases, the choices of objectives were limited in scope to what the available resources in theater could support.  But OVERLORD was different.  To gain and secure a lodgment on the Continent in the face of strong German formations, a minimum level of forces and resources would be necessary.  Allied strategists had committed to the operation, but failed to pony up the necessary ante.  The deficit, especially in assault shipping and craft, simply could not be magically produced and delivered to the theater in time. 

Any casual student of OVERLORD is probably aware of the shortfall of adequate assault shipping and craft, as well as the herculean strides that largely overcame those shortfalls (although too often at the last minute and with inadequate means).  What is not commonly appreciated are the more subtle and less recognized impacts of this slap-dash, in-the-nick-of-time effort.  Too often crews or units arrived very late to the party, inadequately trained for their tasks, and in some cases only semi-trained on their own craft.  Too often they were committed to some of the most critical and most dangerous roles in the invasion.  As if that weren’t bad enough, German initiatives (such as the sudden crash construction of beach obstacles) required additional, equally last-minute, responses from Allied commanders, again resulting in inadequately trained units committed to new and critical tasks.

The following series of posts will examine several cases where combat operations during OVERLORD were adversely affected by these last-minute efforts to redeem the shortfalls of planning.  The tactical failures or near-failures that occurred on D-Day as a result of the inadequate planning and resources allocations have generally been glossed over and even completely ignored by many, so they have faded from history.  In that regard, this series will place many of the events on Omaha Beach in their more complete context.  The intent is not to affix blame on individuals (though that will probably happen in selected cases), rather to highlight the complexities of combined and joint planning, and explore the unintended consequences of flaws in that planning.

One final note of caution.  We should never lose sight of the fact that despite everything, the invasion was a success.  They pulled it off.  But in so doing, a far greater burden – undiubtedly too great - was placed on the shoulders of the young Tommies and G.I. Joes who approached the beaches on 6 June, often ill-prepared for the ordeal ahead of them.  That they measured up and succeeded despite all will forever be a testament to their courage and character.

FURTHER READING

• History of COSSAC (Chief of Staff to Supreme Allied Commander), 1943 - 1944. Prepared by The Historical Sub-Section, Office of Secretary, General Staff, Supreme Headquarters, Allied Expeditionary Force. May 1944

• Cross Channel Attack, by Gordan Harrison, 1950

FOOTNOTES

[1] The meeting included U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt and British Prime Minister Winston Churchill and their principal military advisors.  Joseph Stalin was invited but did not attend due to ongoing military operations.

[2] Cross Channel Attack, pg.44.  Much of this post is a summary of portions of Cross Channel Attack’s history of the planning leading up to 6 June 1944, with my summary focusing more tightly on the assault shipping and landing craft problem.

[3] He was also charged with two other responsibilities which have been omitted here as they don’t bear on the current theme.  The first was a large deception effort to tie down German forces in the west (Operation COCKADE) and the second to quickly move forces to the continent in the case of a sudden German collapse Operation RANKIN.

[4] This outline plan was codenamed SKYSCRAPER and was produced in early 1943.  It was developed by a planning cell working under the directions of the British Combined Commanders, and thus represented a solely British perspective on the issue (the Combined Commanders were essentially the British body equivalent to the US Joint Chiefs of Staff, with the notable exception that the British Combined Chiefs predated the creation of the US Joint Chiefs of Staff).

[5] See “The Trident Conference, May 1943: Papers and Minutes of Meetings”, CCS 215.  CCS 215 also predicted 32 German division in France and the low countries, which could be reinforced to a total of 60 divisions.

[6] The British were to supply 3,257 of these, or 72% of the total.

[7] See “The Trident Conference, May 1943: Papers and Minutes of Meetings”, CCS 242/615. 

[8] OVERLORD was the codename for the invasion of western Europe and the subsequent campaign to defeat Germany, while NEPTUNE was the codename for the amphibious landings in Normandy.  Much of the discussion surrounding assault shipping and craft merges into the realm of what would later become NEPTUNE planning, but for simplicity’s sake, I will use only OVERLORD for the purposes of this article.

[9] Codenamed QUADRANT, held in that city 17-24 August 1943.

[10] See “Quadrant Conference, August 1943; Papers and Minutes of Meetings”, pg. 397.

[11] See “Quadrant Conference, August 1943; Papers and Minutes of Meetings”, C.C.S. 304.

[12] At this point, Eisenhower was the commander of the Mediterranean Theater.  He would not take command of OVERLORD until January 1944.

[13] Such as those carrying hundreds of rockets to lay a barrage on the beaches just before the first waves would land (Landing Craft, Tank (Rocket) – LCT(R)).  There was also a need to use LCTs as platforms for anti-aircraft guns (Landing Craft, Flak - LCF) and direct-fire medium caliber guns (Landing Craft, Gun – LCG).

Omaha Beach in Focus - Series Introduction

Picture taken by Chief Photographer’s Mate Robert Sargent, of the USS Samuel Chase. Image shows Company A, 16th Infantry, 1st Infantry Division landing on Easy Red Beach Sector, Omaha Beach at 7:40 AM on 6 June 1944.

Over the next months I will be posting here a series of articles which will take a close look at selected aspects of the NEPTUNE landings on Omaha Beach on D-Day, 6 June 1944.  I would like to open by claiming that this series includes ‘never-before-seen’ material or ‘newly-found material that had been lost’, or other such spectacular claims which seem to be de rigueur for popular military histories.   While such claims might be true in one or two instances throughout this series, the fact is that surviving historical documentation has been poured over in such depth and such frequency that the documents are wearing thin from repeated handling, and there are very few new revelations to be ‘discovered’.

If that’s the case, then why bother with this series at all?  I suggest there are a couple good reasons.

First is the matter of perspective.  If you want to engage in a nearly futile pursuit, try to find a modern military historian with firsthand military experience.  There are some, but they are too few and too far between.  The generations of historians who had any military service, much less during WWII, have sadly passed away.  In their wake has arisen a field of military historians who rely instead on whatever expertise an advanced degree in history can bestow.  While such a degree, complemented with sound common sense, has turned out many fine works by many fine authors, it also imposes strict limitations on their depth of understanding and analysis in detail.  They have no firsthand idea of how small units operate, especially in combat conditions.  They often have only a surface-deep understanding of tactics and doctrine.  Few have had any experience in leading, managing and commanding large bodies of men and complex organizations.  Few have been trained at the general staff college level, so they lack understanding of how staffs operate or the subtleties of planning.  Even fewer have been trained at the war college level, so they have no firm appreciation of either the Operational Art, or Strategy.  In fact, it’s depressing to see so many of them use the words tactics and strategy interchangeably.

The result of this lack of professional training (in the military sense) limits these academic historians to a 32-bit understanding of a 256-bit subject matter.  And their products often reflect those limits. 

I hope I bring a different perspective to this series.  I was a professional Army officer, entering the service at 17, graduating from the Military Academy at West Point and then serving 22 years as an Infantry officer, complete with the Ranger tab, Master Parachutist Badge and Combat Infantryman’s Badge.  I’ve even had planning experience, ranging from platoon level on the one hand to theater army  level at the other extreme.  So, I hope to provide a somewhat better perspective than many.  Beyond that, a short tour as an inspector general taught me not to focus merely on what happened during an incident, but to look deeper into the causative factors that may have brought about the end result.  And the fact is, the seeds sown by the preconditions before the battle far too often are responsible for the poisoned fruit reaped in combat.  I am not a professional historian and have never claimed to be.  Nevertheless, my perspective may be worthwhile.

The second reason I have for writing this series is historical accuracy.  Despite the amazingly diligent work of hobbyist and professional researchers—and a number of excellent authors—popular knowledge of the landings increasingly has been distorted or falsified by sketchy 5-minute YouTube videos as well as some authors who seek to create spectacular stories at the expense of the facts.  Of course, there are also the Hollywood productions which place entertainment impact over historical reality.  Then there is the ‘regimental history’ version of events which seeks to record the glory and great accomplishments of a particular unit, with just the barest nod to factual accuracy.  I ran into this in several units to which I was assigned over the years.  ‘Regimental history’ may be understandable in its intended role of inculcating martial culture, but it should never be confused with legitimate history.  And finally, popular histories seldom delve deeply into technical military details, so they tend to deliver either a superficially shallow story, or, again, seize on one small aspect and exaggerate its importance to absurd degrees. 

All of these factors have resulted in some fairly incomplete, if not generally distorted views of military history in general, and Omaha Beach in particular.  For instance, the jumbled and scattered landings of the first few waves on Omaha Beach are usually quickly attributed to the unexpectedly strong eastward current and smoke that obscured landmarks . . . and no further thought is given to the matter.  But that ignores a number of decisions during the planning and rehearsal phases that laid the groundwork for failure once the current and smoke were encountered.  Official action reports tend to lay blame at the feet of uncontrollable influences rather than staff and command decisions that set the preconditions for failure.  And so it is that I believe several points merit a deeper analysis.  From an organizational and planning perspective, one would do well to study how and why these decisions were made.

And now for a caveat.  Although the Second Front (the Allied landings in northwest Europe) had long been a point of discussion, and been a subject of studies and limited planning, the actual preparations were very much a hurried and not totally coordinated affair.  Largely this was due to the rather late expansion of the size of the invasion.  It was a critical decision—and absolutely necessary—but it placed significant additional demands on forces and materiel, especially when it came to naval shipping.  The fact that all of these challenges were met in a relatively short time stands as a testament to the exceptional ability of those involved.  It is inevitable, however,  that under the pressures of time, the vast scope of the planning effort, a host of unknowns and an altogether too active enemy commander, that oversights, mistakes and errors in judgement would occur.  The intent with this series is not to find culprits or lay blame (well, with one or two unavoidable exceptions).  Rather it is to identify how decisions conspired to affect some of the more notable events.

I hope you find these articles informative, and perhaps even enjoyable.

CRH

Destroyers’ Inshore Support at Omaha beach - Motion Picture Evidence

Several months ago, I was asked to do some research for a documentary film project on an Army combat cameraman who landed on Omaha Beach on D-Day, 6 June 1944.  As with most of these requests, it ended up involving many, many hours reviewing the scattered film clips and photos that have survived.  Although the invasion was a momentous event, the vast bulk of the visual record consists of some pretty routine, even boring material.  I was trying to track the progress of a specific landing craft, tank (LCT) and identify the time it beached.  Normally, a quick look at an image is enough to let you know that it isn’t relevant and you move on to the next hundred or so images.  So, as I was reviewing a particular film clip shot by an Army motion picture cameraman aboard the LCT, I quickly dismissed the clip; it had been taken too early in the day and the LCT was much too far offshore.  As I was about to fast-forward, something caught my attention.  The clip showed a mass of landing craft milling offshore, part of the backlog that was created when crowded conditions on the narrow beach caused beachmasters to halt further landings of vehicles and equipment. 

But there amid the traffic jam of landing craft was something else altogether.  It was a warship, a destroyer, to be exact.  It was like an elephant that had been overlooked because I was focused on the herd of mice surrounding it.  What stood out was the location of the destroyer.  Destroyers were supposed to operate in the fire support lanes, which looped toward the beach, turning away some five thousand yards or more from the shore.  But in this film clip, the destroyer was much farther inshore.  It was obviously well forward of the line of departure and closer in than any of the landing craft. 

As far as I can tell, that clip represents the only motion picture evidence of one of the most critical, if not decisive actions on D-Day:  the movement of Destroyer Squadron 18 close inshore to pound German defenses.

“Thank God for the U.S. Navy”

If you have read anything about the D-Day landings at Omaha Beach on 6 June 1944, then you are aware of the critical role played by a few Navy destroyers.  With the assaulting regiments largely pinned down at the shingle embankment, no exits yet opened and later waves of men and vehicles piling up at the waterline, things looked very bad from offshore.  That viewpoint may have been a bit misleading, as limited progress was actually being made in the gaps between German strongpoints, but those advances were not apparent from offshore and there is little doubt the landings were in trouble.

Ironically, there was substantial firepower at hand to help the troops struggling to seize the beachhead, but that firepower had been largely silent since the pre-H-Hour bombardment had ended.  Task Force 124.9, the Omaha Beach naval bombardment force, was lying several thousand yards off the beach.  It included two old US battleships, three light cruisers (two Free French and one Royal Navy), nine US Gleaves-class destroyers. and three British Hunt class destroyers.[1]  The US destroyers, which are the focus of this article, constituted Destroyer Squadron 18 (DESRON 18), and included USS Frankford, DD 497; USS Carmick, DD 493; USS Doyle, DD 494; USS Emmons, DD 457 (replacing the damaged USS Endicott); USS McCook, DD 496; USS Baldwin, DD 624; USS Harding, DD 625; USS Satterlee, DD 626; and USS Thompson, DD 627.

Figure 1. The USS McCook, DD 496, showing the configuration of the nine Gleaves-class destroyers of DESRON 18 on D-Day. (NAVSOURCE)

The battleships and cruisers had been primarily engaged with coastal artillery batteries and other targets behind the landing beaches.  Most of the naval gunfire placed on the immediate beach defenses during the pre-H-Hour bombardment had come from the nine US destroyers (employing their four 5-inch guns and in some cases their 40mm antiaircraft guns in the direct fire mode) and the three British escort destroyers (mounting four 4-inch guns).  At 6:25 AM, the destroyers had been ordered to cease fire as the first waves were about to land.

After that, the destroyers had only conducted direct fire missions on the few enemy ‘targets of opportunity’ they could positively identify.  The Satterlee, and later the Harding and Thompson, were able to make contact with the Rangers’ shore fire control party (SFCP) and provided gunfire support that first suppressed defenders so the Rangers could climb to the top of the cliffs at Pointe du Hoc, and then aided the Rangers in repelling German counterattacks.  Beyond the far eastern end of Omaha Beach, Baldwin, Doyle, Emmons and Harding periodically engaged German shore batteries in the vicinity of Port-en-Bessin that just wouldn’t stay dead.  Beyond these few engagements, the destroyers’ guns had mostly been idle.  This was not due to a lack of will or capability, rather a lack of targets, or more precisely, a lack of spotters ashore.  Each ship had been tasked to support fire requests from one or two SFCP attached to infantry battalions coming ashore.  But the ships had been largely unsuccessful in establishing communications with their SFCP teams.  Between casualties in the SFCP teams and waterlogged radios, communications generally failed and the destroyers were mostly blind.  From time to time, they might spot a target of opportunity and engage it, or, taking a clue from the shell bursts of the surviving tanks, bring their guns to bear on the same targets.  But by and large the destroyers had been frustratingly idle, unable to do much to help with the crisis ashore for fear of hitting friendly troops, whose locations were difficult to identify through the smoke and haze from their positions in the fire support lanes. 

Until about 8:30 AM the Frankford, with the DESRON 18’s commander aboard (Captain Sanders), had been overseeing the establishment of the anti-submarine screen north of the Transport Area (which was 23,000 yards offshore).  She then departed and headed inshore where the rest of the squadron was operating, and, according to the ship’s action report, closed within 1200 yards of the beach.  Seeing the situation on the beach, at about 9 AM, Captain Sanders, ordered his destroyers to close into the beach as far as possible to provide fire support.  According to Samuel Eliot Morison, by 8:00 AM some of the destroyers had already moved closer to shore, but now the entire squadron closed in.

Figure 2. This illustration shows the organization of the various naval control measures off Omaha Beach. Note the fire support areas. The destroyers generally operated from within these lanes. (Morison)

To put this in perspective, the fire support lanes in which these destroyers operated, were 5000 to 7000 yards from the beaches at their nearest points.  Twelve hundred yards would put the ship at point blank range as far as their 5 inch guns were concerned.  It also placed the destroyers in dangerously shallow water.  The draft of these ships ranged from a bit more than 13 feet to a bit less than 18 feet (when fully loaded).  McCook, for example, closed to the 3 fathom line (18 feet depth), based on charts whose hydrographical data was none too precise.

When Captain Sanders ordered his ships that close in, he was taking a big risk of grounding and the possible loss of one or more of his ships.  And the danger wasn’t just from running aground.  If one of the destroyers steamed over a sunken LCT or even one of the sunken duplex drive tanks in that shallow water, the result could very well have been a holed hull.  On the other hand, the reward was potentially great.  At those close ranges, ships had far better observation to locate targets on the beach and could better key off the targets the tanks were engaging.  Just as importantly, at those ranges, they could precisely place fire on identified targets, reducing the risk of danger to friendly troops ashore.  CPT Sanders’ decision was bold, but not entirely rash. He had conducted close in fire support in the Mediterranean, so he had experience on his side. His was a classic example of a calculated risk.  And he led by example; his ship reported closing to 800 yards from the beach. Fortunately, while some of his ships scraped bottom, none ran hard aground.

Captain Sanders’ orders were soon given unambiguous endorsement. At 9:50 Am, Admiral Bryant, commanding the bombardment group, exhorted all the ships in his group: “Get on them, men! Get on them! They are raising hell with the men on the beach, and we can’t have any more of that! We must stop it!”

And it worked.  In light of the recent Army loss to Navy in their annual football game, I am not inclined to say much nice about my nautical compatriots.  Nevertheless, justice demands I make this one concession: The Navy may well have saved the day at Omaha Beach.  Certainly, Generals Bradley (commanding the First US Army) and Gerow (commanding the VII Corps and the Army troops landing at Omaha Beach) thought so.  As did several thousand men ashore. [2]  With the destroyers finally able to spot and engage specific German emplacements at absurdly close ranges, enemy defensive fires rapidly lessened and the troops ashore were able to make faster progress off the beach. [3]

Despite the gallant, and arguably decisive, actions of DESRON 18, it was only able to contribute a small fraction of its firepower to the fight. According to Morrison, “Commander W. J. Marshall in Satterlee reported that, owing to want of information, only about 20 per cent of the destroyers’ fire support capabilities were were used.”

I won’t attempt here to relate the fire missions these destroyers executed during this phase of the landings.  Those have been told many times before, and such details are not the focus of this article.  Our focus here is on the visual record of these events.  But I’ll close this section with an excerpt of a letter from Colonel Mason (chief of staff for the 1st Infantry Division) to Rear Admiral Hall (commander of the Navy forces off Omaha Beach):  “I am now firmly convinced that our supporting naval fire got us in; that without that gunfire we positively could not have crossed those beaches.”

(For those interested in a summary of this action, I suggest Destroyers at Normandy, Naval Gunfire Support at Omaha Beach, by William B. Kirkland Jr., or Morison’s  History of United States Naval Operations in World War II, Volume XI, The Invasion of France and Germany.)

Visual Evidence

Until I stumbled on this film, the only images that I had seen of these destroyers in action close inshore at Omaha Beach were still images.  The most well-known were drawings, The Battle for Fox Green Beach and Target of Opportunity, both by Dwight Shepler, a combat artist aboard the Emmons that day.  And I can only recall a single still photo (Figure 3 below). But motion picture film of the destroyers in action?  Not so much.

Figure 3. A destroyer off Dog White beach sector. This photo has been associated with the fire mission conducted by the USS Harding to demolish the bell tower of the church in Vierville in the belief the Germans were using it as an observation post. The request supposedly had been passed from an Army colonel to the captain of LCT 538 who passed it on to the Harding. After approval from higher, at 2:13 PM the Harding expended 40 rounds, destroying the tower and causing friendly casualties. The area was already in the hands of the Rangers and no Germans were in the tower. This is an excellent example of how confusing combat can be, and especially when using naval gunfire to support troops ashore. A similar incident occurred at the opposite end of Omaha Beach when naval shelling of Colleville, which was already occupied by Company C, 16th RCT. Numerous friendly casualties resulted.

Although the Harding appears to be close inshore in this photo this is a bit deceptive, as the relative sizes of the Harding and of the burning Landing Craft, Infantry (LCI) and beached LCT indicate. (Omaha Beach - Vierville)

As I mentioned at the beginning of this article, I did finally stumble on some film of this event while browsing through the excellent holdings on the Critical Past website.  It was clip # 65675051420, titled “United States soldiers loaded in Landing Crafts as they move towards Fox Green Beachhead in Normandy, France on D-Day”, and was just 1 minute and 6 seconds long – including the Critical Past introductory splash screen.  It’s not the best quality film.  Taken from a bobbing LCT, it can be a bit difficult to identify and track specific details, a condition not helped by the camera panning past key parts of the action.  Further, it is grainy footage and the exposure is not the best. 

Figure 4. This image comes from a frame of motion picture film taken aboard an LCT by Technical Sergeant (TSGT) Val Pope, a US Army combat cameraman belonging to the 165th Signal Photo Company. Outlined in blue is the distinctive shape of a Gleaves-class destroyer. It’s impossible to tell from this image how close to shore it is, but it is well inshore of the landing craft seen gathered here, which are seaward of the Line of Departure (4000 yards from the shore). Outlined in red is the distinctive black smoke column of high-explosive shell detonations. (Critical Past)

During this clip, a destroyer can be seen in four separate sequences.  The first sequence runs from the 00:04 second to 00:12 second time mark.  As Figure 4 illustrates, the scene shows the backlog of various landing craft in a holding pattern off Omaha Beach.  Between this log jam and the beach is a lone destroyer; from what little can be seen, it doesn’t appear there are any landing craft shoreward of the ship, but that isn’t certain.  From its shape it is a Gleaves-class destroyer, exactly as we would expect.  Its bow is pointing to the right (west), facing into the direction of the current and this is exactly how the destroyers maneuvered.  For example, the Doyle’s action report included this entry: “Maneuvering ship to stay in position against current which is running west at 2.8 knots. Flood tide."

In the background you can clearly see the bluffs behind the beach.  There are several streams of low lying white smoke, usually a sign of grass fires.  Ignited by the pre-H-Hour bombardment, they proved to be a persistent problem on D-Day, obscuring key navigational landmarks for the first waves.  Atop the bluffs on the left side of the frame is a darker smoke column, more in keeping with the results of high explosive (HE) shell detonations.  The area of the presumed HE explosions are a good distance laterally down the beach from the destroyer, so these impacts are probably the product of a different destroyer.

Figure 5. Taken from a frame just 2 seconds after Figure 4, the camera has panned to the right. The destroyer (again in blue) is now in the left side of the frame. The film coincidentally catches a salvo of naval shells impacting at the far left of the frame before the camera quickly pans away. Note this is not the same area as the black smoke seen in Figure 4. (Critical Past)

At time mark 00:10 of this same sequence, a cluster of HE shells detonates at the top of the bluffs farther to the right.  Because the camera has panned to the right, this new set of explosions is again in the left half of the camera’s frame, but the impact location is several hundred yards to the right (west) of the first HE smoke column.  Again, you can’t see any indication that the destroyer pictured fired this salvo, it is nonetheless the only film I’ve seen that shows both a destroyer and a destroyer’s shellfire during this critical phase of the battle.

The gap in the bluffs visible at the 00:10 mark appears to the entrance to the Colleville Draw (Exit E-3 in the invasion plan).  This would place these ships off the Fox Red beach sector.  The HE detonations seen at that time mark appear to be well to the east of WN60 and the F-1 exit [4], and probably are hitting the bluffs just north of le Grand Hameau and Sainte Honorine.

For the next 7 seconds, the camera is angled to the right (west) and shows little of interest to us.

Figure 6. A closer view of the destroyer in action. In the background is the same stretch of bluffs, showing signs of recent shellfire. Some time has passed since the sequence in Figure 5 was filmed, as indicated by the changed smoke patterns. (Critical Past)

At time mark 00:19, the camera is again focused on the destroyer, which is in the right half of the camera’s frame, and briefly obscured by the passing LCT-626[5].  The contour of the bluffs and the pattern of the grass fire and HE smoke columns proves this is the same scene as in the first sequence.  The destroyer is still pointed to the west.  The camera’s point of view appears much closer inshore; whether that is due to the camera’s LCT moving closer or a telephoto lens isn’t clear.  There are no new detonations visible, but both HE smoke columns continue to expand.  Nor is there a sign that the destroyer pictured has fired a salvo during the 11 seconds of this sequence.  

At the 00:31 mark there is a new scene showing the smoke rising from recent HE explosions on the bluff.  At the very end of this sequence (00:38 mark) at the right of the frame, you can see the two white vertical shapes which are the distinctive funnels of a destroyer.  The sequence ends there. [Note: the film cells available as still images through Critical Past were generated one per second of film. The image of the destroyer’s two funnels discussed in this paragraph fall between the two nearest cells, so it wasn’t possible to include an illustrative photo here. The funnels are briefly visible in the clip.]

The next sequence begins at the 00:40 mark, with another large HE smoke cloud billowing up at the top of the bluffs.  In this case, LCT-623 is in the foreground[6], but no destroyer is visible.

Figure 7. In this image taken from the film’s 55 second mark, a destroyer - perhaps the same one in previous sequences - is moving out to sea and is in the vicinity of the Line of Departure (which was 4000 yards from the beach) or beyond. The second and third gun turrets (mounts 52 and 53 in US Navy terminology) are still trained fore and aft respectively, while the front and rear turrets (mounts 51 and 54) are trained to starboard, and may still be in the process of a fire mission. (Critical Past)

The next sequence begins at the 00:51 mark and shows a destroyer at much closer range.  Even at this distance it is not possible to identify which ship it is.  The nine Gleaves-class destroyers here had nearly identical configurations[7] and the hull number isn’t visible.  Note the point of origin for the black smoke is on the slopes of the bluff, not the top. The volume black smoke indicates a heavy volume of naval fire has been concentrated on the target.  

Also note that in every sequence discussed—save one—all we see are the HE smoke clouds, not the actual explosions as the shells impacted.  There’s a reason for this.  The motion picture cameras used 100 foot reels of film, and there were practical limits on how many rolls could be carried.  The cameraman who filmed this sequence belonged to Detachment P of the Army’s 165th Signal Photo Company, and he was going ashore that day.  Whatever load of film he carried on D-Day would have to last him a few days, until a resupply chain was established. So he had to carefully conserve his film, and not waste it on useless scenes.  With this in mind, we can easily understand why this clip consists of so many short sequences: get the shot, stop filming and look for another interesting scene.

With film being a critical item, our cameraman could not afford to film long sequences in the hope that a destroyer would fire before his roll was exhausted.  The solution was to try to stay ready and focused on the likely action, and start the camera after the boom of the guns signaled the action had commenced.  So it was a case of reactive filming.  Not a very good technique, but considering the circumstance, it was about the best possible.

Recall I said only one sequence actually showed shells detonating.  That was the first sequence, and I believe it was purely accidental.  The sequence began by showing a growing HE smoke cloud – typical of the reactive method of filming that was required.  The camera then panned to the right, briefly seeking some other subject before the sequence cut off.  The shell bursts we do see apparently were captured accidentally, and the fact that the camera quickly panned past the explosions and shuts off indicates to me the cameraman didn’t even know he captured that historic image.

This motion picture clip may not be the most earth-shattering discovery in military history, or even D-Day lore. But it is quite a nice bit of documentation that captures a significant event on D-Day. Choppy, short - almost disjointed - sequences, grainy and with poor exposure. Nevertheless, it is a small and meaningful piece of history, captured as it happened, under difficult conditions. I hope you find it as interesting as I have.

If you are aware of any other motion picture footage of destroyers operating close inshore off Omaha Beach, please be sure to leave a note - and a link! - in the comments section.

Chuck Herrick

FOOTNOTES

[1] The following account omits discussion of the British Hunt class destroyers, Tanatside, Talybont and Melbreak.  Termed ‘escort destroyers’ by the Royal Navy, they were smaller and less heavily armed than fleet destroyers, as befitted their design role as convoy escort ships.  During the morning of 6 June, they participated in the pre-H-Hour bombardment, but then were detached from the gunfire support mission and moved to the outer screening station to join other ships in the anti-submarine screen, as the plan called for.  As a result, they did not figure in the actions that are the focus of this article.  As always, no slight is intended to our gallant British allies, as these ship did credible jobs in all tasks assigned to them.

[2] Of course, the Navy was also responsible for several factors which plagued the landings, so perhaps the credit and debit columns rather balanced out in the end.  I hope to address some of the problems with the naval planning and execution in future posts.

[3] I should note that in at least one instance during this period, a large ship in the bombardment group aided the destroyers battering the German beach defenses.  Morison reported that, “Between 12:23 and 12:30 PM the old battleship USS Arkansas put six 14-inch shells into the German strongpoints at the Vierville exit.”

[4] WN60 was the German strongpoint on the eastern bluffs of the Colleville draw; the F-1 draw snaked up just below the position.  WN stands for the German word Wiederstandnest, literally, resistance nest.

[5] Scheduled to land at H+300 (11:30 AM) in wave 21 for Fox Green beach sector.

[6] Scheduled to land at H+130 (8:40 AM) in wave 17 for Easy Red beach sector.

[7] Eight of DESRON 18’s destroyers had a square-faced bridge, and only the Emmons had the standard rounded-face bridge.  Unfortunately the front face of the bridge in this sequence isn’t visible.