Normandy in Color

A Shooting War (with film).


Normandy in Color by brest44

This archival footage was too rich and mesmerizing not to share.  In what I assume is a segment of acclaimed director George Steven's film D-Day to Berlin, these snippets of film from June and July 1944 are intimate, revealing, and important.  Steven's cadre of cameramen included experienced filmmakers, cinematographers, and producers who adapted to Newsreel and Army life.  Known as "Steven's Irregulars," these Hollywood types nevertheless realized they were filming something  more than a mere movie.  Watch, learn, and enjoy.

Ten Armies in Hell

Book Review: Monte Cassino: Ten Armies in Hell, Peter Caddick-Adams. Oxford University, $29.95 (384p) ISBN 978-1-84809-358-4.  Review by Jared Frederick.

"No tree escaped damage, no piece of ground remained green.  On my lonely walk the only accompaniment was the jarring explosion of shells, the whistling of splinters, the smell of freshly thrown-up earth and the well-known mixture of smells from glowing iron and burnt powder" (184).  German General Senger und Etterlin remarked at this devastation of the battlefield during Operation Dickens, the Allied effort against the Gustav Line in March 1944.  Monte Cassino, the centerpiece of this formidable defensive position, is the subject of writer Peter Caddick-Adams's new book aptly subtitled Ten Armies in Hell.  A British veteran of numerous conflicts in eastern Europe and the Middle East, the author knows war firsthand, and his heart-wrenching narrative of the infamous WWII scrap suggests his own personal encounters on the field of battle.  Much like Antony Beevor or Rick Atkinson, Caddick-Adams's talent rests in his ability to equally balance the perspectives of the general down to the grunt.  And perhaps the most fascinating facet of the tale is his analysis of an "extraordinary rainbow alliance of nations and races" which waged a brutal offensive against fascist forces in the inhospitable mountains of central Italy.  The story is incomprehensibly brutal yet historically provocative and readable.

While many readers understandably have preconceptions of WWII Italy as an American vs. German fight, Caddick-Adams's important work will promptly correct this skewed perspective.  In actuality, the Allied force consisted not only of the usual military suspects, "but also Russians, Indians, Georgians, Napalese, Ukranians, French, Slovaks, Armenians, New Zealanders, and Poles."  The nationalities suffered together and endured drastic conditions against well-entrenched Axis forces.  While this diverse conglomeration may have been perceived as a harbinger of victory, such did not always seem the case.  As the author clarifies, this "international dimension of the huge Allied artillery resources available created the conditions for. . .friendly fire confusion."  As one Indian gunner recalled, "From battery to battery I heard every conceivable accent--American, British, New Zealand.  Elsewhere orders cackled in Polish and French.  Then like the opening phrase of a colossal symphony the guns roared in unison."  Confusion indeed.

The lack of a common language was not the only challenge the Allies confronted.  Horrid weather and excruciating coldness turned roads and pathways into impassable quagmires of mud or ice.  Rivers overflowed and engulfed vehicles.  Equipment froze and stalled.  One can only imagine a combatant frustratingly trying to thaw out a can of rations.  American deuce and a half trucks toppled over embankments, forcing weary and bearded GIs to revert to mules as forms of transportation.  Some 15,000 donkeys were implemented in the chaotic venture.  The men driving them often proved equally stubborn.

Perhaps the most compelling focal points in the book analyze the moral contradictions and ambiguities of bombing the 900 year-old mountaintop abbey above Cassino.  Allies seemed reluctant at first to bombard the historic shrine with thousands of tons of high explosive but were quick to justify their actions--including Eisenhower and Roosevelt.  German propaganda called the Americans and British "barbarians" for the destruction of the Catholic landmark.  Although the site was reconstructed within two decades, the action remains a historical gray area as well as a tactical one.  The bombed-out ruins of the abbey created a near-impenetrable labyrinth for Allies to inch through.  So too are the human costs of the campaign confounding: 200,000 casualties (or roughly the entire population size of Richmond, Virginia).  Was the cost worth the objective?  Even with his rich account and plentiful sources, the author largely leaves this all important question to the imagination of the reader.

Unlike Normandy or the Bulge, Monte Cassino was not celebrated.  Nor could it be commemorated in the same way by the veterans who participated in it.  In some manners, the fight remains a paradox.  Other than the 1945 film The Story of G.I. Joe, Monte Cassino has barely been mentioned let alone depicted in cinematic renditions of the war.  (The author notes, however, director John Irvin plans to release a film on the subject in time for the seventieth anniversary.  We'll see.)  All in all, Caddick-Adams delivers a masterful treatment of a too frequenrly omitted moment of World War II history.  His work is readable, personal, eye-opening, and gave me a higher appreciation of the Italian Campaign.  The story resonates with me, as now does the song "D-Day Dodgers," featured in the prologue of the book:

Look around the hillsides, through the mist and rain,

See the scattered crosses, some that bear no name.

Heartbreak and toil and suffering gone,

The lads beneath, they slumber on.

They are the D-Day Dodgers, who'll stay in Italy.  

Overshadowed and forgotten.  Caddick-Adams's book is a step in the right direction of reversing that unfortunate pattern.

The Benedictine abbey overlooking Monte Cassino (constructed in 529 A.D.) became a fortress of rubble and was defended daringly by German Fallschirmjagers (paratroopers) who were trained to fight independently in small, leaderless groups.  They made the Allies pay for it in blood.  The structure was reconsecrated in 1964 and stands to this day.  Photo Courtesy of the German Federal Archives. 

Tips from Rick Atkinson

At the National WWII Museum

Rick Atkinson and Jared Frederick at the National WWII Museum.

Back from New Orleans and the National WWII Museum!  This past Wednesday I had the exciting opportunity to attend an engaging lecture by three-time Pulitzer Prize-winning author Rick Atkinson at the official release of his latest book.  Entitled The Guns at Last Light: The War in Western Europe, 1944-1945, his study is the final volume in his "Liberation Trilogy," which covers the American Army's baby steps in North Africa, to the fighting in Sicily and Italy, and now to Normandy and VE Day.  (Accordingly, this special event was held on the 68th anniversary of the end of the war in Europe.)  Atkinson's magisterial An Army at Dawn, which covered the North Africa Campaign, won the Pulitzer Prize for History following its 2002 release.  He is one of the most prolific writers of American Military History.

Analyzing D-Day to the dwindling days of the global conflict, Atkinson has uncovered some new and surprising facts from the deep recesses of the National Archives.  For instance, Allied and Axis fears of biochemical weapons were very much a reality in 1944.  Wartime London was scoured by bounty hunters trapping rats to check their carcasses for bubonic plague harvested by the Germans.  Geiger counters were discretely placed throughout the city to detect radioactivity.  Gratefully, such weapons were never introduced.  Meanwhile, the Allies conceived of a plan to construct an invasion route tunnel under the waters of the English Channel as a means of covertly reaching the shores of France.  This plan, too, never met fruition.  Finally, rumors of a diehard Nazi fortress built within the Alps as a last stand location of the Third Reich swirled around the Allied high command.  Atkinson called this ungrounded fable as one of the "WMD" myths of its time.  All of these intriguing tales and many more will be discussed in his book to be released this week.

Following his talk, Atkinson replied to numerous inquiries from the audience.  All of them were thought-provoking and generally well-informed.  A majority of them dealt with hypotheticals and alternative history.  What if the Normandy Invasion had failed?  What were the contingency plans?  What if more Germans had been stationed in that region?  Wishing to gain a better comprehension of Atkinson's historical methodology, I decided to pose a question myself.  I asked, of all of the thousands of primary sources that he utilized in his work, was there one in particular which especially surprised, shocked, or inspired him?  His answer was perhaps the best of his many personal and insightful comments of the evening.

Atkinson conveyed the story of General Lesley J. McNair, an American commander instrumental in Operation Cobra--the Allied effort to breakout of Normandy's dense hedgerow country.  Observing the movement of his troops on July 25, 1944, he and hundreds of his subordinates came under heavy friendly fire from the 8th Air Force.  McNair was killed in the misplaced bombardment.  His subsequent funeral was held in secret.  On a trip to the National Archives, Atkinson encountered the map McNair was holding at the time of his death.  The paper was covered in the reddish-brown stains that was once the blood flowing out of the general's body.  Atkinson admitted that tangibles as such serve as a stark visual reminder of the war as a whole.  These artifacts make the horrendous history more palpable, more emotional, and more human.  The task of the historian, he said, is to present the intimately personal within the macro narrative and analysis.  If one does not conduct their work in such a manner, the deeper meaning of the story will be lost amidst statistics and maneuvers.  Furthermore, if a historian is not dramatically moved by the individual stories of tragedy, humor, or the triumph of their subject matter, they truly need to reexamine their mission.  So there you have it.

I enthusiastically had Atkinson sign all three copies of his Liberation Trilogy for me and I highly anticipate reading the final installment.  His talk was engrossing and I look forward to discussing more history with him in the future.  My visit to the museum in which the talk was held was equally captivating and edifying.  That will be the subject of a blog post to come.  Stay tuned and carry on!

My upward view during Atkinson's lecture in the brand new Boeing Center at the museum.  (This was the first time I enjoyed hors d'oeuvres under the wings of a B-17 and a P-51!)

Join Rick Atkinson for a conversation about his latest work.

His book is to be released May 14, 2013.  I received an advanced copy and you should get one too!  You will not regret the purchase.  Click here.  Enjoy!