The Duplex Drive Tanks of Omaha Beach, Part (e) Success at the Dog Beaches

The Price of a Beachhead. Knocked out Duplex Drive tank of the 743rd Tank Battalion and casualties from the 29th Infantry Division, astride the seawall near the boundary of Dog Green and Dog White. This never-before-published photo was taken by Tech/3 Burton Hartman, Detachment Q, 165th Signal Photo Company, and is used here with the permission of his son, Barry. It’s believed to have been taken early D+2. (Copyright protected, use without the permission of Barry Harman is forbidden)

Introduction

In the previous installment (The Duplex Drive Tanks of Omaha Beach, Part (d) The Debacle Off Easy Red and Fox Green) we followed the story of the DD tanks of Army Captains (CPT) James Thornton and Charles Young, and the Landing Craft (Tanks) (LCTs) of Lieutenant (junior grade) (Lt.(jg)) Barry that carried them to the eastern half Omaha Beach.  That account focused on the series of bad decisions, poor planning and mistakes in execution that culminated in 27 of the 32 DD tanks sinking before reaching the beach.  This installment follows the DD tanks of the 743rd Tank Battalion, which were scheduled to land on the western half of Omaha Beach.  These tanks belonged to Company B (CPT Charles W. Ehmke) and Company C (CPT Ned S. Elder) and were embarked in eight LCTs under the command of Lt.(jg) Dean Rockwell, USNR.

In contrast to the debacle on the eastern half of Omaha Beach, the popular story of the landing of the 743rd’s tanks was one of complete success, due primarily to the excellent judgement and resolve of Lt.(jg) Rockwell - and maybe CPT Elder, too, depending on which story you read.[1]  Those versions of events might possibly have been influenced by the fact that the only source for them was Rockwell himself.  Neither of the Army company commanders survived long enough to bear witness to what happened that day.  Captain Ehmke was killed soon after his treads met sand on D-Day.  Captain Elder was killed in action on 14 July (coincidently, the same day Rockwell submitted his report on the landings).  The confusion resulting from the intense combat and casualties during the landings resulted in the battalion’s documentation of the day being rather incomplete.

So, the story of the battalion’s landing has been almost completely dominated by Rockwell’s contemporary official report and Read Admiral (RADM) Hall’s self-serving endorsement letter.  That is, until a new narrative appeared in the early 1990s which called a significant aspect of the ‘official’ account into question.  Unfortunately, this new narrative had extremely limited exposure, which is a shame, since it, too, came from the pen of the former Lt.(jg) Dean Rockwell.

Sortie and Crossing

As discussed in the previous installment, the initial 4 June sortie had been halted and turned around due to an unfavorable weather forecast for 5 June, the original invasion date.  The false start helped the DD/LCT force as it permitted hasty repairs to some ramp gear that had been damaged in the initial sortie, as well as replacing one LCT engine.

The false start had also demonstrated to Rockwell that the revised sailing formation had placed Lt.(jg) Barry in a position from which it was impossible to control the eight LCTs in his division.[2]  Less than 3 hours prior to the second sortie, Rockwell switched the officers in charge (OICs) of two LCTs, placing Barry at the lead of his force.[3]  It was good decision, but made far too late, and was to add to the confusion in that division on D-Day.

Rockwell was spared that confusion within his own division.  Unlike Barry (who was assigned as the OIC of LCT-537) Rockwell was the commander of an LCT group and was not the OIC of a vessel.  To cope with the new sailing formation, he could shift his flag from craft to craft without disrupting the internal chain of command of his LCTs

During the crossing of the English Channel, Rockwell exercised command over all 16 of the DD/LCTs headed for Omaha Beach, to include Barry’s division.  During this second sortie, the DD/LCTs encountered additional confusion caused by the Utah Beach convoys that hadn’t had time to return to their ports of origin and had taken shelter in Weymouth Bay.  It was chaotic, to put it mildly.  When dawn came, the mass of shipping began to try to shake itself out into some semblance of order.  Due to a shortage of minesweeping flotillas and time in which they could operate, the convoy lanes were narrow and the convoys themselves became intermixed and partially disrupted by smaller towed craft that had broken free of their tows.  Amid this mess, Rockwell realized he’d lost one LCT.  After searching for it for most of the morning, he found his lost LCT-713 sailing in a nearby convoy headed for Utah beach, and he ushered it back into formation.  Perhaps it was no surprise. LCT-713 was one of the last craft built and one of the last craft to join the Omaha Beach LCT flotillas; craft and crew were as green as they came.  Despite the challenges of heavy weather in the Channel and confused traffic in the convoy lanes, the multitude of ships and craft managed to arrive at the Transport Area anchorage off the Omaha Assault Area, in confused and straggling formations, but or more or less on time.

The D-Day Convoy Routes. This chart shows how convoys from all of the invasion points converged at Point Z (ZED) near the Isle of Wight before turning towards the coast of France. Although necessary due to the short time allotted minesweeping, the narrowness of the lanes resulted in jammed and confused traffic.

From Point K to the 6,000 Yard Line

On each flank of the Transport Area (23,000 yards off Omaha Beach) there was a rendezvous area for LCTs, one for the LCTs of Assault Group O-1 and one for those of Assault Group O-2.  However, as the DD/LCTs would be first wave, and as they had arrived late, Rockwell brought both his and Barry’s divisions directly to Point K (aka Point King), located at the western limit of the O-2 boat lanes.  At that point Barry’s and Rockwell’s divisions were to separate, with Barry’s eight craft continuing eastward to Point K-L (King-Love) on the western flank of the O-1 boat lanes. (See chart).[4]   

Point K was an important and busy location early on 6 June.  Also due to rendezvous at Point K were:  eight Landing Craft (Armored) (LCT(A)) carrying wading tanks and tank dozers; eight Landing Craft, Mechanized (LCM) carrying the gap assault teams for the O-2 beach sectors; three control craft; and 12 landing Craft, Support (Small) (LCS(S)).[5]  In addition, two Landing Craft Infantry (LCI), carrying the deputy assault group commanders for O-1 and O-2 would be there to shepherd the first waves into position.  Rockwell placed his arrival in the Transport Area at 0345 hours and proceeded to Point K, where, he stated, he was met by LCS(S)s “that were to lead us to the line of departure.”[6]  This was not quite accurate. 

Lt.(jg) Bucklew, the OIC of the 12 LCS(S)s told a different story.  He reported he, too, arrived at Point K at about 0345 hours where he found the DD/LCTs, the LCT(A)s and the LCMs.  However, none of his other 11 LCS(S)s had arrived, and the guide craft had already set off down the fire support lane.  The LCS(S)s had not made the Channel crossing on their own bottoms, rather were ferried over on the decks of Landing Ships, Tank (LSTs) and attack transports.  As these larger ships arrived, they hoisted out the LCS(S)s, who then set out individually or in groups of two or three to find Point K in the dark, with only Bucklew’s craft arriving on time.  Neither of the deputy assault group commanders were to be seen. 

Bucklew made the command decision to remain at Point K and look for his lost LCS(S)s, and Rockwell made the command decision to proceed down the fire support lane to try to catch up with the guide craft.  Each of these turned out to be a correct decision.  Bucklew soon located his missing craft and the fast LCS(S)s caught up with the lumbering LCTs, taking station in two columns flanking the DD/LCTs.  Rockwell was able to maintain contact with the control craft as he followed them down the fire support channel. 

When Rockwell turned right into the fire support channel at Point K to pursue the guide craft, his formation had changed from two columns of four LCTs each into a single column of eight LCTs.  It was during this evolution that the break in Barry’s division occurred (as discussed in the previous installment), with LCT-537 and LCT-603 mistakenly following Rockwell down the wrong channel.

As the DD/LCTs proceeded down the lane, the craft went to general quarters and the chains holding the tanks securely to the decks were removed.  The tank crews began inflating the skirts and the Navy crew wetted down the canvas skirts with pumps.  Once the skirts were inflated, the tankers and sailors could only communicate by shouting over the high canvas sides; not only was radio silence still in effect, but the Navy and Army radios were equipped with crystals that did not permit operation on the same frequencies.  With the engines of both the LCTs and tanks running, verbal communication between sailors and soldiers was difficult.  Communications between craft had to rely on visual signals, and communications between tank units was impossible – at least as long as they honored the radio silence dictate.

Rockwell’s action report provided little detail for this portion of the operation.  Fortunately, in the early 1990s, he was contacted by Stephen Ambrose and agreed to tape record his D-Day experiences.  (Ambrose did not conduct the interview, Rockwell simply recorded his story.)   Although held in the Eisenhower Center at the University of New Orleans, Rockwell’s oral history has been largely overlooked.  Patrick Ungashick located a transcript of this recording (along with a number of associated documents) while researching his book, A Day for Leadership: Business Insights for Today’s Executives and Teams from the D-Day Battle.  This transcript provided a bit more in the way of minor details (to include the earlier anecdote about the wayward LCT-713).

Omaha Beach and Surrounding Waters. This is a detail from the Omaha Assault Area Diagram which was contained in the Assault Group O-2/CTG 124.4 operation order. I’ve added colored notes and graphics to highlight items discussed in the article. The red arrows depict Rockwell’s DD/LCT division’s movements.

During the crossing of the Channel, the bombardment force, including two battleships and three cruisers, had overtaken the LCT convoy, and these ships were already anchored in their designated positions in the fire support channels.  Ahead of Rockwell in his lane were the older American battleship USS Texas (BB-35) and the British light cruiser HMS Glasgow (pennant number C21).  The Texas (Rockwell thought it was the battleship USS Arkansas, which was in the eastern fire support area) was a large ship and it was anchored across the narrow channel.  Heavily ladened, shallow-draft, and buffeted by waves and wind, the DD/LCTs found it a challenge to avoid the Texas in the pre-dawn darkness.  One of the LCTs lacked the seamanship to get by without scraping paint.  The battleship was unfazed, but the LCT’s launching gear was damaged.  Rockwell omitted this incident from his official report but included it in his oral history.[7]  He didn’t identify the hit-and-run LCT, and none of the reports from his LCT OICs confessed to this accident.  The report from LCT-713 (Ens White) did note that on beaching, his ramp extensions were damaged, so it may have been the culprit.[8]

Rockwell’s account makes no mention the Deputy Commander of Assault Group O-2.  As you recall from the previous installment, CAPT Imlay, the Deputy Commander for O-1, was supposed to meet Barry’s DD/LCTs at Point K, but did not link up with them until near the 6,000 yard line.  CAPT Wright, the Deputy Command for O-2, was also supposed to meet up with Rockwell’s division at Point K, but on arriving he decided it should stop at Ponit K-2 (a few hundred yards farther offshore) to direct the arriving craft.  From there he proceeded to the LST anchorage area to supervise the unloading of the DUKWs.  Wright’s normal job was Commander, LST Flotilla 12, and this probably accounted for why he allowed his focus to be diverted from the first waves.  He did not proceed inshore to the beaches until 1100 hours.  As a result, despite being the deputy assault group commander, he played no role in organizing and dispatching the early waves in the boat lanes.[9]

A senior officer who was present close inshore was CAPT L. S. Sabin, Commander, Gunfire Support Craft (CTG 124.8).  Although he did not control Rockwell’s division during the approach to the beach, Sabin did command the convoy in which Rockwell’s DD/LCT group sailed to Point K, and he commanded the gunfire and rocket craft that were supporting Rockwell’s LCTs.  He had also sailed down the same fire support channel as Rockwell, shepherding his gun and rocket craft into position just behind the DD/LCTs.  As a result, Sabin paid close attention to the DD/LCTs that morning.  While stationed close inshore before H-Hour, he reported:

“At least one LCT(DD) was observed to the westward, apparently having gone to Utah by mistake.  He was headed back to Omaha, but it was obvious he could not make his position in time.”[10]

Rockwell did not mention this incident, either then or later, nor did any of his OICs admit to it. CAPT Sabin’s report was detailed and appears precise and accurate.  It cannot be easily dismissed.  Sabin’s observation is supported by Folkestad’s The View from the Turret. Folkestad cited an interview with Harry Hansen, then a lieutenant with the DD tanks of Co. C, 743rd Tank Battalion.  Hansen stated during the Channel crossing, his LCT lost power and fell out of the convoy.  Eventually the engines were restarted and the lone LCT wandered off course, eventually having to ask instructions from a French fishermen.  This was probably the lost DD/LCT Sabin saw.[11]  Hansen earned the Distinguished Service Cross, the Silver Star, the Bronze Star, and the French Croix de Guerre (with Palm).[12]  And he ended the war as a captain.  His account, too, must be taken seriously. Together, their accounts are fairly damaging to the credibility of Rockwell and his OICs, who portrayed the run into the beach as smooth and well organized, with not a hint of lost craft.

Despite these incidents, the column reached a point approximately 5-6000 yards offshore by 0515 hours (according to Rockwell’s official report) then turned left, proceeding parallel to the shore until the craft were opposite their target beaches at 0540 hours, at which time they turned right into line abreast formation facing the beach.  There are minor differences when these maneuvers took place.  Ensign Gilfert (LCT-590, last in the line of eight LCTs) reported the turns at 0530 hours and 0540 hours. Ensign Cook (LCT-588, fifth in line) reported the turn toward the beach as 0530 hours.

There are two versions of what happened next, and they differ in a key respect.  Unfortunately, both versions come from Rockwell.  We’ll first examine the version based on his 14 June action report and later consider the version from his oral history.

In his 14 July report on D-Day, Rockwell stated:

 “At 0505 this command [referring to himself in the third person] contacted Captain Elder via tank radio and we were in perfect accord that the LCTs carrying the tanks of the 743rd battalion would not launch, but put the tanks directly on the designated beaches.  Accordingly, all ships did a 90 degree flanking movement at 0540 and proceeded to the beach with the guide ship – LCT 535 – of this command touching down at 0629.  The others all touched within two minutes.”

In addition to specifying the time of the launch-or-land discussion (0505 hours), Rockwell’s account sequenced the decision well before the command to turn right into line abreast to face the beach.  Again, there is some disagreement on this timing.  Ensign Gilfert (LCT-590) recorded that he got the word they would land the tanks at 0500 hours, and Ens Novotny (LCT-591) received the word at 0505 hours, supporting Rockwell’s time.  Ensign Cook (LCT-588) said the Army captain informed him of the change “previous to” the flanking turn (which he placed at 0530 hours).  But Ens Dinsmore (LCT-589) stated “It was 0530 when we decided the sea was too rough for the launching of the DD tanks.”  Ensign Carey (LCT-586) did not state a time, but recorded, “. . .  a short while later, orders came across the Army radio to form a line abreast and all ships land on the beach.  This we did.”  And Ens Pellegrini (commanding LCT-535, in which Rockwell rode) also gave no time for this decision, but placed it immediately before the turn into line abreast in his sequence of events.  (The remaining two OICs, Ens White (LCT-713) and Ens Demao (LCT-587) did not mention when they received word of the change.)

Oddly enough, four of the six OICs (to include the OIC of the craft Rockwell was aboard) reported the decision being made, or their receipt of that decision, between the time the column turned left to parallel the beach, and the right flank turn into line abreast.  This would place the decision close to the scheduled launch time for the DD tanks (0535 hours).  Only two OICs supported Rockwell’s earlier time.  The wording of Dinsmore’s report is especially noteworthy.  He didn’t say he received word of the change.  He stated: “It was 0530 when we decided the sea was too rough for the launching . . . “ [Emphasis added] That seems to imply the decision was made on his craft, which would also imply CPT Elder was aboard.  We don’t know what craft Elder was on, and it’s risky to parse inexact timelines too closely, but this raises a possibility.

I question Rockwell’s assertion that he initiated contact with his Army counterpart.  Both Army and Navy were still supposed to be on radio silence, and if anyone was going to break that order, it should only have been the senior officer on that particular radio net: Elder for the Army net and Rockwell for the Navy net.  Was Rockwell really the kind of man to manipulate a junior officer of a sister service into violating that order, when he didn’t have the courage to do it on his own net?  I suspect, instead, that if the call took place on the Army net, then it was initiated by the senior Army officer on that net: Elder.  Which would imply Elder first made the decision not to launch, as Dinsmore’s report seemed to say.

In fact, Rockwell was not consistent on the matter of who initiated the call.  In his oral history, he gave a different version.  In it he stated:

“. . . I was in communication by low power tank radio (even though all communications was forbidden prior to H-hour, the decision to launch or not to launch into the sea was absolutely critical to the success of the Invasion.  We broke radio silence.  What the hell, by now the Germans were aware what was about to happen) with a Captain Elder, of the 743rd tank battalion.   We made the joint decision that it would be insane to launch . . . The next signal to all our craft and to the tank commanders that we would proceed to the beach, which we did.  And when our landing craft drove up on the shore, the ramps were dropped and the tanks drove off, with their shrouds down, ready to provide coverage to the infantry units that were to come in behind them.”[13]

[As with all oral history and interview transcripts, the narrative reflects the natural speaking style of the individual, resulting in some odd wording and at times confusing syntax.  I have not attempted to ‘clean up’ the text and have quoted them as they were transcribed.]

So, in this later version, Rockwell no longer claimed he initiated the call.  This may seem a minor point, but it is important to remember that from the very start, Rockwell believed that the launch-or-land decision should be the sole responsibility of an Army officer.  He clearly stated this in his 30 April 1944 report to RADM Hall on the DD tank and LCT training programs.[14]  And he reiterated it in the days before the sortie, when he pressed for a single Army officer to decide for both battalions. 

Yet he sang a much different tune after the successful landing of the 743rd’s DD tanks.  Suddenly he was the man with the expert knowledge, common sense, authority, and responsibility and was acting to forestall a mistake.  Six years after his muted version in the 1992 oral history, he was back to playing the role of the decisive man at the critical moment.  As he stated in a letter to Ambrose on 3 August 1998:

“I’m flattered by the credit you gave me for the part I played.  Really, it was only a matter of a good judgement and a little knowledge of seamanship.  The sea was too rough for the survival of the D.D. tanks.  By tank radio the Army agreed with me.  (I was going to take them to the beach even if the Army had disagreed.)  As the senior Navy officer afloat directing this portion of the invasion, I had the authority and a responsibility to act.”[15]

This stands in stark contrast to his position before 6 June that he should have no role in such a decision.  His later insistence on claiming to be the initiator of that decision—or co-equal in the decision—seems to be a rather crude case of rewriting history.

Deciphering Directions. Maneuver terms may be hard to visualize for those not familiar with military matters. This picture shows how Rockwell’s division of LCTs changed formations from Point K to the beach.

The Run into the Beach

After turning right into line abreast and facing the beach, the DD/LCTs could not immediately drive ahead.  They had reached the 6,000 yard launch line early, early enough to allow the slow-swimming DD tanks to reach the shore at their scheduled H-10 minutes.  But with the decision to land, adjustments had to be made.  Since the LCTs were faster than the DD tanks, they had to slow their approach to avoid beaching too early, especially since in a landing scenario, they were supposed to beach 10 minutes later, alongside the LCT(A)s at H-Hour.  Ideally, this would put 32 DD tanks, 16 standard wading tanks and 8 tank dozers on the beach almost simultaneously.  So, Rockwell’s DD/LCTs initially ambled along, hoping the LCT(A)s of the next wave would catch up by H-Hour.

In Ambrose’s book D-Day, June 6, 1944: The Climactic Battle of World War II, the author’s dramatic narrative described Rockwell’s run to the beach in these terms:

“Further, the smoke obscured Rockwell’s landmarks.  But a shift of the wind rolled back the smoke for a moment and Rockwell saw he was being set to the east by the tide.  He changed course to starboard and increased speed; the other skippers saw this move and did the same.  At the moment the naval barrage lifted, Rockwell’s little group was exactly opposite Dog White and Dog Green, the tanks firing furiously.”[16]

Aside from the obvious error (the DD tanks could not fire over the ramps of their LCT; Ambrose confused the DD/LCTS and the LCT(A)s), something is amiss here.  None of Rockwell’s correspondence with Ambrose mentions anything written in that paragraph.  Instead, Ambrose seems to have taken the experiences of another man and portrayed them as Rockwell’s—right down to the use of the nautical term ‘set’ for current direction—with some modifications to enhance Rockwell’s image . That man turns out to be Lt.(jg) Bucklew, whose LCS(S)s led Rockwell’s division from the 6,000 yard line to the beach, with one LCS(S) preceding each LCT to guide and to provide suppressive fires with rockets and machine guns.  And it was Bucklew who was responsible for navigation during that phase.  Bucklew’s account had this to say.

“4.  . . . The LCT’s and LCS(S)’s then ran at slow speed to allow the LCT(A)’s of the first wave to catch up.  Beach objects and Control Vessels were now visible, and the ascertaining of our position was now assured.

“5. Upon crossing the line of departure, beaching formation was taken by the LCT’s and LCT(A)’s, with LCS(S)’s slightly ahead and guiding them in.  When about 2000 yards off shore, beach identification showed that the group was being set to the left.  Course was changed to remedy this and speed increased to maximum to allow beaching on time.

“6.  When about 400 yards out, directed two rockets to be fired as ranging shots.  On observing them explode in the Target Area, all LCS(S)’s opened fire, firing quick salvos and maintaining a continuous fire for about five minutes.  By continuously advising the leader of the LCT’s (LCT 535) as to what course to steer or what object on the beach to head for, and by constantly urging him to make his maximum speed, it was possible to hit the proper beach at nearly H-Hour.  The leading LCT with DD tanks (LCT 535) beached at about 0632 hours . . . “[17]

The reports from Rockell’s OICs indicate they initially took fire in the vicinity of the Line of Departure, by which they actually meant the 6000 yard launch line. (The actual Line of Departure (LOD) was 3,500-4,000 yards out, but for some reason the DD/LCT crews all referred to the 6,000 yard line as the LOD).  Fire became more intense and more accurate as they closed to the beach.

As with virtually all landings that day, the exact location they touched down can’t be precisely determined, although most leaders tended to believe they landed exactly on target, as Rockwell believed.  A dissenting report came from Lt.(jg) J. L. Bruckner aboard PC567, which was the Primary Control Vessel for the Dog Green beach sector (Vierville-sur-Mere and the D-1 Exit), where four of Rockwell’s LCTs should have landed.  That craft reported it was on station, 4,500 yards and at bearing of 210 degrees(T) from Dog Green at 0517 hours, well before Bucklew’s and Rockwell’s craft came along.[18]  PC567’s report is a bit confusing.  It first stated that it saw none of the four DD/LCTs slated for Dog Green and had no idea where they went.  It went on to state that two ‘lost LCT(A)s’ reported in, and even though they were at the wrong beach sector, the PC waved them in.  In fact, the two ‘LCT(A)s’ he mentioned (LCT-590 and LCT-591) were actually Rockwell’s two right-most DD/LCTs, the #7 and #8 in his formation. 

Despite this error, PC567’s report contained two points of value.  First, Rockwell’s right flank was off course so far to the east that two of the four LCTs (the #5 and #6 LCTs in the formation) missed reporting to the Primary Control Vessel and presumably landed in the next beach sector to the east (Dog White).  CAPT Bailey, Commander, Assault Group O-2, observed in his own action report that PC567 “did not maintain station as accurately as it should.”[19]  Since the current at that time was pulling PC567 to the east, that would mean Bucklew and Rockwell were even farther off course than suspected.  And second, by the time they passed the Line of Departure, they were five minutes late.  While this may have been at least partially overcome by Bucklew hectoring Rockwell to make best speed, Bucklew nevertheless reported they touched down two minutes late.  It is not a terribly significant delay given the chaos of the landings.  But it does tend to emphasize the meaninglessness of Rockwell’s oft-peddled claim that his was the first craft to beach on Omaha, touching down at 0629:30 hours.

The Landing. This image illustrates the beaching positions of Rockwell’s eight LCTs. The dashed LCT icons show the beach sectors they were intended to land on. The solid LCT icons represent the approximate sectors where they did beach - based on my interpretation of conflicting sources.

A Cruel Coast

The traditional account of the landing of the 743rd Tank Battalion has it that all 32 of the DD tanks of Companies B and C were delivered safely to the beach.  That isn’t quite true.  In drawing a contrast with the fate of the 741st Tank Battalion’s DD tanks, a bit of exaggeration crept into the story.  

For one thing, ‘landing directly on the beach’ was a bit of a misnomer.  With the draft of an LCT and the very gradual gradient on Omaha’s beach, the tanks would not land with ‘dry feet.’  They would be dropped into the surf, often with the water so deep it could drown out the tank engines.  That is why the non-DD tanks, often called the ‘waders,’ were equipped with deep wading kits that protected the engines and had chimney-like ‘stacks’ that took the air intakes and exhaust vents above even the turret level.  As a result, the DD tanks would need to keep their flotation screens inflated during beaching or risk drowning-out in the surf.  However, this point was not appreciated by some the DD tank crews because the beach gradient at their training site in Torcross didn’t pose this problem. When the tanks beached there in training, they exited in shallow water. Misled by their training, almost all of the tankers deflated their skirts when they learned they would be put down ‘on the beach’, and the tankers aboard a couple LCTs even ditched ‘unneeded’ parts of their flotation equipment. As it would turn out, almost all of the tanks would exit in water requiring inflated skirts, and some would have to actually swim some distances—usually short—before touching sand. These errors would cost them precious time under fire while beached, and ultimately lives and tanks. It isn’t clear whether Rockwell and his OICs were aware of the different beach gradient at Omaha, or understood its implications. If so, it doesn’t seem to have been passed on to the tankers.

Company B’s Landing

The 16 DD tanks of Co. B were embarked on the last four LCTs in the column formation, which placed them on the right flank when the formation turned right into line abreast.  The 743rd Tank Battalion S-3 (Operations) Journal includes an account of Co. B’s landing, stating they landed on Dog Green, which was their intended sector.[20]  But given that only the farthest two LCTs on the right (#7 and #8 in line) encountered the Primary Control Vessel for that beach, and given this LCC was probably drifting too far east, it seems likely the lead two LCTs (#5 and #6) of that section landed on the neighboring Dog White. 

The OICs of these four LCTs described their landings as follows (from right to left, facing the beach).

Ensign Robert B. Gilfert (OIC of LCT-590, #8 in line) reported:

“0630  Hit beach with rockets still falling around us. 

“0630-0634  On beach waiting for tanks to go off.  Were shelled by shore batteries and machine gun fire.  Return fire with our 20mm gun and machine gun of first tank. 

“0634 Last tank went off and we retracted from beach.”

Ensign George W. Novotny (OIC of LCT-591, #7 in line), provided the most bare-bones account, consisting of just these three paragraphs.:

“1.  0505  Received word to take tanks to beach.  Tank men threw all launching gear overboard immediately. 

“2.  Hit beach Dog Green at 0630 and unloaded tanks.  First tank was hit by 88 when five yards from LCT.  Other tanks stopped alongside first tank.

“3.  In my opinion launching gear should not be scuttled until last minute.  If LCT should sink, tanks might float free or waves might permit launching at 1000 yards.”

Ensign Floyd S. White (OIC of LCT-713, #6 in column) ran into problems when beaching at H-5 minutes (0625 hours) about 50-75 yards shy of the Element C obstacles.  When lowering the ramp, the ramp extensions were hanging askew, and the ramp was raised to discover the extension supports had been sheared off.  The ramp was lowered again, but the lead tank commander hesitated; believing they would be dropped off in shallow water, his tanks had previously deflated their skirts.  It took “about 15 minutes” to reinflate, but the supporting struts for the first tank’s canvas were not locked into place when the tank cleared the ramp.  It sank straight to the bottom, the skirt not being strong enough to hold against the water pressure.  After rescuing the tank’s crew, White retracted his LCT and beached again about 150 yards to the east, where “after a short delay, the other three tanks were successfully launched.”  During this time, the ship was hit and set afire.”  The choice of the word “launched” indicates they had to swim some short distance—presumably not very far.  All these maneuvers resulted in the LCT not retracting the final time until 0710 hours, 45 minutes after its initial beaching.

Ensign William C. Cook (OIC of LCT-588, #5 in line) reported:

“At 0635 we beached as far as the ship could go on the beach.  The captain thought the water might be too deep and would aid [?] them to inflate again.  After doing this, they were able to reach the shore without any difficulty and the last I saw of them they were proceeding up the beach firing.”

From this it isn’t clear if any of these DD tanks had to swim.

The report of the first three LCTs reflect more intense enemy fire, as would be expected from the craft landing closest to the defenses of the D-1 draw.  In addition to LCT-713 being set after, Gilfert on LCT-590 (the LCT closest to the D-1 Draw) lost three killed and two wounded during this beaching.

The account of Co. B’s landing contained in the S-Journal is brief and grim. 

“Company ‘B’ landed on Dog Green beach, Normandy, France, at 0630 hours, 6 June 1944.  Water was very rough, DD tanks were not landed.  Heavy enemy fire was encountered, 88mm, heavy and light MG.  Losses were quite heavy, 7 tanks lost, 3 officers and six enlisted men killed, and one officer wounded.”

The comment that “DD tanks were not landed” stands out, and the first instinct is to think it meant to say “were not launched.”  As only one company officer remained in action by the end of D-Day (a second lieutenant) it’s possible that whoever penned this entry for Co. B was not bothered with precise wording.  Yet William Folkestad, in his book The View from the Turret, claimed Co. B’s tanks did swim in.[21]  And Novotny’s account of the tanks landing after throwing away their swimming gear indicates at least some of the tanks were landed in­­ shallow water.  But was he correct in thinking they survived the surf? We don’t know.

As mentioned in the previous installment, in the 1980s, Captain Robert Rowe, USN (Ret.) conducted a series of interviews with men of the 741st and 743rd Tank Battalions.  One of the men he interviewed was Jerome T. Latimer (69 years old at the time of the interview on 5 August 1989).  Latimer was the gunner in CPT Ehmke’s tank, and he gave a much different account of his landing.[22]

LATIMER:  . . .  I know that in the LCT I was at in the invasion, there were 12 of them that were killed.  There were only 8 that got ashore.

ROWE:  Now uh, tell me about that.  Where were you, where were you hit?

LATIMER:  We were hit as soon as we got off the LCT.  I fired 3 shots and we got hit 3 times. 

ROWE:  When you went off the LCT, uh, where on the beach were you in relation to the Vierville Draw? 

LATIMER:  We were oh, just a little bit to the left of it.

ROWE:  Just a little bit.

LATIMER:  Uh, whatever direction that is.  That would be east.

ROWE:  Well that was east, yeah.

LATIMER:  Yeah, we were a little east of the, of Vierville.  That was exit 2, right? [Note: that would be Exit D-1. -CRH]

ROWE:  Yeah.  Were there any tanks to your right?

LATIMER:   No.  No tanks to the right.  There were to the left but not to the right, that I can remember.

ROWE:  Well -  what I’m getting at – you were the right-hand flank, uh.

LATIMER:  I think so.  I think so.

ROWE:  Uh, LCT coming in.

LATIMER:  Yeah.

ROWE:  Now, when you said that 12 men were uh, killed, uh, they were killed after the tanks had been, reached the beach.

LATIMER:  Well, uh, no.  No.  They never got.  What the hell, we only got, maybe 30 feet up the beach.

ROWE:  Yeah.

LATIMER:  And then the other tanks went off in the water.  After, after Ehmke’s tank got off the, the LCT, the LCT began backing up and the other tanks went right down in the water.

ROWE:  Now, when they went down in the water - -

LATIMER:  There weren’t any tanks hit.  They were, the tanks went in the water.  They never had a chance. 

ROWE:  They sank.

LATIMER:  Yeah.  I know there was only, there was 12 of them killed out of the, out of the 20 that were on the LCT.  And that’s a big chunk on that page where it shows all the guys that were killed from B-Company. 

ROWE:  And that was B-Company.

LATIMER:  Yeah.

ROWE:  Uh, you said the LCT, it beached for your landing. 

LATIMER:  Yeah.  It hit the beach, down went the ramp.  Now, this was told to me.  I don’t know.  I don’t remember even who told me.  If you can find somebody else who was on the LCT.  After we left, you know they, they throw out that uh, that wench I think they call it, or a hook.

ROWE:  Yeah.

LATIMER:  They throw it out and it digs into the sand.  After the Captain’s tank went off the ramp and started up the ramp the LCT started backing up.  That’s when the 3 tanks behind me went in the water.

ROWE:  Three tanks, that’s 15 men.  Twelve of those 15 were killed.

LATIMER:  Twenty men, 20 men.  There’s 4 tanks, 5 in a tank.

ROWE:  Yeah, but you got off.

LATIMER:  Well, there, yeah, I know, but there was 4 guys killed in the tank I was in, so there was 8 behind me that was killed.

As with almost all oral histories recorded decades after the war, memories and details are vague in some parts and seemingly razor sharp in others, and both just as likely to be in error as true.  Deciding which details are reliable and which are false memories is a daunting task.  Latimer’s insistence that the three tanks following his sank as the LCT retracted is tempered by his admission that he was told those details by somebody else (though eight of the men in those tanks were verified as lost on D-Day).  Nevertheless, his account illustrates the much different perspectives between those left to fight, and those who dropped their loads and withdrew – a universal feature of military operations.  I can attest to this from the time I hung suspended in my parachute harness from a tree a few hundred yards from the drop zone on an exercise the Air Force reported as a perfect drop.

The detail of the LCT backing up raises a possibility. When launching DD tanks, LCTs were required to be backing up at about 1100 RPM. So this might indicate the OIC thought the water was so deep that the tanks would have to swim, and was executing the launching maneuver. But were the skirts inflated, as was required for swimming? And if so, why then did the three tanks sink? Every source merely adds to the contradictions.

Unfortunately, this interview further confuses the matter of which LCT carried Ehmke.  If Lattimer and Ehmke were aboard the right flank’s LCT as Latimer believed, it suggests Elder was in the corresponding LCT in the other division.  That would be Dinsmore’s LCT-589.  And that would support the idea that Dinsore’s comment (“. . . at 0530 we decided the sea was . . .”) meant Elder made the landed decision and did so 20 minutes after Rockwell claimed. 

If, on the other hand, the 743rd’s placement of company commanders mirrored that of the 741st, then Ehmke would have been in Novotny’s LCT-591, which links Novotny’s and Lattimer’s claims of the first tank being hit right after leaving the ramp.  And although Novotny stated the other three tanks exited and stopped by the first, his exceedingly bare-bones account perhaps hinted at details he thought best be omitted.  Two of his three short paragraphs dealt with the tankers’ decision to dump their landing gear.  One could interpret this as an attempt to shift blame to the tankers for whatever befell the last three tanks as he withdrew from the beach (if indeed it happened as Latimer asserted).

And finally, Ehmke may have been aboard Cook’s LCT-588, as Cook referred to the Army officer aboard his craft as ‘captain’ twice.  Ehmke was the only Army captain in this LCT section, so, unless Cook was confused by Army rank insignia (a real possibility) then this would mean it was Ehmke in Cook’s LCT. 

As a result, we simply don’t know where Ehmke was.

Although Lattimer’s interview directly contradicts Rockwell and his OICs, there is support for it.  In the Army’s Omaha Beachhead, it reported that:

“Company B, coming in directly in the face of the Vierville draw, suffered from enemy artillery fire.  The LCT carrying the company commander was sunk just off shore, and four other officers were killed or wounded, leaving one lieutenant in Company B.  Eight of that company’s 16 tanks landed and started to fire from the water’s edge on enemy positions.”[23]

This account confirms the loss of Ehmke and the four tanks on his LCT, although it attributes it to enemy fire LCT sinking the craft, which we know did not happen.  In addition, Folkestad’s The View from the Turret also stated that one DD tank swam off the ramp.[24]  It’s LCT then reversed, and the following tanks drove off the ramp into deeper water and sank.  So, perhaps we shouldn’t be too eager to discount 45-year-old memories.

One point is clear: Co. B’s tanks were not all landed safely on the beach, as popular history suggests.  The question remains, what happened to the eight tanks that did not ‘land’? How and where were they lost.

Company C’s Landing

Although Rockwell directly commanded the division of eight LCTs carrying the 743rd’s DD tanks, he was aboard LCT-535, which was the far left (eastern) LCT in the four-LCT section targeted to land on Dog White beach sector.  This section carried CPT Elder’s Co. C. 

Tracking this section’s landing area is a bit difficult due to two errors in the operation plan for Assault Group O-2.[25]  First, both the Landing Diagram and the Approach Schedules show the original placement of Rockwell’s two sections.  As you will recall from the previous installment, Rockwell had embarked the two companies on the wrong LCT sections.  By the time the error was recognized, it was too late to unload and reload, so RADM Hall had to issue a change to the Force O operations order switching the sections so that the tank companies would land in the proper sectors.  NARA’s archival copy of the Assault Group O-2 order does not have Hall’s change annotated on the pages, so that must be taken into account.

Second, the Omaha Assault Area chart (also part of the O-2 order) mislabeled two beach sectors, transposing Dog White and Dog Red.  Although the mistaken labels are crossed out and the correct labels written in Figure X, that correction may not have been completely disseminated.  The 743rd Tanks Battalion’s S-3 Journal report for Co. C stated the company actually landed on Dog White and Easy Green.  That seems to be an error.  Those beach sectors were not adjacent, being separated by Dog Red, which would mean there was a 500 yard gap in the formation.  Neither Rockwell nor his OICs hint at this break in formation, so perhaps whoever authored the entry for D-Day was working off an uncorrected Omaha Assault Area chart.  As we continue to uncover more inconsistencies and errors in Rockwell’s reports, I can’t rule out such a gap, but I think it most likely the company landed spread across the adjoining Dog White and Dog Red sectors. Or, less likely, they were farther off course, landing on the adjoining Dog Red and Easy Green.  They were in good company, as almost every craft in the first four waves had been swept to the east by the current.

The OICs of this section described the landings as follows:

 Ensign Earl J. Dinsmore (OIC of LCT-589, #4 in line) reported that his craft touched ground at 0630 a short distance east of Hamel-au-Pretre.  That would place him somewhere near the middle of Dog White or a bit farther to the east.  As he was the right flank LCT of Rockwell’s section (i.e., the other three LCTs stretched out to the east), this would confirm the company landed astride the Dog White/Dog Red boundary.

Dinsmore’s landing almost came to grief as a result of the actions of the embarked tankers.  According to his report, the tankers stripped off the gear needed for swimming and tossed it overboard, believing it was not needed.  He didn’t specify how much was stripped off (or how much could have been, under the circumstances), but the rash action would jeopardize the tanks’ survival if they landed in water as deep as had LCTs-586 and -587, both of which needed their tanks’ skirts inflated in the six-foot water.  But fortune was smiling on these tankers, for the moment.  Dinsmore recorded:

“The tide had just begun to rise and immediately our tanks were off the deck.  They were in about 3 feet of water and about 15 yards from the first row of obstacles.”

In Dinsmore’s case, his LCT didn’t attract enemy fire until they were turning away from the beach.

Lieutenant (junior grade) Albert M. Demao (OIC of LCT-587, #3 in line) reported landing under heavy fire, but with more complications. 

“2. The first two DD tanks were launched in about 6 feet of water on Dog White Beach at 0635.  Shrapnel was falling all over and one piece tore a hole approximately eight inches in diameter in the canvas on top of the front left corner of the third tank’s screen, resulting in deflation of several of her rubber pillars and possible slight injury to the one soldier standing on the tank.  He stated it would be impossible to launch the tanks, and LCT-537 retracted from the beach.

“3.  At 0643 the 587 beached again and launched the last two tanks in slightly shallower water without accident.  All four tanks touched bottom almost immediately after launching and waded ashore with no difficulty.” 

Demao’s wording indicates, again, the tanks needed to swim a short distance.

The only tanker from Co. C reported wounded while abord an LCT was Sergeant Gerald M. Bolt.  He was climbing into the turret of his tank shortly before landing when a shell shattered his left leg.  He refused evacuation and had his gunner lash his wounded leg to the recoil guard of the tank’s 75mm gun so that he could remain standing in the commander’s hatch.  He fought his tank for six hours before he sought medical aid.[26]

Ensign Joseph M. Carey (OIC of LCT-586, #2 in line) unloaded his tanks while under heavy fire.  He recorded:

“The army unit went off in about six feet of water with their sides inflated and cleared the ship without damage.”  And later in the report, “When I left the beach, the tanks were in a group and half under water and were firing.”

Ensign Albert J. Pellegrini (OIC of LCT-535, #1 in line) merely recorded:

“Putting ashore all 4 tanks and personnel safely, the ramp was raised and the 535 retracted from the beach and started for the transport area to take on her second load.”

Although the four LCTs of this section encountered scattered shelling as far out as 5-6,000 yards, when they beached they faced less deadly concentrations than the other section Three of the four OICs reported receiving heavy fire from the enemy, but none reported damage to ship or crew, with just SGT Bolt of the tankers being wounded.  Only Pellegrini in LCT 535 failed to mention enemy fire while beaching; perhaps being the farthest LCT from the defenses of the D-1 draw paid off.

Thus, according to the reports of these four OICs, all 16 tanks of Co. C made it off the LCTs safely and in condition to fight.  But were those reports correct?  Under fire and anxious to pull out, were they reliable witnesses to events past the end of their ramps?  Judging by the S-3 Journal’s entry for Co. C, yes, they were.

“Company ‘C’ landed on Dog White and Easy Green [read Dog Red? -CRH] beaches at H-6.  Although water was unusually rough there were no losses on landing.  Upon approaching the beach we were met with fire from individual weapons, 155mm, 88mm, and machine gun fire.  One tank disabled.”

One additional tank was lost when the life raft on its rear deck caught fire, which spread to the engine compartment.  Four men and one officer were wounded and evacuated that day.  So, it seems all of Co. C’s tanks did get off in good order, touched sand almost immediately and entered the fight.

Or perhaps it wasn’t that simple.  Captain Rowe interviewed two Co. C tankers: Clyde E. Hogue and William L. Garland.  They paint a significantly different picture.  The following are excerpts from Hogue’s interview (age 65 at the time of interview on 25 February 1988):[27]

“HOGUE:  . . .  And just about that time there was a LCT pulled up beside us and it’s whole deck was loaded with rockets.  And they pulled up within, oh within 50 yards of us and fired all those rockets off.  And course, I had never seen nothing like that and I thought that was amazing.  And then very little, a little bit after that, why they dropped the ramp and luckily our LCT took us in closer.  They didn’t dump us clear out.

“ROWE:  Now, where did they dump you?

“HOGUE:  They dumped me, I didn’t have to swim too far before I touched down.  I would say, I wouldn’t doubt I was maybe, uh, oh, probably less than 1000 yards, when they run us off.  And after we, course before that I got hit.  And my tank commander was hit.  And he, he strapped himself to the turret and he stayed with us till a little bit after noon.

“ROWE:  Yeah.

“HOGUE:  SGT Bolt.

“ROWE:  Yes.  I got him being hit on the 6th of June.  Rather interestingly, I don’t have you.  Now, uh, you say you were hit?

“HOGUE:  Not then.

“ROWE:  Oh.

“HOGUE:  Not then, no.

“ROWE:  Oh, when were you hit?

“HOGUE:  July the 8th.

“ROWE:   Okay, that’s why I don’t have it.  Okay, we’ll get that later.  Alright, you come in.  You drop the bow ramp.

“HOGUE:  They dropped the ramp.  The first tank - -

“ROWE:  The first tank went off.

“HOGUE:  And what happened to it I don’t know.  I never seen it again.

The detail of SGT Bolt’s wounding ties this to Lt.(jg) Demao’s LCT-587, which, Demao reported, landed its tanks in “about six feet of water.”  That is quite a discrepancy between the two accounts. 

The rocket-equipped LCT (known as LCT(R)) detail should help with the distance issue.  According to CAPT L. S. Sabin, commanding the gunfire support task group (CTG 124.8), his LCT(R)s were supposed to “move in and delivery rocket fire when the leading wave was about 300 yards off shore.”[28]  If that unfolded as planned, the Hogue would have been launched inside 300 yards from the beach.  Alas, nothing was that well organized or smoothly functioning that morning.  CAPT Sabin had positioned himself 1,000-2,500 yards off Dog Red beach sector.  He observed “that the LCT(DD) were not in a wave formation and that there was a general mix-up of all craft.”[29]  Lacking a coherent wave to key on, we can only guess how far offshore Hogue’s craft was when the LCT(R) decided to fire.

Rowe’s second Co. C interview was with Garland, who served as the gunner for his tank, and believed he was the second tank to touch down on the beach that day.  His interview placed the launching even farther out (age 65 at the time of interview on 19 August 1988).[30]

ROWE:  Now when you started up the tanks did you know that you were going to be landed on the beach, or did you think you were going to swim in?

GARLAND:  They told us – well, we would have to swim in.  We uh, we got off the boats at 6,000 yards out, and floated in.

ROWE:  Oh.

GARLAND:  I don’t know whether you got that information or not.

ROWE:  I got that you were taken right into the beach.

GARLAND:  No.  We were not. We floated in.  We lost a few tanks - -

ROWE:  Well, yeah, you floated in, but uh, you only had about 1000 yards to float in.

GARLAND:  No, we had more than that.  You couldn’t see the beach.

ROWE:  You couldn’t.

GARLAND:  No.  You couldn’t see the beach.

ROWE:  You were in C-Company in the 743rd.

GARLAND:  C Company, yeah.  No, we could not see the beach.  We were out further than that.

ROWE:  Well, yeah, when you say you were out further than that when you were launched?

GARLAND: Yes, when we were launched.

ROWE: That is contrary to the information I have.

GARLAND:  Yeah, we were out further than that.

ROWE: You only lost 4 tanks in the landing going in.

GARLAND: Right, right.  Till we hit the beach.

ROWE: And uh, if you swam in, uh, you would have had more than that.

GARLAND:  Yeah.  Well, as I say now,  you’re talking to an 18 year old boy here that is, uh, in his first battle uh, you know.

ROWE: Oh, yes, I know what you mean. 

GARLAND: Everything looks larger than it is.

. . .

ROWE: Now, when you landed, tell me what happened.  What – where was the position of your tank in your LCT?

GARLAND: I was in the 2nd tank.  Uh, we had 1 tank here and we had them staggered, and I was over here.

ROWE: You were the second off.

GARLAND:  2nd one.

 . . .

ROWE: Okay.  The 1st tank goes off.  Tell me what the 2nd tank does.

GARLAND: Well, after the 1st tank cleared the ramp, the 2nd tank went off, and the 3rd and the 4th and the 5th and the 6th. 

ROWE:  Yeah.

GARLAND: Then we headed for shore.

ROWE: You said that you had longer than 1000 yards.

GARLAND: It was longer than 1000 yards, yeah.

ROWE: Okay.  Uh, what did you do when you got ashore.

GARLAND: Well, the first thing we did was to drop the canvas as soon as we got clear of the water.  As soon as treads in the sand, we dropped the canvas, and started firing, of course.

ROWE:  That’s one of the things that I have to worry about is that uh, you started swimming to the shore, and then coming up out onto the beach what you did.

GARLAND:  Yeah.  Well, as soon as we hit the sand, you could feel it.  When the treads hit the sand, why, the tank commander deflated the tubes on the canvas and we were in firing position.

Remarkably, these two accounts insist that, contrary to every contemporary official report and every subsequent popular account, at least some of the 743rd‘s tanks were launched to swim ashore from 1,000 yards or more.  This is significant.  It doesn’t affect the tactical outcome, as the bulk of the DD tanks of the 743rd made it ashore on D-Day, regardless.  Still, this revelation would completely alters the official judgements on Barry, Thornton, and Young.

But how much weight should we grant Hogue’s and Garland’s account?  They were clearly incorrect on some details, such as Garland’s statement that there were six tanks on his LCT or that the LCT was crewed by British sailors (not included in the quoted except).  Oral histories recorded decades after the fact are notorious historical minefields, and picking a path through them is difficult.  Should we grant them more credibility than the contemporary reports of the LCT OICs?  Were Hogue and Garland wrong?   Or were they right, meaning the four OICs may have sanitized the inconvenient details that did not fit Rockwell’s ‘party-line’ version of events?  The fact that Lattimer’s interview, too, has independent support suggests we should not simply dismiss the accounts of these senior citizens, either.

I generally favor official contemporary records over oral histories recorded decades later, and there are many reasons for this.  But in this case, I will reserve judgement for a very good reason.  In this case, a monkey wrench was thrown into the historical gears from a quite unexpected source, and it deserves serious consideration.

The Monkey Wrench with Rockwell’s Name on It 

Earlier in this article, while discussing the approach to beach, I quoted from the oral history Rockwell provided Stephen Ambrose.  By and large, the central details of that transcript were consistent with those of his official report.  And they should be.  Rockwell reviewed the transcript multiple times and provided corrections and clarifications.  He also provided additional print sources which featured his D-Day exploits.  The transcript was revised at least twice over two years for accuracy.  So, there is every reason to believe the oral history was as accurate as Rockwell could make it.

When I quoted from that transcript earlier in this article, I omitted two passages (as indicated by the ellipses).  It’s time to revisit that quote in its full format.  That quote is reproduced below with the omitted potion included and highlighted in red.   

“As noted earlier, the original plans were for our landing craft to proceed parallel to the beach at about 5,000 yards off turn right 90 degrees and proceed toward the beach to the launching point where these tanks would go off the end of our ramps and over the delicate launching gear one by one into the sea with their shrouds inflated and their twin screws propelling them to the beach.  But the sea was running very heavily, and after launching one or two tanks and having them become swamped with water and go down, I was in communication by low power tank radio (even though all communication was forbidden prior to H-hour, the decision to launch or not to launch into the sea was absolutely critical to the success of the Invasion.  We broke radio silence.  What the hell, by now the Germans were aware what was about to happen) with a Captain Elder, of the 743rd tank battalion.   We made the joint decision that it would be insane to launch any more tanks and the signal was given by tank radio to all craft to cease the launch.  The next signal to all our craft and to the tank commanders that we would proceed to the beach, which we did.  And when our landing craft drove up on the shore, the ramps were dropped and the tanks drove off, with their shrouds down, ready to provide coverage to the infantry units that were to come in behind them.”[31]

This was quite simply an astounding revelation.  In his 14 July report, Rockwell delivered a stinging rebuke to the decision makers in Assault Group O-1, essentially stating that only a fool would not have realized the seas were too rough to launch the DD tanks.  Yet 48 years later he disclosed that he, too, permitted his LCTs to launch some number of tanks—which sank in the ‘obviously too rough seas’, of course.

Rockwell’s oral history is precise (if not accurate) on all minor details, right down to the second he claimed he beached.  I find it odd that he could only vaguely number the lost DD tanks as “one or two.”  That’s the kind of imprecise language people tend to use when trying to minimize embarrassing details.[32]  This indicates to me the number of lost tanks was at least a bit higher than Rockwell admitted.

Essentially, Rockwell admitted here that he was guilty of almost every transgression that Barry was censured for.  All the commands to Rockwell’s OICs came through the Army radios, not through Navy communications, and we have no indication Rockwell gave any of those orders.  The best he could claim was that he and Elder were in complete accord.  Rockwell gave no indication he gave any order to launch the initial tanks that sank, just as Barry stood by as the tanks were automatically launched in O-1.  And there’s no indication that Rockwell acted to stop the initial launches before they left the ramp.  And as discussed previously, it is most likely that any communication that broke radio silence on the tank radios (to halt the initial launching) would have been initiated by Elder or Ehmke, not Rockwell. Indeed, since Rockwell had no role in launching the tanks, then he probably had no role in halting the process, and the call with Elder was probably just Elder explaining why he stopped the launching,

The only difference between the occurrences in O-1 and O-2 was that the man on the scene in O-2 was able to recognize the error of the launch decision and to reverse it; but again, this was most likely Elder.  The reason that did not—could not—happen in O-1 was because the LCT carrying Thornton had become lost and was not present at the launch line when the tanks rolled off the ramps.  And the proximate cause for that LCT becoming lost can be laid at Rockwell’s feet: he switched out the OIC of that craft less than three hours before the sortie.  While that decision may have been necessary, it was not timely and contributed to failure.  Rockwell had not paid close enough attention to the organizing of the other half of his command, and that, coupled with his other errors in planning, produced the cascading series of errors that doomed the DD tanks of the 741st Tank Battalion.  And, it now appears, his actions came close to doing the same for the 743rd.

Having said all of that, there are a couple of points to address.  The primary issue is, again, the timeline.  DD tanks were due to be launched at 0535 hours.  That would give the slow swimming tanks 45 minutes to reach the beach at 0620 (H-10).  And that means Elder’s ‘trial’ launches should have occurred close to 0535 hours as well (depending on whose watch we’re talking about).  Yet two OICs stated they received word not to launch at earlier times: 0500 hours (LCT-590), 0505 hours (LCT-591), which as we have already seen was very close to Rockwell’s time for the decision (0505 hours).  Yet those were the only two who provided times corroborating Rockwell’s claim.  Two OICs made no time reference for this decision (LCT-587 and LCT-713).  Three (LCT-535, LCT-586 and LCT-588) stated they were informed after they turned left at the 6,000 yard line or just prior to coming into line abreast.  And LCT-589 stated they had already turned into line breast at 0530 hours, “when we decided the sea was too rough for the launching pf the DD tanks.”  Given the imprecise and wide range of recorded times, the window does permit one or two tanks being launched, probably from one of the leading LCTs - where Hogue and Garland were.

So, how do we reconcile the conflicting reports, especially those of Rockwell himself?  And what in the world really did happen with the DD tanks of CPT Elder and Ehmke?  Should we believe Rockwell’s original version, as supported by some of his OICs?  Or should we believe Rockwell’s report from 50 years later, which was at least partially backed by some of his OICs and the memories of two of the men who rumbled down the ramps and into the sea that morning?  And what to make of the line in the Co. B entry for the S-3 Journal that the DD tanks were not landed.  Mistake?  Or accurate, at least in part?  And what of the LCT that drooped out of formation, got lost and arrived late?

At the outset of the previous installment, and this one as well, I cautioned I would expose the reader to the sleazy underbelly of historical research.  A swamp of contradictory statements from sources both contemporary and far more recent.  Authored by men who were, by turns, brutally honest, self-serving, old, and possibly confused.  As confounding as reconciling this is, it becomes virtually impossible due to the total absence of testimony from key Army voices who died during the landings or shortly thereafter. 

There is no clear truth here.  All you can do is evaluate sources and try to determine which are more likely to be somewhat less wrong.  Anyone who claims to have the ‘real story’ is fooling himself.  But amid this fetid swamp of mis-history, perhaps we have the explanation as to why popular histories have simply followed the official—but obviously flawed—versions forward by the younger Rockwell and RADM Hall.  As bad as those versions were, they at least offered a simple, clear (albeit wrong) tale to tell.  

For the moment I will keep my conclusion to myself, saving them for the next installment when we wrap up the saga of the DD tanks of Omaha Beach.  In the meantime, I encourage the readers, as an intellectual challenge, to take a stab at making sense of all of this . . . and leave your comments.   

 Acknowledgements.

While researching this Omaha Beach Series, I have come in contact with several excellent researchers, and as good researchers do, we shared our finds. In the case of this DD Tank series, I owe a tremendous debt to Patrick Ungashick whom I stumbled upon while we were both delving into the subject. Patrick had managed to dig up a trove of Lt. Dean Rockwell’s personal papers which Rockwell had provided to Steven Ambrose. Any serious study of the DD tanks question must include these Rockwell papers, and I would have been lost without them. My sincere gratitude to him. Patrick has a book coming out this June which uses WWII case studies as a teaching vehicle for management decision making. One of those case studies focuses on, of course, the DD tanks at Omaha Beach. Patrick and I take somewhat different approaches to our analyses, and our conclusions are somewhat different, but I wholeheartedly recommend his upcoming book: A Day for Leadership; Business Insights for Today’s Executives and Teams from the D-Day Battle, or one of his other fine books. Thanks, Patrick!

In addition, my thanks to Barry Hartman for the use of the photo of the knocked out DD tank on the Dog Green beach road. It was taken by his father, Tech/3 Burton Hartman who was a member of Detachment Q, 165th Signal Photo Company. Barry is in the early stages of putting together a documentary of his father’s WWII experiences. If you would like to help document history, consider donating to his GoFundMe account to help get it off the ground.

Endnotes:

[1] RADM Hall’s endorsement to Rockwell’s 14 July 1944 report credits only Rockwell and Ensign Pellegrini for the decision, omitting Elder completely.

[2] As discussed in the previous installment, the DD/LCTs has been organized anticipating a specific approach formation during the approach to the beach.  However, the operations orders for the two assault groups, which specified a different approach formation, were published late, and after the DD tanks had been embarked.  The new approach formation resulted in the division leaders being abord the wrong LCTs.

[3] Lt.(jg) J. E. Barry’s Action Report, dtd 24 July 1944, for the time of the command change.  It is held in the Robert Rowe papers at the U.S. Army Heritage and Education Center, Ridgeway Research Room, Carlisle Barracks, PA.  See also Ens R. J. McKee’s report, subj:  DD Tanks, Launching of, dtd 20 July 1944, for Rockwell’s role in ordering the change of OICs.  Also held at Carlisle.

[4] COM LCT(6)GR 35 (Lt.(jg) Dean L. Rockwell) memo, subj: Launching “DD” Tanks on D-day, Operation Neptune, dtd 14 July 1944.  NARA, RG 38. 

[5] CTG 124.4/COMTRANSDIV 3 (CAPT Bailey) order No. 4-44, dtd 27 May 1944.  NARA: RG 38, Box 318

[6] Rockwell, op cit.

[7] Dean Rockwell Oral History.  Transcribed 6 Dec 1990, Revised 2 Nov and 30 Nov 1992.  Eisenhower Center, the University of New Orleans.

[8] The Action Reports of all LCT OICs discussed in this article are held in the Robert Rowe Papers, at the U.S. Army Heritage and Education Center, Ridgeway Research Room, Carlisle Barracks, PA.

[9] Deputy Commander, Assault Force O-2 (CTG 124.4.3, CAPT Bailey) memo, subj:  Action Report – Operation Neptune, dtd 4 July 1944.  NARA, RG 38.

[10] Commander, Gunfire Support Craft (CTG 124.8, CAPT Sabin), Action Report – Operation Neptune, dtd 3 July 1944, pg 16.  CAPT Sabin reported Landing Craft, Gun (LCG(L)-449 and LCT(A)-2008 had also mistakenly headed toward Utah Beach.

[11] Folkestad, W., The View from the Turret: The 743rd Tank Battalion During World War II, Burd Street Press, Shippensburg, PA, pg. 7.  The Hansen interview is not further identified but appears to have been one of Rowe’s.

[12] United States Army; Robinson, Wayne; and Hamilton, Norman E., Move Out, Verify: The Combat Story of the 743rd Tank Battalion (1945). World War Regimental Histories. 66.  Pp 176, 177 and 180.

[13] Rockwell, Oral History, pp. 6-7.

[14] COM LCT(6)GR 35 (Lt.(jg) Rockwell) memo to Commander, ELEVENTH Amphibious Force.  Subj:  Results of Training, Tests and Tactical Operations of DD Tanks at Slapton Sands, Devon, England, during the period 15 March – 30 April 1944, dated 30 April 1944, para 8(b).  NARA, RG407, Entry 427d.

[15] Rockwell, D, letter to Stephen Ambrose, no subj, dtd 3 Aug 1998.  Eisenhower Center, University of New Orleans.

[16] Ambrose, Stephen, D-Day, June 6, 1944:  The Climactic Battle of World War II.  Touchstone, New York, pg 273.

[17] Lt.(jg) Bucklew’s report was quoted in detail in Commander, Task Group 124.4 (CAPT Bailey), Report and Comments on Lessons Learned in Operation Neptune, dtd 20 June 1944, pp. 7-9.  NARA, RG 38.

[18] USS Thomas Jefferson (Lt.(jg) Bruckner, Dispatching Officer aboard PC567) memo, subj:  Operation NEPTUNE – Report of, dtd 7 Jun 1944.  NARA, RG 38.

[19] Op cit.  CAPT Bailey’s comment is on pg. 10.  Lt.(jg) Bucklew also commented on PC567’s drift to the east on pg. 9. 

[20] 743rd Tank Battalion memo to Commander, 30th Infantry Division, subj: Action Against Enemy, Reports of/After Action Report, dtd 20 Jul 1944. Ike Skelton Combined Arms Research Library, Fort Leavenworth, KS.  https://cgsc.contentdm.oclc.org/digital/collection/p4013coll8/id/3810/

[21] Op Cit.  Folkestad, W., pp 6-7. 

[22] Transcript of Interview with Jerome T. Lattimer, CPL, dtd 5 Aug 1989.  Robert Rowe Papers, 1944-1991.  U.S. Army Heritage and Education Center, Ridgeway Research Room, Carlisle Barracks, PA.  Box 9.

[23] U.S. Army Center for Military History, Omaha Beachhead: 6 June-13 June 1944, Battery Press, Nashville, TN, 1984, pg. 42.

[24] Op Cit.  Folkestad, W., pg 4.  Folkestad said this was a Co. C tank, but I believe that was an error.  He did not cite a source for this anecdote, but quoted Rowe’s interview with Co. B’s Lattimer for the next paragraph of the narrative.  Clearly Lattimer was the source for this anecdote, as the details match.

[25] Op cit. CTG 124.4/COMTRANSDIV 3 (CAPT Bailey) order No. 4-44.

[26] Op cit. Move Out, Verify, Pg. 24.

[27] Transcript of Interview with Clyde E. Hogue, T/5, dtd 25 Feb 1988.  Robert Rowe Papers, 1944-1991.  U.S. Army Heritage and Education Center, Ridgeway Research Room, Carlisle Barracks, PA.  Box 9.

[28] Op cit, Sabin, pg. 16.

[29] Ibid. 

[30] Transcript of Interview with William L. Garland, PFC, dtd 19 Aug 1988.  Robert Rowe Papers, 1944-1991.  U.S. Army Heritage and Education Center, Ridgeway Research Room, Carlisle Barracks, PA.  Box 8.

[31] Op cit.  Rockwell’s Oral History, pp 6-7.

[32] See also LTC Skaggs vague reference to “most” of his adrift DD tankers surviving and being picked up by rescue craft.  Commander, 741st Tank Battalion, memo, subj: Comments and Criticisms of Operation “NEPTUNE, dtd, 1 July 1944.  Online at the Colonel Robert R. McCormick Research Center’ Digital Archives, First Division Museum at Cantigny.  Record Group 301-INF(16)-3.01: Lessons Learned  

The Duplex Drive Tanks of Omaha Beach, Part (d) The Debacle Off Easy Red and Fox Green

An M4A1 Sherman DD tank that sank in 90 feet of water off Omaha Beach on D-Day. It is on display at the Musee des Epaves Sous-Marines du Debarquement, Port-en-Bessin-Huppain, France [Copyright Normandybunkers.com- image used with permission.]

Author’s Note

The usual role of the historian is to peer through the smoke and confusion of battlefield and assemble a direct and simple narrative that even the casual reader can understand and enjoy.  But what if the essence of the matter is confusion?  What if the attempt to simplify, instead fundamentally changes or nullifies the reality?  That is the challenge with the next two installments of this series.  The various orders and plans were contradictory and inadequately coordinated.  The official reports of the action were penned in the aftermath of the debacle, when many of those involved were seeking to avoid blame or point the finger at others.  These accounts were often self-serving, usually contradictory, generally limited in details and scope and always to be viewed skeptically.  Instead of truth, we must wade through a morass of claims and counterclaims, few of which can be factually validated.  In such a case, simplification can only result in distortion shaped by one’s own biases.  I have, therefore, found it necessary to lay out all the information as we know it and examine each point in detail. It may confuse more than clarify, but the very essence of this matter is confusion, and careless clarification can only mislead.  Yes, this is the historian’s equivalent of making sausages, complete with ugly details.  It isn’t pretty, but it is necessary to portray the reality.  So, dear reader, don your butcher’s apron and face shield, it’s going to be messy.

Sortie and Sortie Again

It was early in the morning of 4 June 1944 when the great assemblage of shipping in Weymouth began to weigh anchor and set course for Normandy.  With every preparation made and all equipment and vehicles in the best possible order, the armada headed through the gap in the minefield at the entrance of the bay.  Convoys had been formed from these vessels, with departures staggered based on their speed and the order in which they were scheduled to arrive off the coast of France.  As the convoys passed beyond the narrow entrance channel, the vessels shook themselves out into formation, often jostling their way through other craft intent on the same business.  This was the bulk of the naval force for the Omaha Assault Area, and it would be joined by smaller convoys from other ports.  Four other armadas, each of similar size and composition were sailing from yet more ports, destined to the other four assault beaches.  

The long-awaited invasion was underway, inspiring both relief that the endless waiting and training was at last finished, and dread at what was to be encountered in the next few hours.  Regardless of human emotions, the coiled spring that was the Allied invasion force was being released.

But not for long. 

The 16 Landing Craft, Tanks (LCTs) carrying 64 Duplex Drive (DD) tanks sortied between a few hours before dawn, initially proceeding in a single-column formation through the narrow harbor entrance.  With a blackout in effect, radio silence imposed, and a pitch black night, confusion and collisions abounded.  Once clear, the 16 craft—at this stage under the direct command of Lieutenant (junior grade) (Lt.(jg)) Dean Rockwell­—would form into four columns, each of four LCTs.  Two columns were slated for the eastern half of Omaha Beach (part of Assault Group O-1), and the other two columns for the western half (in Assault Group O-2).  A full 24 hours were allotted for the trip to the Transport Area off Omaha Beach, and even that was cutting it close given the slow speed and poor seakeeping abilities of the heavily-loaded LCTs.  Contrary to the recommendations of Rockwell and Major (MAJ) William Duncan (the executive officer of the 743rd Tank Battalion and commandant of the DD tank school) that no other cargo be loaded on the DD/LCTs, several jeeps and trailers had been added to each one, increasing the weight and dangerously crowding the DD tanks with their delicate canvas skirts.[1]     

At 0640 hours, just about three hours into the voyage, the column received a message stating “Post Mike One.”[2]  It was the code ordering a 24 hour delay, made necessary by an unfavorable weather forecast.  With some difficulty (not all the elements received the message) the armada was turned around and proceeded back to Weymouth Bay, which again became a mass of confusion as a similar scene of jostling craft again took place, this time as berthing spots were reclaimed.  The 16 DD/LCTs managed to find mooring points in Portland Harbor, nestled inside a breakwater in Weymouth Bay.

The confusion was about to be greatly compounded.  A convoy destined for Utah Beach was unable to make it back to its original port farther west along the British coast, and it, too, tried to straggle into Weymouth Bay, finding anchorages where it could.  Many of these craft had to anchor just outside the entrance to Weymouth Bay, and others of this convoy were still milling about the entrance to the bay when the invasion was relaunched in the early hours of 5 June. 

Despite the chaos, Rockwell managed to find a bright side; the delay permitted urgent repairs.  Three of his 16 craft were already mechanical casualties.  Two had their landing gear (the ramps and ramp extensions) damaged by collisions and one needed a new engine.[3]  Navy maintenance teams and the LCT crews managed to make repairs in time for the next sortie.

Although Rockwell never mentioned this incident in his official report, or even his later oral history, it apparently was during this aborted sortie that he finally realized the flaw in how he’d organized the LCTs in the O-1 Assault Group.   Lt.(jg) Barry, in charge of the DD/LCTs of Assault Group O-1, had been slotted third in line of the second column, where he was in no position to lead his LCTs.  In a last-minute change, Rockwell ordered the Officers in Charge (OICs) of LCT-549 and LCT-537 to trade craft, thereby correctly placing Barry in the lead craft of his first column. 

This was very much a last-minute change.  Barry noted he took over LCT-549 on 5 June, and as it turned out, the DD/LCTs sortied for the second time between 0230 and 0300 hours on that same date.[4]  At most he had two hours to adjust to his new craft and crew, not to mention his new position in formation.  The positioning mix-up was due to a new approach formation specified in the Assault Group O-1 order, which was issued on 29 May, at least four days after the DD tanks had been embarked.  Apparently, Rockwell did not foresee the ramifications of that change and only realized the error during the aborted 4 June sortie.  It was not the kind of start to inspire confidence.   One can only imagine the confusion in the minds of Barry and his old and new crews (and the rest of his division for that matter) to see the command structure shuffled at this point.  Though not in itself a fatal move, it was the latest in a series of mistakes which plagued the DD/LCT operation.

When the second sortie got underway, the confusion was far greater, as this time the vessels of the refugee Utah Beach convoy added to the jam.  The Omaha and Utah convoys became thoroughly intermixed.  As Lieutenant Commander (LCDR) William Leide (commanding the 55 LCTs of Assault Group O-2) reported:

“As a result, the craft of the two forces became badly mixed up.  It took the better part of four hours to separate the craft of Forces “O” and “U”, and, as a result, the LCT convoy was never in its originally intended formation.  The weather did the rest.”[5]

In addition to the interference from the Utah convoys, the faster elements of the Omaha convoys passed through the slower formations in the narrow channels that had been cleared by minesweepers, or crowded them out of the channels.   Due to the short time between the start of the sortie and H-Hour, the minesweeping units were able to clear only relatively narrow passages, a strict constraint that was recognized early in planning, and now had to be endured.

Weather, as Leide noted, did indeed “do the rest.” With winds of 15 knots coming from the northwest and strong, changing currents, the LCTs had trouble keeping formation.  Never designed for especially good deep-water sailing, the LCTs were further hampered by their heavy loads.  Decks were often awash and the tank crews were either confined to their vehicles or sought shelter in the limited crew spaces of the bucking LCTs.  The tankers would not arrive off Omaha Beach in exactly peak condition and the LCT crews—especially their OICs—had little or no sleep in the preceding three days.

It is no wonder that Leide would report:[6]

“During the hours of darkness, the convoy became more scattered so that by dawn, instead of being eight miles in length and four across, it was twenty odd miles long and completely lacking column formation.”

Despite this grim state of affairs, Leide struck a positive note.

“However, the situation was far from hopeless.  The early waves were in position and the balance had sufficient time to arrive at the rendezvous area soon enough to proceed to the line of departure on schedule.”

Leide might be accused of taking a sunnier view of events than was strictly the case, but the fact is the Omaha Assault Force did arrive mostly in time and in condition to fight despite a host of obstacles.  If the conduct of the crossing was chaotic, it nevertheless seemed to work out . . . in most cases. 

The reports from the DD/LCT officers placed their arrival in the Transport Area—23,000 yards off Omaha Beach­—between 0300 and 0415 hours.  (This is an indication of how inconsistent time recordings could be for the same event, a factor that plagues reconstructing timelines.)  First light on 6 June was at 0516 hours which meant the LCTs had to grope their way through the massed shipping that was concentrating there.  The convoy of battleships and cruisers had overtaken the LCT convoy, so these ships were already in the fire support channels when the DD/LCTs arrived. 

Rockwell reported that at 0345 hours his 16 LCTs arrived at Point K, at the entrance to the western fire support channel.[7]  The fire support channels were a priority for minesweepers and were cleared by the time the DD/LCTs arrived.  It was at Point K that Rockwell’s immediate control over half the LCTs ended.  There Rockwell’s eight LCTs of O-2 would link up with the control craft that would lead them down the western fire support channel.  Barry’s division would also link up with his control craft at Point K, but then follow it east to Point KL, before proceeding down the channel marked BA-BG.

At least that’s what was supposed to happen. 

Weather on Not

Before following Barry’s division, we need to review the launch-or-land decision framework.  In some analyses of this debacle, it has been presented as if there was a planned, mandatory consultation to decide between two options.  That view conveniently leads to a conclusion which blames certain parties.  It is not, however, correct.

There are operations in which a deliberate weather decision is planned and is an integral part of the execution checklist.  We need look no further than SHEAF’s series of weather decision conferences in the days leading up to 6 June.  That process resulted in the delay of the first sortie, and later in the decision to launch the second sortie.

But not a single order mandated a formal weather decision for the DD tanks of Omaha Beach.  RADM Hall’s operation order BB-44 directed the DD tanks be launched at 6000 yards as the default option.[8]  It did envision the possibility of unsuitable seas, in which case the tanks were to be landed on the beach, but that order didn’t address who would make that decision, much less set a decision point.  The next lower level of planning was not much better.  The order for CTG 124.3 (Assault Group O-1)[9] also directed the tanks be launched at 6000 yards as the default action.  The possibility of conditions being too bad to launch was mentioned only once, in an annex dealing with an entirely different class of ships than LCTs, and the sentence stating such a decision would be made jointly by the senior Army and Navy officers was relegated to a footnote.  As the default action was to ‘launch as planned’, any conference between the Army and Navy would be by exception, if either of those men voiced a concern.  No weather decision was scheduled, and absent an objection that would cause those officers to confer, the operation would proceed as planned with the tanks being launched.  The problems with this reasonably sound policy were: first, it only covered half the DD/LCTs—those of Assault Group O-1; and second, it was subverted.

In a meeting prior to the sortie, Rockwell pressed the tank battalion commanders to agree that the launch-or-land decision be made solely by the senior Army officer, who would make the decision for all the DD tanks.  Neither tank battalion commander confirmed either this meeting or the outcome.  Rockwell claimed the tankers agreed to take responsibility for the decision, but they insisted the senior tank officer in each group make the decision for only his half of the beach (CPT Thornton for O-1 and CPT Elder for O-2).  As we’ll see, the events in the O-1 sector unfolded consistently with this new policy.  By making this a unilateral Army decision, it eliminated any need for the Army officer to consult with his Navy counterpart.  At most, he would only need to talk to his counterpart to inform him if the decision was to land.  Thus, the meeting resulted in nullifying an important provision of the Assault Group O-1 order, and there is no indication that this subterfuge was reported up the Navy chain of command.  This wasn’t so much a problem in Assault Group O-2 (covering the western half of the beach and the eight DD/LCTs Rockwell would lead in) as its order provided no guidance at all on how an inclement weather decision would be made.[10]

This is an important point.  In neither assault group did final agreement require a joint decision or conference; the operation either proceeded and launched as planned or the senior Army captain could, by exception, decide to be carried to the beach.  The senior Navy officer of each group could raise any concerns he might have, but the Army officer was not required even to consult with him.  In the absence of intervention, the tanks would be launched as planned.  Understanding this, the actions of Rockwell and Elder, and Barry and Thornton will take on new significance.

While attempting to put a spin on the DD debacle in his report, RADM Hall would claim that Rockwell and Elder followed the correct procedure by consulting before making a decision, and faulted CPT Thorton for making the decision to land without consulting Barry.[11]  This is simply not a valid criticism.  Not a single plan, order or set of instructions specified a consultation.  At best, such a consultation would only occur ‘by exception’, if one of the leaders felt the conditions were not acceptable. 

Hall’s stinging judgement was based on a lack of awareness of the provisions in his own orders and of those of his subordinates.

Barry and Thornton

When the DD/LCTs entered the Transport Area off Omaha Beach, they were still attempting to maintain their formation of four columns, each of four LCTs.  As they reached Point K, Rockwell’s two columns on the right of the formation dropped out to meet their guide craft.  Barry’s formation would continue to Point KL, which would be the entrance to the center swept channel.  Barry, temporarily in LCT-549, led the left of his two columns, with the tanks of CPT Young, Company C, aboard.  Young was in the third LCT of the column.  The right column was led by Ensign (Ens) Callister in LCT-599.  Embarked in his four craft were the DD tanks of CPT Thornton’s Company B.  Thornton, the senior Army captain, was aboard LCT-537 (which was Barry’s original craft) and it was the third LCT of that column.  Thus, the two key decision-makers were separated and not in contact due to the radio silence imperative.  At Point K, Callister was supposed to slow his column down and fall in behind Barry’s, making a single column of eight LCTs, further increasing the gap between Barry (#1 in the new column) and Thornton (#7 in the column).

At Point K, Barry was also supposed to meet both Landing Craft, Control (LCC) -20, a guide craft, and CAPT Imlay (the Deputy Assault Group Command for O-1).  Imlay was not there, but LCC-20 was, and it took the lead for Barry.  And this is where things began to go wrong.  According to Barry:

 “The columns became confused as I endeavored to follow the L.C.C. which at first cut through columns using too much speed and too tight turns to follow.” 

At the same time, another problem was developing.  In the dark and confusion of the Transport Area, Callister didn’t realize they had reached Point K and failed to fall in behind Barry’s column for some time before he realized his error. 

Mistakes usually breed more mistakes, and what happened next just made things worse.  In the confused state of the formation, LCT-537 mistakenly broke away from its proper place (#7 in Barry’s division) and followed Rockwell’s division down the wrong channel.  LCT-603, to the rear of LCT-537, dutifully followed its leader astray.[12]  As you may recall, LCT-537 was originally Barry’s craft, and he had been pulled out of it just a bit more than 24 hours earlier, to be replaced by Ens Robert McKee, formerly of LCT-549.  It has to be more than a coincidence that the fateful break in column took place with the craft that had the last-minute substitution of OIC.  Last-minute changes have a way of causing unintended consequences, consequences which often seem out of proportion to the size of the change.  And the change of OICs was a perfect example of this. 

As bad as two lost LCTs might be, the real problem was that CPT Thornton was aboard LCT-537, so when it went astray, it took CPT Thornton far out of position if a decision on landing became necessary.  Disaster was not yet inevitable, but the conditions favoring it were becoming daunting.

LCC-20 and Barry’s remaining six LCTs continued on roughly 6000 yards to Point KL.  There they met 12 Landing Craft, Support (Small) (LCS(S)).  Eight of the LCS(S)s would lead the DD tanks as they swam into shore and would provide last-minute suppressive fire with guns and rockets.  Also at Point KL were the LCT(A)s carrying in the wading tanks and tank dozers scheduled to land in Wave 2 (H-Hour), and they, too, would follow LCC-20. 

As the column turned down channel BA-BG, Ens Metcalf (LCT-601, #4 in column) reported they went to General Quarters, and the other craft likely did as well.  Tie-down chains were removed from the tanks, the canvas screens were inflated and then wetted down with the ship’s bilge pumps.  From Point KL, the column still had roughly 14,000 yards to travel before deploying on the 6,000 yard line.

[A note of clarification.  The actual Line of Departure for this beach was roughly 4,000 yards offshore.  The DD/LCTs, however, would deploy on line about 6,000 yards offshore.  Many of the reports from the Officer in Charge of the DD/LCTs incorrectly referred to the 6,000 yard line as the Line of Departure.]

CAPT Imlay, the Deputy Assault Group Commander (aboard his command ship, LCI(L)-87) had been having a difficult time finding the column.  He reported arriving at Point K, the rendezvous location, at 0230 hours, but, being early, could not find any of his craft there.  When the LCT convoy did arrive, Imlay still could not find either the DD/LCTs or LCT(A)s assigned to his group; they apparently sailed past him in the dark.  Assuming they had entered the Transport Area from a different direction, he proceeded to Point KL in hopes of finding them there.  They weren’t at Point KL, either.  No doubt fighting down a sense of panic that the critical first two waves were lost, he headed down the BA-BG channel in the hopes they were ahead of him.  Fortunately, they were.  He found them a bit more than 6000 yards offshore (shortly before they were due to turn left out of the channel).[13]  Ensign Starky in LCT-602 (#2 in column) observed LCI(L)-87 approach Barry’s craft at 0430 hours, presumably to pass final instructions.

This operations overlay was included in RADM Hall’s order for CTF 124. It shows the organization of the sea off of Omaha Beach. I’ve added colored graphics to illustrate the separate movement of Rockwell’s division (blue) and Barry’s division (green) as well as the path of Barry’s two ‘lost’ LCTs (dashed green) that carried CPT Thornton. I also add notes to show the Line of Departure and the approximate location of the 6,000 yard line.

And thus, another opportunity to avert disaster was lost.  As a Coast Guard captain, Imlay had ample seagoing experience to judge the sea conditions.  As Deputy Assault Group Commander, he had the authority and obligation to intervene if the conditions for launching were unsuitable; it was his job to control the movements and operations of the craft in his boat lanes.  Further, he was within a couple hundred yards of the DD tank launch line, so he had firsthand knowledge of the wind and sea conditions.  In virtually all respects, he was the right man, in the right position to intervene (assuming he judged the conditions were unacceptable).  But the various orders had cut him out of the decision-making process, and he apparently lacked the awareness or initiative to realize his intervention was called for.  Or . . . he saw the conditions as acceptable.  Regardless, he apparently said nothing.  Neither Barry’s nor Imlay’s report noted that the launch-or-land question was raised during their brief communications.  In fact, neither of their reports mention this meeting at all, much less any exchange of messages.

Out of Sector

At this point we’ll pause to catch up with the two lost DD/LCTs, which had followed Rockwell’s column down the western fire support channel.  McKee eventually realized his error, though reports differ on circumstances and time of that realization.  This is where timing becomes relevant, which is unfortunate as the various timepieces do not appear to have been well synchronized.  

- 0505 hours, in Group O-2.  Rockwell stated he and CPT Elder conferred and decided not to launch the tanks, the sea being too rough.

- 0505 hours (also), in Group O-1.  Ensign Sullivan (OIC of LCT-600, #6 in Barry’s column) reported that Army 2LT O’Shaughnessy received orders via the tank radios to launch the tanks “as previously planned.”  This means CPT Thornton, far out of position over in the Group O-2 area, had conferred with CPT Young.  

- Navy Lt Bucklew, leader of the LCS(S) group in O-2, reported that “just prior to the arrival at the 6,000 yard line”, word was passed not to launch the tanks.  He then reported he passed that word to the two lost LCTs of Group O-1 and directed them to rejoin their proper formation.[14] 

- 0515 hours, in Group O-2.  Rockwell reported reaching the 6,000 yard line.[15]

If these times can be relied on – which is not guaranteed – it would seem to indicate that the launch-or-land decision was made almost simultaneously in both assault groups.

But how do we explain Bucklew’s claims?  Was he truthful when he said he told the two lost LCTs to inform the “other group of decision not to launch DD tanks”?  Neither Ens McKee (in LCT-537 with CPT Thornton) nor Lt.(jg) Scrivner (in LCT-603) reported any contact with Bucklew or his LCS(S).  Was Bucklew’s claim one of those ‘I tried to warn them’ stories that always pop up after a debacle, often being either exaggerations of actual comments, or simple fabrications?  That is possible.  Or did the wayward LCT OICs leave out of their reports the embarrassing fact that they hadn’t realized their mistake until it was pointed out by another command?  That, too, is possible.  Scrivner completely omitted being lost in his report and McKee claimed he had set course back to his own area (apparently having realized his error himself) at about 0435 hours after reaching the 6000 yard line in the O-2 area.  But McKee’s time for this was 40 minutes earlier than Rockwell—whom McKee was following—reported he reached that point.

It is necessary to raise another possibility, however unlikely.  The time Rockwell reported that the ‘do not launch’ decision was made for O-2 (0505 hours) is the same time Sullivan reported they received the ‘do launch’ order for O-1.  Given the variations among chronometers, could it be that these events were actually sequential and related events?  In other words, could it be possible that Bucklew conveyed the Rockwell/Elder ‘do not launch’ instructions as he claimed, and that Mckee or Scrivner misheard it as ‘do launch’?  Bucklew didn’t mention whether the message was passed by signal flags, signal lamp or loud hailer, but in any case, between the early dawn light and gusty winds, it would be easy to miss a rapid flag gesture, a brief flash of the signal lamp’s shutters, or a spoken syllable, thereby changing the intent of the message entirely.  While admitting this possibility, it remains nothing more than that.  Neither McKee nor Scrivner mentioned receiving a message from Bucklew, in which case they would have had nothing to misinterpret.

Finally, we must question the intent of this mystery message.  Bucklew’s report was generally clear and exact, however that one sentence on the ‘do not launch’ decision is open to interpretation.  Was Bucklew merely passing the information that Group O-2 had elected not to launch?  Or was he passing on an order from Rockwell that Group O-1 also should not launch.  Either interpretation is plausible.  Although Rockwell was not supposed to have any role in that decision for O-1 (both per the CTG 124.3 operations order and the agreement he brokered in the undocumented meeting), his attitude towards all of ‘his’ LCTs would make that ‘interference’ entirely plausible.  But, since Rockwell made no mention of passing that word to Barry’s division—as he surely would have if it happened— we must write off Bucklew’s message as informational, not directive (assuming he delivered such a message at all).

Back in Channel BA-BG

At some point while proceeding down channel BA-BG, CPT Young (in Barry’s column) was in contact with CPT Thornton (out of sector with Rockwell’s division).  We don’t have a firsthand record of their conversation, but we have a sketchy secondhand account.  Ralph Woodward, then a private first class (PFC), was the assistant driver/bow machine gunner of CPT Young’s tank (which was embarked in MacKnight’s LCT-598).  On 17 July 1987, he was interviewed by CAPT Robert Rowe (USN, Ret).  As with most interviews conducted four decades after the event, Woodward was vague on many points and incorrect on others.  And, of course, as a PFC, his perspective on large matters was limited and sometimes a bit distorted.  But he was able to talk about the decision to launch. 

According to Woodward, the waves were 5-6 feet high, and choppy, not smooth.  He believed CPT Young knew the tanks could not make it in those conditions, so he called back to get permission to be taken to the beach.  Woodward, from his limited perspective, thought Young called all the way back to England, but he must have actually contacted CPT Thornton.  The interview was a bit disjointed, but he gave this version of the decision:

“Our Captain couldn’t get permission to take us in.  He called back and couldn’t get permission.   They said no way, it will screw up the whole launching, screw up the whole invasion fleet.  Said you’d have to launch and get turned around and get the hell out of the LCTs.”[16]

So, Woodward seems to verify that Young and Thornton talked.  It was clearly impossible for Young to reach England with his tank radio, and the battalion had no one in a position of authority there to make that decision.  Thornton was the only logical man to be on the other end of that conversation.  As for the rationale for not landing on the beach, it’s difficult to know whether Woodward provided a reliable account.  I will say, however, that it does tend to support a point which will be discussed later in this installment.

As a result of this discussion between Young and Thornton, we know that 2LT O’Shaughnessy (aboard Sullivan’s LCT-600) received the call over his radio that they would launch as planned.  This was recorded as 0505 hours and presumably came over Thornton’s company radio net.  It’s safe to assume Young passed the word to his platoon leaders on the other LCTs over his own company net.  Sullivan was the only other LCT OIC who mentioned getting that word from his Army counterpart.  Two OICs (Barry and Metcalf) stated they received no word from their embarked tankers, while the remainder of the OICs did not address the point.  Whether the tankers mistakenly assumed the message was also being passed by the ships’ radio, or the tankers were too tightly focused on the pre-launch tasks and the ordeal ahead, this was another disconnect in coordination.

At approximately 6,000 yards from the beach, LCC-20 turned left on a course parallel to the beach, and Barry’s truncated division executed a column left behind it.  This took place at 0512 hours, per Ens Metcalf (LCT-601, #4 in column), with Ens Sullivan (LCT-600, #6 in column) reporting the same at 0510 hours (typical of the varying time reports). 

AT 0522 hours, Ens Callister (LCT-599, #5 in column) reported his crew secured from General Quarters and went to Beaching Stations.

The next maneuver is rather confused, as the various OICs gave different versions.  In some reports, the LCTs reached positions off their correct beaches, turned right towards the beach and launched their tanks.  In other version, they reached their correct positions and were ordered to turn right and proceed toward the beach for another 1000 yards where they were to launch their tanks.  Regardless, there was general agreement that the LCTs were at 5,000-5,500 yards when launched.

Barry later reported to Rockwell:

“It was obvious even before launching that the sea at that distance was too choppy for the tanks.”

And yet, never once did Barry attempt to contact Young (the senior Army officer present in Thorton’s absence) to raise his concerns.  Why not?  His explanation was:

“The senior army [sic] officer was the person to decide on launching or not.  That was established at the briefing.”

So, even though the operation order for Assault Group O-1 stated it was to be a joint decision, Barry’s report indicates his interpretation of the agreement from the undocumented meeting, was that the decision to launch or not was solely the  Army’s.  Was this comment by Barry simply a ploy to excuse his inaction leading up to the launching?  Probably not, as his comment closely paralleled Rocklwell’s own description of the agreed upon procedure.

At this point, the LCS(S)s took position, one inshore of each LCT, ready to lead the DD tanks as they swam to the beach.  What happened next sealed the fate of two companies of DD tanks.  LCC-20, which had led the column into position, now turned about and sailed back down the column.  As Ens Starkey (LCT-602, #2 in column) reported it:

“The LCT 602 stopped also and the LCC approached quite close.  With a loud hailer it said, ‘You are 5,500 yards from the beach.  It’s up to you DDs now.’”

Since LCC-20 had just come from the direction of Barry’s craft, the message would appear as an order from Barry, an appropriate way to pass the message as radio silence was still in effect.  To Ens MacKnight (LCT-598, #3 in column, with Captain Young aboard) it was even less ambiguous:

“A control vessel (LCC) came down the column, and instructed us, with the loud hailer, to launch our tanks at 5,500 yards.”

Ensign Metcalf (LCT-601 (#4 in column) reported much the same:

“5. 0529 [hours], LCC 20 came alongside giving order through loud hailer – ‘Proceed to 5,500 yards and launch DD’s.’  I do not know who originated the order or if the lieutenant in charge of tanks was in radio contact with his company commander at the time.”

Barry made no mention of LCC-20 turning about, passing by him or any possible communications between the two, but it is almost impossible to believe that LCC-20 would pass that order to three of the four LCTs in the section but not pass it to the first craft in the section, especially since that one craft carried the column leader.

LCC-20 only passed this message to the LCTs of the first section because its station was off Fox Green beach, the destination for that section’s DD tanks.  Ensign Callister’s section was off Easy Red beach and orders called for a separation of several hundred yards between the two sections.  Callister judged his position 500 yards to the west of the lead section at this time, an estimate matching Metcalf’s from the other side of the gap.  As a result, neither Callister nor Sullivan (LCT-600, #6 in column) reported contact with an LCC before launching; instead, they simply arrived at their position and began to launch.

If there were any doubts among the OICs of the first section, LCC-20’s instructions, apparently coming from Barry, would have erased those doubts.  The Army had decided to launch as planned, and the Navy (Barry) had apparently given the implementing order; with Army and Navy leaders seemingly of one mind, the launch was a go.  As a result, all six of the LCTs launched “as planned”, even Barry, who belatedly followed the actions of his subordinates.

But what of the two lost LCTs?

After realizing his mistake, Ens McKee (LCT-535) set a heading that would take him diagonally across the Dog Green, Dog White, Dog Red and Easy Green boat lanes, eventually reaching his proper area off the western half of Easy Red.  He would be far too late to make it into position by 0535 hours, the scheduled DD tank launch time.  Instead, he decided to continue inshore until he caught up with the swimming DD tanks, and then launch his tanks abreast of them, hoping his tanks would reach shore at about the same time as the others

McKee reported that at 0600 hours he had closed to 2,500 feet from the shore and directly in front of the intended landing spot for the tanks (presumably he meant ‘yards’, as no other report, by him or any of the other OICs used feet).  There were four or five DD tanks swimming “abreast of us and to our port”.  CPT Thornton indicated he wanted to be launched at that point, and so they were.  

Unfortunately, Lt.(jg) Scrivner in LCT-603, gave a very different version.  He completely omitted the detour with Rockwell’s group and instead reported he launched his tanks on schedule at 0535 hours, which is clearly impossible.  Such are the challenges with official reports.  He reported launching 1000 yards shoreward of the line of departure.  Assuming he was referring to the actual Line of Departure, that would place him 3,000 yards offshore, and close to McKee’s estimate of 2,500 (presumed) yards. 

I will not touch on the fates of these tanks individually, rather limit myself to a few general comments.  The nature of the launchings varied significantly.  Some LCTs saw their DD tanks sink immediately.  Others saw their DD tanks launch successfully, and, when last seen were proceeding to the beach without problem.  And still others reported a combination of the two.  As it played out, all but two that had been launched would sink before reaching the beach.

The only exception to this involved Ens Sullivan in LCT-600 (#6 and the last in the truncated column).  He reported:

“4.  At 0535 the first tank was successfully launched and started off for the correct beach, Easy Red on Omaha Beach approximately 4,000 yards away.  It proceeded through the water for about 100 yards and then sank from sight . . . 

“5.  As the first tank went off the lurch of it leaving the ship, or a lurch by the second tank as it started up, caused the latter to jump back tearing its canvas frame and those of the third and fourth tanks.  The exact cause of the lurch was difficult to determine, but it made the tanks unfit for any type of launching.”

Sullivan would take the three remaining tanks all the way to the beach.  He did not attempt to take credit for this decision—though clearly it was his—merely reporting modestly “It was decided . . .”  At 0615 hours, with an LCT(A) carrying wading tanks and tank dozers to either flank of it, his LCT was 3,000 yards offshore.  Then, at 0632 hours, his ramp dropped as the LCT grounded and the three DD tanks drove off.

They played a critical role in the success of the landings.  They arrived on Easy Red adjacent to where the two wading tanks and the tank dozer of Gap Assault Team 10 (GAT 10) landed, resulting in the most concentrated grouping of tanks on the 16th Regiment’s assault sector.  The engineers of GAT 10 had also landed there.  Aided by the support of the tanks and relatively light German defenses in the area, GAT 10 cleared a double gap and then a single gap, creating the best passage through the obstacles that morning.  All three of these DD tanks can be seen within 100 yards of each other on Easy Red in D-Day images taken at about 0830 hours that morning (two in Robert Capa’s photos and one in a film clip by U.S. Coast Guard Chief Photographer’s Mate David C. Ruley).

A photo of Easy Red Beach Sector showing two of the three DD Tanks from Ens Sullivan’s LCT-600, which were landed directly on the beach. The third tank is out of frame to the left. This Photo was taken by Life photographer Robert Capa at about 0830 hours.

The Decision To Launch

Was Thornton’s decision to ‘launch as planned’ reasonable?  Note that I did not say “correct.”  Empirically it was clearly wrong, with 27 of the 29 tanks that were launched subsequently sinking.  There can be no other answer to the question of “correct.”  But was it reasonable?

History is replete with reasonable decisions that turn out to be incorrect and even disastrous, as well as unreasonable decisions that somehow succeeded.  Wise commanders come to grief as often as fools seem to blunder on to victory.  So, what of Thorton’s decision?  Was it reasonable or irresponsibly rash?

Although Thornton was far out of position in the O-2 sector when he decided to launch as planned, he was well down the fire support channel, almost to the 6,000 yard line, at which the LCTs in both sectors were to turn left and deploy.  Recall 2LT O’Shaughnessy received the call conveying Thornton’s decision at 0505 hours, while Rockwell, who Thornton was following, hit the 6000 yard line at 0515 hours, just ten minutes later.  So, Thornton had as good observation as anyone else of the state of the sea and wind that far inshore.  And he decided to launch.  For the moment I will refrain from discussing Rockwell’s opinion on the weather at this point, and defer that discussion to the next installment, simply because his written report has been called into question by his own later oral history.

So, if Thorton from his position thought the weather was worth the risk, what did the others in O-1 think?  As you may recall from the previous installment, Rockwell claimed in his official report that:

“. . . the action reports of all officers-in-charge of “DD” LCTs in Force ‘O-1’ submitted to this command state that they were amazed when the order came to launch.  They were all ready to go to the beach and unload there.”[17]

Let’s fact-check this assertion.  These comments are taken directly from the very OIC reports Rockwell cited (and which he retained in his personal files for five decades).

1.       LCT-549, OIC Lt(j.g.) Barry:  “It was obvious even before launching that the sea at that distance was too choppy for the tanks.”

2.      LCT-602, OIC Ens Starkey: “The sea, which had been frothy and uncomfortably rough a few hours before had calmed to long swells.  There were no whitecaps and steering (at this time) was not difficult.”  [Note that Force 4 should produce “Small waves 1-4 ft. becoming longer, numerous whitecaps.”  In the absence of whitecaps, and with the wind no longer causing steering problems, Starkey seems to have described the conditions at or below the Force 3 upper limit for DD tanks.][18]

3.      LCT-598, OIC Ens MacKnight: “The sea I will say at this point was pretty rough, but the signal was given to drop the ramp.  At 0535 all the tanks were launched and were floating on the water, apparently underway on their own power.”

4.      LCT-601, OIC Ens Metcalf: “Sea appeared to be at least no. 4 with a strong breeze.  The tank corps men, however, appeared confident of their being able to make the beach.”

5.      LCT-599, OIC Ens Callister:  Sea conditions were not such that they merited mention in his report.

6.      LCT-600, OIC Ens Sullivan:  “We [Sullivan and Army 2LT O’Shaughnessy] both felt it was a little too rough to launch.  However, after working on the tank [which was having throttle trouble], he decided to try the launching.”

7.      LCT-537, OIC Ens McKee:  “The tanks were launched without difficulty in water which seemed to be considerably calmer than that encountered half an hour earlier.”

8.      LCT-603, OCI Lt(j.g.) Scrivner:  Sea conditions were not such that they merited mention in his report.

To recap, of the eight OICs, not a single one evidenced the amazement Rockwell cited.  He was obviously trying to sensationalize his report.  Four OICs (Barry, MacKnight, Metcalf and Sullivan) noted the sea was too rough, with descriptions ranging from obviously too choppy to ‘a little rough’.  On the other side of the ledger, two OICs (Starkey and McKee) noted the sea had calmed and mentioned no concern for launching.  Finally, the last two OICs (Callister and Scrivner) didn’t think the conditions were worth mentioning.

So only half of the OICs voiced concerns over the sea.  Rockwell’s credibility is best measured by the manner in which he misrepresented this 50-50 split when he reported to his superiors.  He was clearly lying to make Barry’s and Thornton’s actions seem more egregious, and to make his own decision look more astute by comparison.  The fact that he shortstopped these OIC reports and prevented senior officers (to include RADM Hall) from seeing them compromises his credibility, almost fatally so.

The net result of the reports of the OICs—naval officers, though of limited experience—is that their opinions were sharply divided over the suitability of the sea conditions.  Nor were they alone. The observations of other ships and craft in the vicinity were just as divided.  Most action reports did not attempt to quantify weather conditions, but the following chart shows the data that was reported.       

 As we saw with the DD/LCT officers, there was similar disagreement among the more experienced officers other vessels.  Of the three vessels operating closest to the beach, two (destroyers Frankford and Baldwin) reported acceptable conditions, and the third (PC-552) reported mixed conditions.  Only the reports from far out in the Transport Area, or west of Pointe et Raz de la Percee, indicate clearly unacceptable conditions.  With this in mind, we should not rush to condemn Thorton’s judgement of the conditions.  Those conditions, while far from ideal, were not so obviously unacceptable as popular history maintains.  If these naval officers could not render consistent reports of the conditions, I would hesitate to condemn an Army officer for his judgement of that same weather.  Thorton’s decision was well within the range of naval opinions, especially those from inshore vessels.

Little has been recorded of the opinions of the tankers on the weather, but what was reported reflected the same mixed views.  Metcalf (LCT-601, #4 in column), who had reported the sea to be “at least no. 4”, noted “The tank corps men, however, appeared confident of their being able to make the beach.”  Despite thinking the sea “a little too rough”, and despite manning a tank with a questionable throttle, 2LT O’Shaughnessy (in Sullivan’s LCT-601, #6 in column) thought it worth trying the launch.  And over in Barry’s LCT-549, Sergeant Sertell was commanding a tank with a skirt that had been holed when caught on the spare barrel cover for a 20mm gun.  Although advised the LCT could land him “at a later time”, and having watched the first three tanks sink right after launching, Sertell decided to launch anyway, hoping the bilge pump would keep him afloat.  His sank, too. 

It might be easy to write off these tanker’s dedication to launch as a misplaced gung-ho enthusiasm that overrode common sense.  But again, when considering that even some experienced naval officers thought the conditions were acceptable, I’d be reluctant to smear the judgements of the tankers who trusted their lives to those judgements.

On a tangential point, the OICs noted that ‘only’ roughly a third of the 29 DD tanks sank within view of their LCTs, and 20, when last seen, were proceeding to the beach without problem.  This is our first indication that the cause of the sinkings may be more complex than just the state of the wind and seas.   There are several factors possibly at play, but they are beyond the scope of this installment.  We will consider them in a subsequent installment.

Having made the case that CPT Thorton’s decision was reasonable (if not correct) it is time to present some other perspectives.  The 741st Tank Battalion’s 19 July After Action Report, signed by the battalion adjutant (who was not with the DDs that day), stated:

“At approximately H-60 on D-Day [0530 hours] the LCT bearing the DD tanks of companies B and C were in position of[f] Omaha Beach at a distance of approximately 6,000 yards from the beach.  Company B was commanded by Capt. JAMES G. THORNTON, JR.  Company C was commanded by Capt. CHARLES R. YOUNG.  Capt. Thornton was able to contact Capt. Young by radio and the two commanders discussed the advisability of launching the DD tanks, the sea being extremely rough, much rougher than the tanks had ever operated in during their preparatory training.  Both commanders agreed that the advantage to be gained by launching of the tanks justified the risk of launching the tanks in heavy sea[s].   Accordingly, orders were issued for the launching of the tanks at approximately H-50.”[19] 

That’s a fairly damning paragraph, clearly indicating Thornton and Young knew the seas were too rough, but launched anyway.  Now that report contained other information that was incorrect, and which could call its validity into doubt.  For instance, it stated Scrivener’s LCT had a damaged ramp, and that’s why the three DD tanks were landed.[20]  But I wouldn’t simply dismiss the report on those grounds.  In fact, it raises a critical question:  If Thornton and Young knew the seas were as bad as indicated, why would rational men decide to launch?  Two explanations come to mind: 1) they were not aware they had the option to land directly on the beach, at least not in an early wave; or 2) they had extremely poor judgement.  While the latter is not out of the question, it seems too simplistic.

The CTF 124 (RADM Hall) operation order No. BB-44 (20 May 1944) did clearly state that in the case of adverse sea state, the DD tanks should be landed with the first wave (at H-Hour).  But this naval order was of such scope—covering the entire Omaha Assault Force—that the Army’s 741st Tank Battalion would never have seen a copy of it.  Confirming this, that battalion issued its own operation order the very next day, 21 May 1944, and its total silence on the matter indicates they were clearly unaware of Hall’s backup instructions.

The naval order most relevant to the 741st Tank Battalion would be the operation order for CTG 124.3 (Assault Group O-1, covering the LCTs that were carrying Thornton’s and Young’s DD tanks).  But it wasn’t issued until eight days after the tank battalion’s order was issued.  Worse, Thornton and Young almost certainly would never have seen it.  After the tankers loaded their vehicles onto the LCTs at Torcross, the LCTs sailed to Portland Harbor on 25 May as part of the concentration of shipping.  The tankers, however, did not accompany the LCTs.  They were trucked to the D-14 assembly area, where they were locked down.  The CTG 124.3 operation order finally was issued on 29 May, just six days before the original sortie date.  The 741st Tank Battalion was not on the distribution list for that order, although the 16th Regimental Combat Team was.  It’s possible that one of the copies for the 16th RCT was delivered to the tankers in the assembly area, but we have no idea if it was, or when it might have reached them.  Even if it did reach them in time, it’s almost certain the tankers would have remained in the dark.  Where Hall’s order clearly addressed the backup plan in the main body of the order (under the specified tasks for the two assault groups), the CTG 124.3 plan did not.  In all but one instance where the DD/LCTs were mentioned in that order (in the Approach Schedules, for instance), it directed they launch at the 6,000 yard line, with no alternative specified.  It was only in paragraph 5 of Annex F, dealing with employment of the LCS(S)s, did the order mention that there was an option to land the DD tanks with “the first wave” in case the seas were too rough.  That paragraph, in an annex dealing with an entirely different class of craft than the LCTs the tankers would be aboard, was exactly the kind of obscure and hidden point Army readers would almost certainly miss.  Although the possibility of cancelling the launchings went back at least to 30 April, when Rockwell and Duncan submitted their training reports, that single comment in the LCS(S) annex was the only mention that the tanks would beach with the first wave if they had to be landed, and there was virtually no chance of the tankers finding it.   

The next opportunity the 741st Tank Battalion had to coordinate with the Navy would be after the tankers boarded the LCTs on 3 June, just hours before the planned sortie time of 0300 hours on 4 June.  During this period we know (from Woodward’s oral history) that CPT Young was taken ashore for a meeting , which presumably was the one attended by the battalion commanders and in which Rockwell disputed the decision process.  In the heat of that discussion, was the fallback landing schedule even mentioned?  Was it mentioned, but lost as background noise during the argument?  Or did Rockwell and his OICs, in possession of that order for several days, incorrectly assume the Army was already aware of that alternative, and failed to mention it?  And while LCDR Leide forcefully stated he warned the OICs to take the tanks directly to the beach if conditions were bad, he did not mention when they were to land, nor did he mention passing that time on to the Army (and given that the OICs of O-1 universally ignored it, did he even actually issue those orders?).[21]

If we assume Thorton and Young had even the minimal degree of judgement, a point admittedly not established, then the only reason compelling enough to risk their force in bad seas was if they thought the alternative was worse:  landing at a time too late to be of any use to the assault waves.  At this point, recall PFC Woodward’s interview.  The version he related of Young’s radio call indicated Thornton thought that landing the tanks would throw off the entire landing schedule, not just delay the tanks hitting the beach by a mere 10 minutes.  So, Woodward’s account tends to support the hypothesis that Thornton was not aware the landing option would place them shore as early as H-Hour. This hypothesis is also supported by the anecdote involving SGT Sertell’s tank. He was told by the LCT’s crew that if he could not launch, they had instructions to land them later in the day. If that comment was indicative of the LCT crews’ understanding of their backup plans, it would have been passed to Thornton as well. In that case, Thornton’s decision is much more understandable. If a decision to land instead of launch meant landing at some time later than H-Hour, then the assault infantry would have been left unsupported during the critical early hours, an eventuality made even more dire given the failure of the aerial bombardment. If that was the calculus running through Thornton’s mind, the risks involved in launching—cruel as they might be— may well have been acceptable in his mind.

In my mind, that dreadful alternative is the only context in which this comment from the battalion’s action report make sense:

“Both commanders agreed that the advantage to be gained by launching of the tanks justified the risk of launching the tanks in heavy sea[s].”

If Thornton was aware his alternative to launching was landing relatively safely and on time, there would be nothing to justify the risk of launching. I believe it is seldom a good practice simply to attribute questionable decision to unvarnished stupidity. Therefore, I suggest Thornton’s decision was influenced by a false understanding of the details of the landing alternative. Given: 1) the entirely dysfunctional nature of the parallel service planning processes, with little cross-coordination and too much compartmentalization between Assault Groups O-1 and O-2; 2) lack of synchronization of those plans, with the Navy plans coming far too late after the Army’s; and 3) that the tanks crews were sequestered in a marshalling area separate from their Navy counterparts, then I find it more than probable the result was that in Barry’s division the Army and Navy leaders were not on the same page at all.

On a different note, LCT Skaggs himself had signed an earlier report that cast the circumstances in yet another light.  In a 1 July memorandum titled: Comments and Criticisms of Operation “NEPTUNE”, he stated:

“1.a.(3) Naval small craft approached too close to DD craft that had been launched.  In one case an LCM hit a DD tank ripping the canvas, sinking the tank.  Other naval small craft kept weaving in and out of the DD formations adding their wakes to the heavy seas, which caused the DD tanks to ship more water than they would have normally.”[22]

That comment shifted the blame, or at least a portion of it, squarely onto the Navy, and it has been almost universally omitted from popular histories.  It might well be dismissed as a ploy to deflect blame from his command, but it also had the benefit of truth behind it.  The small craft he referred to were indeed scurrying about and they later contributed in that manner to the swamping of DUKWs (Army 2 ½ ton amphibious trucks) on D-Day.  Many of those small Navy craft had not been made available for the invasion until very late; so late that they missed all the rehearsals.  Nor had they worked with the DD/LCTs or the top secret DD tanks until the very day of the landings, and so were completely unaware of the fragile nature of the DD tanks.  The CTG 124.3 order did caution, “DUKWS and Rhino Ferries must be by-passed at reduced speed,” but failed to mention the DD tanks in that warning or elsewhere.  So, Skaggs’ 1 July memo is relevant for four reasons: 1) it provided a very plausible cause for the loss of some of the tanks, 2) it shifted at least part of the blame to the Navy; 3) it made no mention of poor judgement by Thornton or Young; and 4) it was signed by Skaggs himself rather than a staff officer.

Unfortunately, neither Thornton nor Young would survive the war, so their voices would never be heard, and in the absence of their side of the story, they would be condemned in absentia.  LTC Skaggs, in replying to a generic questionnaire by author Cornelius Ryan, replied that he had much to say about the events of that day and was eager to be interviewed. Unfortunately, there is no record of that ever taking place, so another key voice has been lost.

So, Thornton’s judgement remains very much an open question, and should not be condemned out of hand, as it has been by popular opinion.  The state of the sea depends very much on whose report you choose to believe and certainly was not a clear-cut matter.  An error by Rockwell had physically separated Thornton from Barry, a situation exacerbated when the substitute OIC Rockwell placed in Thornton’s LCT went astray on D-Day.  Rockwell’s insistence that the launch-or-land decision be strictly an Army responsibility, and his insistence on maintaining radio silence among the LCTs placed Thornton in an extremely difficult position.  And finally, there is no proof anyone in the 741st Tank Battalion knew the backup plan called for an H-Hour landing.  

Ultimately, Thorton can only be judged based on which of the conflicting reports one chooses to believe and how they are to be interpreted.  Those choices are necessarily highly subjective and will skew the conclusions accordingly, one way or the other.  That does not make for conclusions one can put much faith in.  I’ll leave it to the reader to form your own opinion, but offer one caution: the scope of confusion surrounding this question is so comprehensive that I wouldn’t become too entrenched in your conclusions.   

And what of Barry’s role?

Another salvaged DD tank. This one is an M4A4 Sherman DD tank that was recovered from the ocean after 27 years. It belonged to the 6th Canadian Armoured Regiment (First Hussars) and sank off Juno Beach. It is on display in the town of Courseulles-sur-Mer France [Copyright Normandybunkers.com- image used with permission.]

Barry in the Crosshairs

The degree to which Barry can be judged culpable—if at all—depends entirely on what happened during the undocumented meeting Rockwell had with the Army leaders.  Since we have no reliable information on that, any judgement ultimately comes down to, once again, who you believe.

As noted earlier, the operation order for Assault Group O-1 stated (in a footnote) that a decision to land due to unfavorable conditions would be a joint decision between the senior Army and Navy officers.  That would be Barry and Thornton.

During the undocumented meeting that took place on 3 June, shortly before the aborted initial sortie, Rockwell pressed for a single Army officer to make the decision for DD elements in both O-1 and O-2.  In a previous installment, I pointed out that Rockwell’s version of the meeting made no mention whether the Navy would have a role in that decision or who the Navy representative would be.  Since Rockwell did not address that point at all, I concluded that he was attempting to shift the entire decision onto Army shoulders, excusing the Navy of any role or responsibility.  Not coincidentally, that was the precise position Rockwell and Duncan had advocated in their 30 April letters. 

But that position was directly counter to LGT Bradley’s position on the matter, and it also subverted the provisions in the Assault Group O-1 order.

To repeat an earlier quote, in Barry’s report to Rockwell on 22 July 1944 he stated:

“4.  The senior army officer was the person to decide on launching or not.  That was decided at the meeting.”

If accurate, that statement meant Barry had been cut out of the decision process, and it was Rockwell himself who had initiated the change that cut him out.  That clearly shifted responsibility back to Rockwell for, once again, disrupting the command relationships in O-1.  As I have taken pains to point out earlier, Rockwell submitted his report (which cast Barry in a very poor light) before he even received Barry’s report.  Worse, Rockwell never submitted Barry’s report (or those of the other OICs) through channels to higher command levels. 

By either intent or oversight, Rockwell’s actions meant that RADM Hall remained unaware of Barry’s assertion that he had been cut out of the decision process by the very man who was both casting Barry as a villain and coloring himself as the hero of the day:  Rockwell.  Unaware of Rockwell’s disruption of the command relationships in the O-1 DD/LCT elements, Hall‘s endorsement scolded Barry:[23]

“Apparently Captain Thornton, U.S. Army, made the decision unilaterally to launch the DD tanks of Assault Group O-1 without consulting Lt(jg) Barry, USNR, the Senior Naval Officer on the LCT and the latter tacitly acquiesced in the decision by his failure to take action to change the order directing the launching.”

Hall’s belief that Thornton and Barry were in the same LCT inadvertently revealed how much he had been kept in the dark by Rockwell and Leide; he wasn’t aware how badly they would have been separated even if things had gone well, much less how much worse they were separated when the two LCTs got lost.  Beyond that, Hall believed Barry could unilaterally override Thornton, a point both the Assault Group O-1 order specifically ruled out, as well as Rockwell’s insistence that the Army had final word.  Hall was as out of touch with his subordinate’s orders as he was with the backroom agreements and juggling of command positions within the convoy, both of which were Rockwell’s handiwork.   

Barry’s chief complaint in his own report was not who made the decision, rather it was that his LCTs began launching the tanks without his orders.  This is a bit more complicated.  Nowhere in the various records is there any indication that there had been worked out any communications procedures between the Navy crews or the embarked Army tankers to cope with the radio silence orders.  Hall’s endorsement to Rockwell’s report blithely claimed that:

“NOTE:  The two unit commanders were to inform each other by radio of the decisions made.”

The fact of the matter is that nowhere is there any indication there was an exception to the radio silence directive for the DD elements; it isn’t present in any plan, order or separate instructions within Hall’s command.  RADM Kirk’s order (for the Western Naval Task Force) did make a provision for it, but Hall did not implement that provision in his Task Force 124 planning.  Even Rockwell would contradict Hall on the point, noting that he was not authorized to break radio silence when he contacted CPT Elder.[24] 

So, is it a valid criticism to fault Barry and Thornton for not devising a workable alternative means of communications?  Yes, but any alternative, such as signal flags or lamps had limitations when several craft in the column interposed between the sender and receiver, and they would have been completely ineffective with Thornton in the wrong fire support lane.

In light of the strict radio silence imposed by Hall and his subordinate commanders, Barry and his crews were relying on simplistic ‘follow me and do as I do’ procedures.  If Barry used signal flags or lights to control his formation at any point on D-Day, it was not mentioned by any of the OICs.  He certainly didn’t signal Callister that they had reached Point K.  And the only time Barry mentioned using a “visual signal” was a belated attempt to contact CPT Young after launching had begun.  It was wasted effort, and Barry should have known it.  Young had better things to do than look for visual signals from an LCT 400 yards away; he was in the process of launching and his attention was properly focused on that delicate task.  And even if the Navy crew in Young’s LCT copied the visual signal, relaying that message to a busy Young, isolated in his canvas bathtub, would have been fruitless.

We do not know whether Thornton and Young made an on-the-spot decision to break radio silence to confer on launching, or whether they had planned to do so in advance.  I suspect it was only the fact that Thornton was separated from the column that compelled him to use the radio, but who knows? 

The apparent failure to work out any procedure for communication between the Army and Navy elements was a mistake.  The entire operation seemed to be conducted on the premise that everything would proceed automatically.  Everything up to arrival at the launching sites was conducted on the basis of ‘follow me and do as I do.’  At the launching sites, the lead seems to have automatically switched to the Army commanders.  Both MacKnight (with Young on board) and McKee (with Thornton on board) dropped their ramps when the Army captains told them to, with no regard to a signal from Barry.  Interestingly, even Callister (LCT-599, #5 in column) and Sullivan (LCT-600, #6 in column) started launching automatically, though Thorton was still far distant, and LCC-20 had not passed the word to launch among the second section as it had with the first section. 

None of the reports from the OICs indicate they were expecting any order from Barry to execute the launch procedures.  They either launched on the Army captain’s command, launched automatically, launched in response to LCC-20’s message, or, in one case (Scrivner, LCT-603, #8 in column) launched “when ships on her port began launching as had been arranged.”  The latter is a classic example of ‘follow me and do as I do’.

The totality of evidence indicates no one expected to receive a command of execution from Barry for the launchings.  The various evolutions proceeded automatically up until the point when the Army captains gave the order to launch.

In this light, Barry’s protest, that he had heard nothing from the Army before the launchings began, rings hollow.  Should he have been notified?  Perhaps, but if so he and Thornton should have worked out some mutual communication protocol, which did not seem to have happened.  And it is important to note that Barry’s division executed the launchings in good order without his active involvement at this stage.  That almost never happens in combat unless planned.  So, Barry’s main concern, that he was surprised when the launchings took place, appears to be a result of poor coordination of interservice communications, for which both Barry and Thorton should carry the blame.  And yet, the communications problem traces back primarily to RADM Hall’s failure to delegate authority to break radio silence on DD tank matters, as RADM Kirk’s order had authorized.  This failure was mirrored by Rockwell’s insistence on radio silence for the DD/LCTs, which, ironically, he promptly disregarded for his own operation.

There is one other point to ponder with Barry.   Was he remiss in not objecting because of the weather?  Consider the conflicting orders he had received.

- Per the Assault Group O-1 order, a decision not to launch was supposed to be a joint decision between him and Thornton.  In accordance with those instructions, if he objected on the basis of weather, he should have raised the matter at some point well before the 0535 hours launch time was reached.

- According to Barry’s understanding of Rockwell’s agreement with the Army, he had no role in the decision, and any intervention would have been intrusion on the Army’s authority.

- And finally, Leide’s report went on at some length explaining how he had instructed the OICs that in case of bad weather, they were charged with taking the tanks to beach, regardless of Army input.

The sad fact is that Barry was in a position such that no matter what he did, he would have disobeyed the orders of one, if not two authorities.  There is no better example of the utter confusion in planning and leadership than this. 

Looking beyond those orders, we should consider the practical aspect.  Barry and Thornton (and Young) had been training together for most of the past two and a half months.  In that time Barry should have developed a close enough working relationship to feel free to raise his voice if he thought something was not right.  And in his own report, he clearly thought the weather was too bad to launch.  Morally, he should have contacted Thornton (or Young since Thornton was aboard one of the lost LCTs) and voiced his concerns.  It may very well have resulted in a better decision.  If Barry is to be faulted, it is for this: for not taking the initiative to voice his concerns, whether he had the authority or not.  He certainly could have at least attempted to make contact, and in that case should have made the attempt long before he witnessed tanks rolling off his LCTs.  Of course, this opinion is then caught up in the circular problem of communications.  Let us not forget that if Barry is to be faulted for this failure to speak up, so too must CAPT Imlay, who was near the 6,000 yard line when the decision was made.  He escaped censure; the junior officer did not.  It is this selective censure by RADM Hall and others that calls their judgements into question more than Barry’s.

Ultimately, Barry’s and Thornton’s actions were merely the final steps in a debacle that had many fathers and had been gestating for months.  True, their actions were the last opportunity to avoid the subsequent debacle, but to solely focus blame on them while ignoring the culpability of so many above them is an injustice.

Most importantly, this analysis illustrates the folly of leaving such a decision to a very junior Army officer or an even more junior Navy officer.  The decision should have been left to someone far more senior; whether that was CAPT Imlay or RADM Hall is a discussion best left to another time.  For now, it is only necessary to recall the wisdom of LTG Bradley who objected in writing to what he saw developing in RADM Hall’s command.

Acknowledgements.

While researching this Omaha Beach Series, I have come in contact with several excellent researchers, and as good researchers do, we shared our finds. In the case of this DD Tank series, I owe a tremendous debt to Patrick Ungashick whom I stumbled upon while we were both delving into the subject. Patrick had managed to dig up a trove of Lt. Dean Rockwell’s personal papers which Rockwell had provided to Steven Ambrose. Any serious study of the DD tanks question must include these Rockwell papers, and I would have been lost without them. My sincere gratitude to him. Patrick has a book coming out this June which uses WWII case studies as a teaching vehicle for management decision making. One of those case studies focuses on, of course, the DD tanks at Omaha Beach. Patrick and I take somewhat different approaches to our analyses, and our conclusions are somewhat different, but I wholeheartedly recommend his upcoming book: A Day for Leadership; Business Insights for Today’s Executives and Teams from the D-Day Battle, or one of his other fine books. Thanks, Patrick!

[1] Rockwell, Dean, Lt(j.g.).  DD LCT Unit Commander  letter to  Commander, ELEVENTH Amphibious Force.  Subj:  Results of Training, Tests and Tactical Operations of DD Tanks at Slapton Sands, Devon, England, during the period 15 March – 30 April 1944, dated 30 April 1944, para 8(b).  RG407, Entry 427d, NARA. 

Duncan, William, MAJ.  School Commandant, Letter to Commander ELEVENTH Amphibious Force, Subj:  DD LCT Operations, Evaluation and Results of, dtd 30 April 1944, para 3(e). RG407, Entry 427d, NARA.

[2] Leide, William, LCDR.  Commander, LCT-6 Flotillas 12 and 26 letter to Commander in Chief, United Sates Fleet, Subj: Action Report, LCT “O-2”, dated 29 June 1944.

[3] Transcript of Rockwell’s oral history he recorded for Steven Ambrose, pg.5.  On file with the National WWII Museum.

[4] LCT-589 – 0230 hours; LCT-535 – 0300 hours.  The reports of the DD/LCT OICs, to include Barry’s, which are cited throughout  this installment, are held by the U.S. Army Heritage and Education Center, Carlilse Barracks, PA.  See the Robert Rowe Papers, Series 2, Box 11.

[5] Leide, Action Report, LCT “O-2”, dated 29 June 1944.

[6] Leide, Action Report, LCT “O-2”, dated 29 June 1944.

[7] Rockwell, Dean, Lt(j.g.).  Commander, Group 35 letter to Commander in Chief, United States Fleet, subj:  Launching “DD” Tanks on D-Day, NEPTUNE Operation, dtd 14 July 1944.   Note: as with many documents on file from that operation, the word NEPTUNRE has been redacted and replaced with a handwritten (N, France).

[8] CTF 124/Eleventh Amphibious Force operation order No. BB-44, dtd 20 May 1944.  NARA: RG 38, Box 197.

[9] CTG 124.3/COMTRANS Div 1 Order No. 3-44, dtd 29 May 1944.  NARA: RG 38, Box 318

[10] CTG 124.4/COMTRANSDIV 3 order No. 4-44, dtd 27 May 1944.  NARA: RG 38, Box 318

[11] RAMD Hall’s Second Endorsement, dtd 22 September 1944, to Rockwell’s memo, subj: Launching  “DD” Tanks On D-Day, Operation NEPTUNE, dtd 14 June 1944.

[12] Barry blamed this break in column on the erratic maneuvers of LCC-20.

[13] Imlay, Miles, CAPT.  Deputy Commander Task Group 124.3 letter to Commander Task Force 124, subj:  Report on Operation NEPTUNE, dtd 1 July 1944.  NARA, RG 38.

[14] Bucklew’s comments as the LCS commander, though not attributed to him by name, are included in Commander Task Group 124.3 letter to Commander Task Force 124, subj: Report and Comments and Lessons Learned in Operation NEPTUNE, dtd 20 May 1944.  See Section IX, page 7 and following.  NARA, RG 38.

[15] Rockwell, Launching “DD” Tanks on D-Day, NEPTUNE Operation, dtd 14 July 1944.

[16] Woodward, Ralph.  Oral interview conducted by CAPT Robert Rowe (USN, Ret) on 17 July 1987.  U.S. Army Heritage and Education Center, Carlilse Barracks, PA; Robert Rowe Papers, Series 2, Box 8.

[17] Rockwell. Launching “DD” Tanks on D-Day, NEPTUNE Operation, dtd 14 July 1944.

[18] Regretting his judgement that day, Starkey concluded his report with: “Needless to say, I am not proud of the fact nor will I ever stop regretting that I did not take the tanks all the way to the beach.”

[19] Commander, 741st Tank Battalion letter to The Adjutant General, Washington, D.C., subj: Action Against Enemy/After Action Report, dtd 19 July 1944.  Ike Skelton Combined Arms Research Library digital collections, Fort Leavenworth, KS. https://cgsc.contentdm.oclc.org/digital/collection/p4013coll8/id/3512/  See pg. 100 of the .pdf file.

[20] This was also author Cornelius Ryan’s explanation in his book The Longest Day.  Even that excellent author and historian had been unable to obtain the reports of the OICs which Rockwell had kept from the public record during and after the war.

[21] This assertion was contained in Leide’s 20 July 1944 first endorsement to Rockwell’s Launching “DD” Tanks on D-Day, NEPTUNE Operation, dtd 14 July 1944.

[22] Commander, 741st Tank Battalion, memo, subj: Comments and Criticisms of Operation “NEPTUNE, dtd, 1 July 1944.  Online at the Colonel Robert R. McCormick Research Center’ Digital Archives, First Division Museum at Cantigny.  Record Group 301-INF(16)-3.01: Lessons Learned

[23] RAMD Hall’s Second Endorsement, dtd 22 September 1944, to Rockwell’s memo, subj: Launching  “DD” Tanks On D-Day, Operation NEPTUNE, dtd 14 June 1944.

[24] Page 35 of his oral history cited earlier.

The Duplex Drive Tanks of Omaha Beach, Part (c) Embarkation Errors

British Duplex Drive Sherman Tanks with their screens inflated, embarked on a Landing Craft, Tank.

In the previous installment I detailed the vague and inadequate instructions contained in the various planning documents regarding the launching of the Duplex Drive (DD) tanks, as well as some of the after-the-fact claims participants made regarding verbal directives on the matter.  Hidden in the planning process, however, was another layer of errors which would also influence events on D-Day.  These errors resulted from the disconnects between certain preparations which had to be made early in the process, and the formal planning documents which were published later and contained details that partly nullified those preparations.  Although seemingly minor in some respects, at least one of these disconnects would have unexpected impacts on D-Day.

Tardy Task Organization

Previously I touched on the manner in which the DD/LCTs were ‘task organized’ to meet the requirements of the plan.  ‘Task organization’ is simply the manner in which units are grouped together to accomplish a mission, with elements added or removed as the nature of the mission dictates.  In the American sectors there eventually would be three task organized DD/LCT divisions.  Two of these divisions were slated for Omaha Beach, with Assault Groups O-1 (CTG 124.3) and O-2 (CTG 124.4) each having one division.  The third division was slated for Utah Beach.  Each division needed to carry two companies of DD tanks (32 tanks).  With an LCT limited to carrying four DD tanks, this established a requirement for eight LCTs in each division.  (The third and last tank company from each battalion was scheduled to land minutes later, but these tanks were equipped with deep wading kits and not DD kits.  Therefore, they are omitted from this discussion, but will be the focus of a separate blog.)

The normal organizational structure of an LCT division, however, included only six craft.  Hence the need to task-organize the LCT divisions by adding two LCTs to each division.  The Navy based its task organization on an existing division of LCTs for each battalion.  These divisions came from two groups within LCT Flotilla 12.  That flotilla was commanded by LCDR Leide, who we met in the previous installment.  Figure 1 illustrates the task organization for the entire DD/LCT effort.  Divisions 69 and 70 constituted Group 35, which was commanded by Lt.(jg) Rockwell.  Note that Rockwell’s two divisions were assigned to different beaches, and it isn’t clear why this was done. From a strictly span-of-control perspective, it would make more sense if they had both been allotted to Omaha Beach.  There may have been good reasons for this allocation, but from a perspective more than eight decades later, it simply seems to be one of the odd little quirks in the planning process. 

To the 18 LCTs from Divisions 69, 70 and 71, six more LCTs were allotted.  One of these also came from Flotilla 12.  The remaining five, however, came from three different flotillas, and no two of which were even from the same group.  Mixing in individual craft in this manner did nothing to help unit cohesion, but circumstances often demand this kind of assignment.  So, again, although there are a couple of points that appear odd from a perspective 80 years later, there is nothing fundamentally wrong with the task organization as depicted.  Under the pressures of NEPTUNE planning, this kind of task organization was not uncommon.

But there was a real problem hidden in Figure 1.  In the division allotted to Assault Group O-1, either Rockwell or Leide had placed an ‘outsider’ in charge.  Lt.(jg) J. E. Barry and his LCT-537 were normally assigned to Flotilla 19 but had been attached to the division allotted to Assault Group O-1 as one of the two additional craft.  Again, this kind of cross-attachment is not unusual.  What is unusual is the fact that Barry was placed in command of that division. 

Figure 1.  The final task organization for the DD/LCT units on D-Day.  Barry was originally located in LCT-537 as indicated by the flag, but was switched to LCT-539 at the last minute.  Note that various plans, orders and sources show different division, group and even flotilla numbers for these sets of craft.  For simplicity of reference, I have selected the version as shown.

By placing Barry in command, they necessarily subordinated the normal commander of Division 71 to him, which could pose a host of problems.  We have no idea why Rockwell or Leide made this decision.  Was it because of a perceived technical or leadership shortcoming in the Division 71 leader?  Or was it simply a rigorous adherence to the naval and military god of seniority? 

Ideally, the training and standard operating procedures were virtually identical among the LCT flotillas in the European Theater, so a mixing of craft and commanders should not be too harmful.  Ideally.  The reality was somewhat different.  By inserting an outsider into the chain of command between a division of LCTs from Flotilla 12 on one hand, and the leaders of Flotilla 12 on the other hand, they were simply asking for trouble.  At best, the outsider Barry would serve as an imperfect filter between the vision and orders of Leide and the LCTs Leide had trained.  It was nothing less than a self-inflicted weaking of the chain of command.  Leide had organized Flotilla 12 over that past half year, placing his stamp on it, and Rockwell had done the same with his Group 35.  It is only to be expected that both men would cast a critical eye on an outsider who was suddenly taking control of one of their babies:  Flotilla 12’s Division 71.

This awkwardness could have at least been mitigated by Leide or Rockwell.  They could have placed the leader of Divisions 71 (a Lt.(jg) Scrivner) in charge of the second section, leaving him the face-saving responsibility of leading four of his six LCTs.  They did not do this.  An ensign (ENS Donal K. MacKenzie) was placed in charge of the second section, and Scrivner was left to command only his own craft within Barry’s section of the division.  This was one of the oddest decisions within the DD/LCT project and it raises many questions.  But lacking information on why this decision was made, we are not in a position to judge whether it was wise or not.  And whatever personal friction may have resulted within Division 71, it does not appear to have played a negative role in the events of D-Day, as LCT-603 (Scrivner’s) would end up as the tail-end-Charlie of Barry’s eight LCTs and therefore was not in a position to affect anything.  On the other hand, using Scrivner in a more responsible role may have helped prevent the later errors.  There is no way of knowing. 

In theory, much of this should have been smoothed over in the weeks of training leading up to D-Day.   Major Duncan (executive officer of the 743rd Tank Battalion, and commandant of the DD tank training school) noted that training began on 15 March 1944.  But initially only four DD tanks were available, with the remaining tanks (more than a hundred) trickling in as they arrived by ship.  How much training the LCTs had gotten in is an open question, especially given the distractions of late arrivals, overhauls and shipyard modifications experienced by the LCTs.  By 1 April, two weeks after the planned start of the DD training school, only ten of the twenty-four LCTs were expected to have the ramp extension kits mounted (necessary for safely launching DD tanks), and by that same date, only a total of five DD tanks had been delivered to the three battalions undergoing training.[1]   So, there is some question how complete and comprehensive the training was by the time it ended on 30 April.  Nevertheless, figures Rockwell provided for training indicate that the average LCT had launched its load of four DD tanks 12 times,[2] although that number undoubtedly varied widely between individual craft.  In fact, one craft (LCT-600) wouldn’t even be available to start training until by May 6. 

More importantly, those figures speak only to the crew proficiency at launching the tanks.  It serves as no indication of the tactical cohesion and proficiency of the individual divisions when operating as a team.  One would hope that training had welded the disparate crews together, but that was likely only partly the case.  It is important to note that the task organization depicted in Figure 1 was only locked-in during the last half of May, whereas the training at Torcross was largely completed by the end of April.  In fact, with the assault group orders not being issued until the last week of May, it is questionable whether any of the DD tank training at Torcross was performed with the LCTs organized into their D-Day task organizations.  Which raises the question whether Barry was able to exercise his role as division commander in any meaningful way at any time during training.  Perhaps he did, but there are no records that indicate this. 

Recall RADM Hall’s comment in his Operation NEPTUNE report regarding the state of training leading up to D-Day.  Referring to Exercise FABIUS, the 3-6 May final D-Day rehearsal. He stated:

“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.”[3]

In summary, the DD/LCT force may have been eager and willing, but it was far from a well-honed naval force.  The LCTs were fresh off the construction ways and were manned by crews equally raw and partly trained.  By the time they arrived in theater, took possession of and reassembled their craft, and guided them through the local shipyard modifications and shakedown cruises, there was little time for division- or group-level maneuver training.  And inserting an outsider into the middle of the chain of command at that late date could only pose a problem for one unlucky division.

Of course, there was little chance this one point alone could result in a debacle.  But debacles invariably are the result of a cascading series of minor errors and flukes of fate.

An indication of the confusion over DD/LCT planning was contained in in the Western Naval Task Force (RADM Kirk) Operation Plan No. 2-44 (dated 21 April 1944).  This document was published five weeks after the start of the DD tank school, and just 9 days before the school’s formal course ended.  Most of the LCTs which would be used on D-Day had been at least partially trained by then. 

The problem was, Kirk’s order allocated only one DD/LCT division to Omaha Beach, and that was Division 69.  This was one of Rockwell’s two divisions, and it would be the one he personally led on D-Day.   Slated for Utah Beach were Rockwell’s second division (Division 70) and Division 71 (which was supposed to be the core of Barry’s division at Omaha).  The allocation therefore was just the opposite of the tactical requirement:  Omaha had one division when it required two, and Utah had two when it required one.  This undoubtedly was the reason behind Rockwell’s rather pointed comment in his 30 April report on training.

“3.  I should like to make the following recommendations:

“(a)  It is imperative that no one of the above listed LCTs be left out of the plans for DD tanks on D-Day.  The assault should have the use of the maximum amount of personnel with the maximum training.”[4]

From this it appears Rockwell feared that as WNTF sorted out the LCT assignment matter, they would simply tell him to use another division already slated for Omaha—even if it had missed out in training—rather than switch divisions between the beaches.  It was a well-founded fear, but fortunately it proved groundless.  The LCTs that had been selected for the DD tank mission had been fitted with special ramp extensions, so the LCTs used in training had to be used on D-Day.  And this in turn would require reallocation of LCTs.  There were three changes issued to Kirk’s WNTF order that would affect the task organization.  As of Change 1 (dated 4 May) the six craft of Division 17 that would constitute the core of Barry’s division were still listed under the Utah forces, with the remaining 18 LCTs listed correctly.  That date coincided with Exercise FABIUS, the final rehearsal for Omaha Beach, and with Division 71 still allotted to Utah Beach, they must have missed that exercise.  Nor did they participate in the Exercise TIGER, the final rehearsal for Utah Beach; Rockwell’s report indicates only 32 DD tanks were used in that exercise, which would have been Division 70, the one division the DD/LCTs actually intended for that beach.  Again, was Barry ever afforded the opportunity to lead his composite division in any realistic training?

Speaking the Language

Change 2 to Kirk’s WNTF order was issued on 10 May, and while a page survives that states the task organization was revised, the pages with those changes did not.   Fortunately Change 3 (published on 22 May) did survive and shows Division 71[5] was moved to Omaha Beach at least by that date.  As the only surviving copies of the Utah Beach landing tables show they were revised on 10 May, those tables could not reflect these changes to Kirk’s latest task organization.  This obscure fact has caused confusion for historians ever since.  

This switch of LCT divisions was the best opportunity to solve Rockwell’s span-of-control challenge.  The planners could have moved Rockwell’s Division 70 from Utah to Omaha, so that both of his divisions were on the same beach.  Unfortunately, Division 70 had already been incorporated into the Utah Landings Tables and Diagrams as bringing in the DD tanks of the 70th Tank Battalion, and had already rehearsed that role in Exercise TIGER.  Division 71, on the other hand, had been slotted to land artillery at Utah almost four hours after H-Hour, a task that took no special training or equipment.  The planners probably thought it was best to take the division that wasn’t already planned to carry DD tanks at Utah and move them to the beach where their special skills were needed.

The irony is that if Barry could not be trusted to act on his own, as implied by Rockwell’s and Leide’s later reports, then Utah would have been the best place for his division, because both the Assault Force commander and the Landing Force commander at Utah would be personally involved in the launch or land decision, and the deputy Assault Group commander would maintain direct control over that division until it beached.  In that environment, Barry would not have been given enough slack in his leash to get in trouble, as Rockwell and Leide suggested was the problem on D-Day.  Again, a minor glitch in planning—corrected by means of a curious half-measure—would contribute to the D-Day fiasco.  

Interestingly, the 22 May changes to Kirk’s task organization were correctly included in Hall’s order for Omaha (CTF 124 Operation Order No. BB-44) which was actually dated two days previously, on 20 May.  Clearly there had been some good staff coordination between the two headquarters.  Hall’s order also included some necessary and key details which would, unfortunately, be the source of further confusion in the DD/LCT saga.  Annex D of his order was the Attack Landing Plan, and it included a series of LCT Assignment Tables.  These tables specified the loads for each LCT, the craft’s designated landing beach sector and the craft’s relative landing position within the division.  It even designated the order of movement within the division and where the leader’s LCT would be.  These table are an excellent example of the detailed planning necessary for an assault landing to succeed.

The problem came because they were in part ignored.

An Error in Divisions

As D-Day approached, Rockwell and the DD tank company commanders were able to get a jump on the embarkation effort.  Most of the assault shipping would sail to the embarkation ports where they would load the troops and equipment they would carry to the far shore.  But on 25 March, just as the DD training was getting underway, MG Heubner (CG, 1st Infantry Division) provided an endorsement to a memo from COL MacLaughlin regarding that DD training.[6]  Part of that endorsement was a recommendation that the DD tanks be loaded on the LCTs and moved to the concentration areas by water rather than road convoys.  The LCTs were based at Dartmouth, which was close to the DD tank base at Torcross, so this recommendation made sense.  Heubner only controlled the tanks of the 741st and 743rd Tank Battalions, but he recommended the same procedure be used for the tanks of the 70th Tank Battalion, which were also training at Torcross and which were slated for Utah Beach.  And this recommendation was approved.  After Exercise FABIUS, the last D-Day rehearsal, the DD tanks were provided time on a firing range to boresight and check fire their main guns.  When that was completed, they were ready to embark on the LCTs when the alert order was issued. 

The Landing Tables of the 4th Division (revised 10 May) did correctly reflect the DD tanks of Companies A and B, 70th Tank Battalion, embarking at Torcross, and the wading tanks of Company C with the tank dozers, embarking at Dartmouth.[7]  For some reason, the Landing tables for the 1st Division did not reflect this change, and directed all the tanks of the 741st and 743rd Tank Battalions be embarked at Portland.  That was all too typical of the many relatively small errors in such a large and complex operation.  Nevertheless, all three battalions loaded their tracks as Heubner suggested:  the DD tanks loaded at Torcross and the wading tanks and tank dozers loaded at Dartmouth. 

On 25 June, the LCTs and DD tanks destined for Omaha Beach sailed for Portland.[8]  The problem was, the embarkation at Torcross had gone wrong.

For some unknown reason, Rockwell’s LCT division for Omaha Assault Group O-2 saw the two companies of the 743rd Tank battalion loaded on the incorrect LCT sections.  As loaded, Co. B would land on Dog White instead of Dog Green, with Co. C landing on Dog Green instead of Dog White.  The 1st Infantry Division’s Landing Tables had been published on 15 May and the Final Ship Assignment Lists were published on 16 May.  Both of these reflected the correct load assignments for each LCT.  So why didn’t Rockwell and Leide follow those orders?  It was most likely due to the fact that only 10 copies of those documents were included in the distribution to Hall’s headquarters, and the information in those would not be widely disseminated until Hall issued his own order.  That order included LCT Assignment Tables[9] which also correctly specified the loading and LCTs for Companies A and B.   It was published on 20 May, just five days before the LCTs and DD tanks sailed from Torcross to their departure ports.  The distribution list for Hall’s order included one copy for every LCT, so in theory, Rockwell and Leide should have seen the LCT Assignment Tables before embarking the tanks.  But that theory had a flaw.  Hall’s order was over 250 pages long and included vast segments that were completely irrelevant to the skipper of an LCT.  The communications annex alone was 100 pages long, and only a few paragraphs of it pertained to a craft commander.  The poor ensigns and lieutenants (junior grade)—who had absolutely no training or experience to prepare them for this aspect of a major operation—were swamped with irrelevant masses of information and had to sift through the chaff to find a grain or two of wheat.  Hall himself later acknowledged this was an error. 

“The Assault Force Commander’s order was distributed to all unit, craft and ship commanders, down to and including L.C.T.s.  In light of the experience gained, it is doubted whether such a wide distribution was either necessary or advisable.  In large part, the commanding officers of the smaller craft such as L.C.T.s and the units such as L.C.M and L.C.P.(L) Flotillas had neither the time nor the opportunity to digest the entire order.”[10]

Hall was undoubtedly correct in this.  He went on to recommend that in the future it be left to the assault group commanders (O-1, O-2, etc.) to disseminate only the necessary information in their orders, and not to burden junior officers with the entire amphibious force order.  This was a lesson Hall must have learned in his North African and Mediterranean operations, and it is curious he committed such an error for NEPTUNE.

Had Rockwell and/or Leide received copies of those Assignment Tables—buried in the mass of Hall’s order—and missed them, or perhaps misread them?  Or had Assault Group O-2 temporarily withheld distribution of Hall’s order until CAPT Bailey could issue it in conjunction with his own order (published 27 May, two days after the DD/LCTs sailed for Portland), which would have meant Rockwell and Leide had to act on faulty, unofficial information for embarkation?  Either explanation seems plausible, and there is no indication which might be the case.

The faulty embarkation was just one more glitch in a hurried, last-minute project, which was itself just a small part of an equally hurried major planning effort.  But at least the error could be fixed.  The four LCTs in each section were interchanged in the landing assignments tables and in the order of movement, thus getting the embarked tanks to the correct beaches.  This was effected by Change 1 to Hall’s operations order (dated 30 May).

The incident was significant enough that RADM Hall mentioned it in his NEPTUNE report, while at the same time minimizing its impact.

“A few mistakes were made, but these were detected in ample time to correct them; in one instance two companies of DD tanks were loaded on the wrong L.C.T.s, necessitating a change in the L.C.T. Assignment Table of the Operation Order.”[11]

Although indicative of the confusion that continued as D-Day loomed, this change likely had minimal impact.  True, eight LCT OICs needed to study different beach panoramas so they could identify by sight their intended landing sites, and it would change their convoy and approach formations, but as we’ll see, it seems not to have affected the events of D-Day.

Nevertheless, the last reason a lieutenant (junior grade) or lieutenant commander would want to come to their rear admiral’s attention was because they made an error which only he could fix.  Hall was not fond of the DD tank concept to begin with, and the two naval leaders of that effort had just made a rather significant error that needed Hall’s intervention to fix, and this just five days before the planned sortie date.  This episode must have made an unfavorable impression on Hall, and it is fair to wonder how this may have influenced the defensive tone in their post-D-Day reports as Rockwell and Leide tried to explain the D-Day debacle.

Beyond this, the embarkation confusion was perhaps a clue that not all was well within the DD/LCT project.  Given the key role of this first wave and Hall’s general misgivings about the DD program, an astute commander might have tasked his chief of staff or a plans officer to take a closer look at its status.  But given the sheer scope of Hall’s command and the last-minute character of much of the preparations, that sort of keen observation might be too much to expect. 

Or would it?  An insight into the adequacy of Hall’s planning can be gained from Admiral Ramsay, the Allied Naval Commander in Chief.  He visited Hall on 10 March, shortly before Exercise FOX—even before the creation of Moon’s Force Utah—and was not impressed. 

“He has not formed his Force O in groups as are Forces J & S & and he himself has been doing all the planning which should have been done by his group comdrs.  I asked him why this was & he hedged a bit but gave the excuse that he had not the commanders & staff necessary.  The answer of course is that he should have insisted on getting them.”[12] 

Ramsay’s observation was made a bit more than two months before Hall published his operations order, so we would like to hope that in that period much had been done to rectify the faults in Hall’s staff organization and planning.  Yet there are indications Hall never completely overcame this slow start.  Turning again to Hall’s report on Operation NEPTUNE, it is clear his priority was to keep his staff as small as possible due to limited space on the flagship and that inevitably must have impacted the quality of his planning as well as supervision of preparations.[13]  In that light, Hall’s lack of awareness concerning the confused planning for the DD/LCT project might not be excusable after all.

Formation Error

The next planning error would have more serious implications.  It’s also the more complex issue to describe, involving sailing formations and the approach to the beach.  As a result. I’ll go into some detail on the mechanics of the problem.

The standard method for landing craft when approaching a beach employed a column formation, with the section’s leader in the first ship.  Normally the senior Army officer would be in the same craft as the Navy section leader to ensure unity of effort.  As the column neared the beach, the formation would change to bring all craft into a shallow Vee formation with the lead craft at the point of the wedge.  This was done by each succeeding craft veering to left or right, based on their order in the column; even numbers would veer to the left, odd to the right.  This method ensured that the leader remained in the center of the formation, making it easier for the other craft to guide on the leader for the final run into the beach. It also had the advantage of landing the senior Army leader more or less in the center of his unit, easing his command and control tasks when he landed.   The shallow Vee formation ensured the craft would touch down at different moments, hopefully avoiding all the craft being hit by a single artillery salvo.  If the unit was a division of craft consisting of two sections, the process would be much the same, with the second section deploying to the left of the first section.

Figure 2. An extract from Assault Group O-1's Approach Schedule showing the landing formation of the first LCVPs on Easy Red Beach Sector.

Figure 2 illustrates this.  It is a diagram from the Approach Schedule of the Assault Group O-1 (CTG 124.3) operations order showing the final formation of a wave consisting of a division of LCVPs.[14]  The A and B sections have each moved from a column formation into shallow Vee formations in the vicinity of the line of departure.  Each LCVP is labelled with two designations.  The bottom number shows the landing table serial number and the relative position of each craft as it hits the beach, starting with the lowest number on the right with higher numbers to the left.  The top designation determines the crafts’ position in column movement before assuming the shallow Vee.  The A or B designated which section, and the last two letters designate the beach sector, in this case Easy Red.  The center numbers, 31-36, indicate the order within the section’s column.  Note in each Vee the leader’s craft designation ends in 1 (i.e., 31 in this case), The designations ending in odd numbers (33 and 35) are echeloned to the right, and the designations ending in even numbers (32, 34 and 36) are echeloned to the left.  By convention, the division leader is at the head of the righthand Vee, as indicated by the small flag symbol.  So the disposition of craft in this extract shows that initial plans called for the conventional approach formation of a column deploying into its final landing formation.  

Figure 3.  This detail from the Assault Group O-1 Landing Diagram depicts the intended positions of Barry's LCTs when they were to launch their tanks.  (Note: The boxes labelled with 'S's above the diamonds are small craft which were to lead each group of four DD tanks to the beach and provide last moment suppressive fires.)

Early planning for the DD/LCTs within Assault Group O-1 anticipated this same conventional scheme of maneuver for the DD/LCTs, as demonstrated by Figure 3, which is a detail from the Landing Diagram (Annex E) of that assault group’s operation order.[15]  It depicts the DD tanks (the diamond shapes) as they were intended to land on the indicated beaches.  Below each group of four diamonds are two LCT numbers.  The first number indicates the craft serial number, as used in the landing tables.  They were numbered sequentially, lowest to the right (55) and highest to the left (62).  The second LCT number (highlighted in red) is the actual hull number of the LCT carrying those four tanks.  Note that Barry’s division of eight LCTs has been broken into two four-craft sections.  The only difference between this and Figure 2 is that Barry’s two sections would launch with a gap of several hundred yards between them.  Barry’s own craft (LCT-537, second from the right in the line abreast formation) is exactly where the division leader should be positioned and this distribution of landing craft indicates that at the time this annex was developed, a normal approach formation was anticipated.  And it further proves that some coordination had been made between the CTG 124.3 staff and Rockwell, as the staff knew which craft (LCT-537) would be the division leader’s, and correctly placed it in the formation.

Figure 4.  The standard LCT approach formation deploying into line abreast, as Lt.(jg) Barry's division would have used on D-Day.

Figure 4 is a depiction of the standard sailing dispositions through the boat lanes for Barry’s division to launch their DD tanks as required.  This placed both the Army and Navy leaders in the same two craft.  It also placed the Navy leaders at the head of their division (Barry) and section (MacKenzie), as well as placing them as close to the center of their formation when launching.  It was an excellent scheme of maneuver for the purposes of command and control.  [Note:  As the LCTs were not supposed to actually land, there was no need to remain in the shallow Vee, and they would simply assume a line abreast formation for launching.]

As excellent as that may have been, it was about to be thrown overboard.  When the two assault groups finally published their operations orders, they did so after Rockwell had sailed with his already-embarked DD tanks on 25 May.  Assault Group O-1’s order wasn’t published until 29 May and O-2’s order on 25 May, and they contained a change to the approach plan.  Rather than leaving the Transport Area and sailing down the boat lanes to deploy as shown in Figure 4, the orders instead directed Barry’s and Rockwell’s division to proceed down a swept channel at the west boundary of each of their respective boat lanes.  In Barry’s case he was to follow the channel from Point BA to Point BB.  (See Figure 5)  The LCT division would remain in column until they reached the 6000 yard line, then turn left in column and proceed until the LCTs were opposite the intended beach sectors, turn to the starboard (right into line abreast) and prepare to launch their tanks.  That was a significant change.

Figure 5.  The Omaha Assault Area Diagram showing the anticipated approach to the beach (blue) and the final approach route (red) for Barry’s division as directed by the Assault Groups’ orders.

What was the reason for adopting this changed routing?  It isn’t clear.  In the Assault Group O-1 order, all landing craft were instructed to ‘be prepared’ to follow channel BA-BG, but otherwise plan on moving directly down the boat lanes.  Only the DD tanks and DUKWs were specifically ordered to use channel BA-BG.  The boat lanes were supposed to have been swept clear by H-3 hours, so it appears offshore mines were not the concern.  The only other consideration that seems to make sense would be the inexperience of the DD/LCT crews and leadership.  Elsewhere I have addressed how new and untrained these LCTs and crews were. 

Nor was their leadership much better.  Rockwell, whose only previous experience was in an LCT training command, had been appointed commander of Group 35, Flotilla 12, in late November 1943, which was just 15 months after receiving a commission.  That flotilla was just forming, with its LCTs still coming off the builders’ ways.  At this point his task was to get the new craft shipped overseas.  He reached the UK in mid-February himself, not yet having any experience as an LCT group commander.  Three weeks later he was sent to Dartmouth to lead the LCT component of the DD tank effort.  Rockwell did have the advantage of being in the Navy for almost two years at that point (he was commissioned from the ranks), but his time with LCTs was almost exclusively in Chesapeake Bay, and he had no training to prepare himself for the command of the 12 LCTs in his group.  And once he did link up with his LCTs, he was quickly sent off on the detached training mission with the DD tanks, heading a composite LCT unit, fully half of which were not from his organic group.  He didn’t even have a chance to learn group leadership and command skills at the feet of a flotilla commander. 

To put it mildly, Hall would be entrusting the critical first wave of 64 tanks to very inexperienced craft, crews and leaders.  And this is a likely explanation for the revised movement formation.  Given the very green crews, the follow-the-leader formation for the approach to the launching positions would place the least demands on the raw crews.

But there was a complication.  If the LCTs retained their planned column formation, then they would arrive offshore in a completely mixed up order, as depicted in Figure 6.  Not only would the two tank companies be landing on the wrong beach sectors, but the positions within the companies would be completely changed.  That was clearly unacceptable.

Figure 6.  Diagram showing the effect of the new approach formation as compared to the specified launching positions.

Something had to change, and the easiest solution seemed to be to change the order of LCTs within the sailing formation.  Neither of the assault groups’ operation orders specified the LCT formations during the Channel crossing or how they arrived in the Transport Area, so altering these formations would not require another embarrassing change to an already published order.  In the revised formation, the LCT scheduled for the easternmost launching position would lead, followed by the remaining LCTs in the order of their launching positions.  (Figure 7)  This solved the problem; now the LCTs would arrive in the correct positions, with their embarked tanks also correctly positioned.

Figure 7.  Diagram showing the revised sailing formation bringing the LCTs into the correct positions.

But one problem remained with this formation.  Instead of leading his division, Barry would be relegated to seventh position in a column of eight.  This was clearly not the position for the division leader.  Rockwell’s solution to this new problem was to order an exchange of OICs.  He directed Barry to take over LCT 549, which was the new lead craft, and directed its OIC, Ens McKee, to take over Barry’s LCT 537.  Apparently, Rockwell was slow in realizing this problem, or at least slow in devising a solution, as Barry didn’t not board LCT-549 until the day of the final sortie, 5 June.  Had the aborted 4 June sortie not been turned back by weather, the planned 5 June landings would have been conducted with Barry at the rear of his own formation.  This last-second act of expediency would have serious consequences.  In a stroke, Rockwell had broken apart the links between the Army and Navy leaders in that division.  (Figure 8)  Neither of the Army company commanders was collocated with his Navy counterpart.  Given that the various orders had imposed strict radio silence, and given that the order for Assault Group O-1 (under whom Barry operated) specified that the launch or land decision was supposed to be made jointly by the senior Army and Navy officers, then Barry would be facing serious obstacles.

Figure 8.  Diagram depicting the positions of key Navy and Army leaders resulting from the formation and LCT OIC changes.

Although the above discussion focuses on the effects within Barry’s division, similar formation changes were required within Rockwell’s division.  Rockwell, however, had one advantage for his division.  As the commander of Group 35, he was not the OIC of any individual craft.  He could position himself on any of his LCTs without displacing its OIC.  So, when he shifted his flag to LCT-535 (easternmost LCT and therefore the new division lead craft), it caused minimal impact within his division’s chain of command.  Nevertheless, it did physically separate him from CPT Elder, the man with whom he was supposed to consult.  So, the “unanimity of effort” Leide and Rockwell would later emphasize, was in fact disrupted by their own hands (though in response to external changes) before the operation began.

The embarkation for the Omaha DD/LCTs ended up being something of a mini-debacle which foreshadowed the D-Day events.  Both divisions encountered problems resulting from poor coordination.  One problem was fixed by the Task Force commander’s intervention.  The second was addressed through a series of expedient decisions with a far less satisfactory result.  Where does the fault for all of this lie?  There is no definite smoking gun, and it may be that Rockwell’s DD/LCT project was simply the unlucky victim of too hurried planning, conducted by too many layered commands, with too little adequate coordination.  We have seen indications of some direct coordination between either Rockwell or Leide and the two assault groups (notably the placement of command LCTs in the landing diagrams).  But something went wrong in that process.  The change in approach formations was common to both assault groups (but not as a result of Hall’s order), and it is difficult to believe Leide would not have gotten wind of it before embarkation at Torcross.  Rockwell probably can be excused for this failure simply because he was physically separated more so than Leide.  Were Rockwell and Leide to blame for the confusion and chaos?  Were they instead victims of Hall’s chaotic planning effort, one which apparently had not adequately improved since Ramsay’s observations in March?  Or was it a mixture of both?

Where Rockwell and Leide undisputably do come in for criticism, however, is how they covered up these failings after the D-Day debacle.  Neither officer mentioned either of the embarkation problems despite the fact that one of these problems would directly lead to the lack of coordinated command in Barry’s division on 6 June.  It was the exact kind of mitigating factor that their duty required them to report.  Their failure to make any mention of those details would appear to indicate they were covering up relevant facts that could call their own leadership into question.  

Rockwell was later to comment that in Barry, he had chosen the wrong man.  In reality, it seems Barry was in large part set up for failure by Rockwell’s orders and inadequate planning.  Rockwell in essence pled guilty to the lesser offense of selecting a poor subordinate—thereby making Barry the scapegoat—in order to deflect charges involving his own role in the events. 

In the next installment, we’ll take a deep dive into the actual events of D-Day.

Acknowledgements.

While researching this Omaha Beach Series, I have come in contact with several excellent researchers, and as good researchers do, we shared our finds. In the case of this DD Tank series, I owe a tremendous debt to Patrick Ungashick whom I stumbled upon while we were both delving into the subject. Patrick had managed to dig up a trove of Lt. Dean Rockwell’s personal papers which Rockwell had provided to Steven Ambrose. Any serious study of the DD tanks question must include these Rockwell papers, and I would have been lost without them. My sincere gratitude to him. Patrick has a book coming out this June which uses WWII case studies as a teaching vehicle for management decision making. One of those case studies focuses on, of course, the DD tanks at Omaha Beach. Patrick and I take somewhat different approaches to our analyses, and our conclusions are somewhat different, but I wholeheartedly recommend his upcoming book: A Day for Leadership; Business Insights for Today’s Executives and Teams from the D-Day Battle, or one of his other fine books. Thanks, Patrick!



[1] Memorandum from Commander, 3rd Armored Group, to Commander, 1st Infantry Division, subj: DD Tank Training, dtd 25 March 1944.  [RG407 Entry 427D - Neptune - DD Tank Training - Barges - File 659]  Armored groups, such as the 3rd, provided administrative and some logistical support for the independent tank battalions, but did control their tactical operations.  These battalions were normally attached to an infantry division for combat operations.

[2] Memorandum from DD LCT Unit Commander [LT.(jg) Rockwell] to Commander, ELEVENTH Amphibious Force [RADM Hall], subj: DD LCT Operations, Evaluation of Results of, dtd 30 April.  [RG407 Entry 427D - Neptune - DD Tank Training - Barges - File 659]  MAJ Duncan’s report of the same date included similar data.

[3] Report by Commander Assault Force “O”, included in The Report by The Allied Naval Commander-in-Chief Expeditionary Force on Operation “NEPTUNE”.  (Part V.—Comments and Recommendations; 4. Preparation and Training; (A) Comments, pg 622). 

[4] Opcit, Rockwell.

[5] LCTs 598-603; the additional two LCTs were already slotted for Omaha Beach.

[6] See footnote 1.

[7] The wading tanks of Company C, 70th Tank Battalion and the dozer tanks would land in a separate wave, directly on the beach, in support of the engineer beach gap clearance mission.  The organization at Omaha was different in that the DD tanks were in Companies B and C, and the wading tanks were in Company A of each battalion.

[8] Force O Commander in his NEPTUNE Report, pg. 5.

[9] Annex D, pg. 17 of CTF 124 Operation Order No. BB-44.

[10] Report by Commander Assault Force “O”, included in The Report by The Allied Naval Commander-in-Chief Expeditionary Force on Operation “NEPTUNE”.  (Part V.—Comments and Recommendations; 2. Plans, Planning and orders; (A) Comments, pg 618). 

[11] Report by Commander Assault Force “O”, included in The Report by The Allied Naval Commander-in-Chief Expeditionary Force on Operation “NEPTUNE”.  (Part V.—Comments and Recommendations; 13. Combat Loading; (A) Comments, pg 633).  The handwritten changes to the LCT Assignment Tables are visible in the NARA copies of this order.

[12] Ramsay, Bertram, (1994), The Year of D-Day, The 1944 Diary of Sir Bertram Ramsay, The University of Hull Press, pg. 41.

[13] Opcit. Part V.—Comments and Recommendations; 3. Staff Organization; (A) Comments, pp 618-619.

[14] Commander, Transport Division 1, Operation Order 3-44, dtd 29 May 1944, pg. C-8 of Appendix Three to Annex C (Approach Schedule).  Note that COMTRANS DIV 1 was designated the commander of Assault Group O-1 under Hall’s order, and as such carried the designation CTG 124.3 under the Force O task force organization.

[15] Ibid, Annex E.

The Duplex Drive Tanks of Omaha Beach, Part (b) Confusion of Command

Rear Admiral John L. Hall, USN.

Commander, Assault Force “O”

(USN 80-G-302404, via NARA)

Historical discussions of the loss of the DD tanks generally have been framed as a comparison of the decisions made by two sets of very junior officers; one set chose badly, the other chose wisely.  That’s very convenient framing for some parties as it distracts attention from the root causes of the debacle.  You see, the decisions of those junior officers were merely the precipitants for what immediately followed.  What has been excluded by that framing were the precedents. That is to say, the questionable decisions and actions of the chain of command in the preceding weeks which placed some of those junior officers in a difficult and ambiguous situation for which they were unprepared, and which set the stage for the loss of so many tanks.  Let’s see if we can provide a more complete perspective.

Command at Omaha - A Small Matter of Attitude

Rear Admiral (RADM) John L. Hall, Jr., had spent most of his early career serving in battleships, cruisers and destroyers, eventually rising to command the battleship USS Arkansas (BB-33).  The advent of war found Hall on the staff of the Commander, Battleships Atlantic, which duty was soon followed by a brief stint on the staff of the Chief of Naval Operations.  In the summer of 1942, Hall had a crushing disappointment.  He was to be sent out with the Operation TORCH naval forces (the North Africa landings, 9 November 1942), initially serving as chief of staff to then-RADM Hewitt, who commanded the Western Naval Task Force that would land Patton’s troops.  Following the landings, Hall was slated to command the West African Sea Frontier and the Naval Operating Base at Casablanca.  It was not the combat career for which he had spent a lifetime preparing.

From there, Hall’s career became wedded to the amphibious forces, and he soon became commander of the Amphibious Force Northwest Africa (later the Eighth Amphibious Force).  As such he was responsible for all US naval amphibious forces in the Mediterranean Theater of Operations and their bases.  It was principally an administrative and training command, whose mission was to prepare the amphibious elements for operations. When amphibious landings took place, Hall’s position made him the logical man to command an amphibious assault force, and during Operation HUSKY (the invasion of Sicily, 9 July 1943) Hall commanded the amphibious assault force that landed US troops at Gela (one of the two US amphibious assault forces in the invasion).  He then commanded the amphibious task force that landed the American corps at Salerno (Operation AVALANCHE).  By the time he was summoned to the UK in the fall of 1943, Hall had a solid foundation in amphibious landings.  It was a somewhat deceptive foundation, however, as none of the three landings he had taken part in was opposed by strong German-manned defenses at the water’s edge, or extensive beach obstacles.  As a result, he would perhaps underestimate some aspects of the Omaha Beach landings and be slow to appreciate the dangers.[1]

When Hall arrived in the UK, he was placed in command of the newly created Eleventh Amphibious Force, which was responsible for all US naval amphibious forces and bases operating from the UK.  It was a lateral transfer, and not to his liking.  His immediate superior was RADM Allan Kirk (Commander of NEPTUNE’s Western Naval Task Force), whose amphibious experience had been limited to a single landing (Operation HUSKY), where he had been Hall’s peer, commanding the second US amphibious assault force for that invasion.  Hall thought Kirk was “too much flash, not enough substance”, and believed he was more experienced than Kirk and therefore should have had his job.  But Kirk was not the only man Hall held in low esteem.  He similarly thought little of Admiral Bertram Ramsay (the Allied Naval Commander-in-Chief) and General Eisenhower, the Supreme Allied Commander.  In short, he thought little of all three men above him in the operational chain of command, which was less than an ideal situation. Hall’s attitude must have been further soured when the size of NEPTUNE was increased to five beaches and RADM Donald Moon was chosen to command the amphibious task force for the newly added Utah Beach landings.  Not only did Hall’s D-Day force get reduced by that decision, but Moon had absolutely no previous amphibious experience, which further irritated Hall.[2]

The organizational structure of Rear Admiral Hall’s Assault Force “O” for the Omaha Beach landings. The LCTs carrying the Duplex Drive tanks were divided between CTG 124.3 (Assault Group O-1) and CTG 124.4 (Assault Group O-2).

This slightly sour attitude arguably would combine with three other factors to influence Hall’s decisions during the leadup to NEPTUNE.  First, as touched on above, in his previous amphibious experiences, the beaches had not been nearly as heavily defended as they would be in Normandy, which led him to underestimate the difficulties the initial infantry waves would face.  This was evidenced in his opinion that landing tanks in the early waves of an assault was unnecessary, a rather poor piece of judgement to which he clung even in the wake of the Omaha landings. [See three paragraphs below.]

Second, Omaha Beach would be Hall’s third outing as an amphibious assault force commander, a role which doctrinally placed him in command of the Army forces for the first days of the landings until the Army was “firmly established ashore.”  It was a very temporary arrangement which, nevertheless, could lead some amphibious commanders to believe they understood ground combat better than the soldiers.  In Hall’s case, this tendency was influenced by recent experience. As Hall approached his third landing, he could look back on the lack of amphibious experience of some of his Army landing force commanders, both past and present.  Only Patton (who Hall landed in HUSKY) had previous experience commanding an amphibious landing (TORCH).  The Salerno landings saw the inexperienced Lieutenant General Mark Clark as the commander of the Army landing force, and Clark’s conduct of that operation was far from satisfactory.  For the Omaha landings, Hall would have the veteran 1st Division (which had been in the amphibious assaults for TORCH and was landed by Hall in HUSKY), but neither the division’s new commander nor the new V Corps commander for NEPTUNE (under whom the 1st Division would operate) had any previous amphibious experience.  As a result, there was an undertone in Hall’s planning that indicated he thought he knew better than the Army when it came to the soldiering side of the business.  And in some amphibious respects he probably did, but it would turn out that his greater experience would lead him somewhat astray in the unique operating environment of Normandy. 

And third, although very aware of the inadequate bombardment assets available, he took a very dim view of the makeshift—yet vital—efforts to compensate for that shortage, and perhaps failed to do all he could have to help those efforts succeed.  Which brings us back to the Duplex Drive tanks.

In February 1944, Hall and Lieutenant General (LTG) Omar Bradley (commander of the First US Army) had observed a demonstration of the DD concept using British Valentine tanks.  Bradley was enthused.  Recognizing the need for substantial tank support in the initial waves to compensate for the lack of bombardment assets, Bradley was faced with the problem of how to get them ashore.  The Navy was initially unprepared to support this, and the best they could do was obtain a limited number of British LCTs, to which some additional armor was added, in the hopes that they had a reasonable chance of surviving the task of landing tanks in the first wave (the so-called LCT(A)s. In an effort to bolster the bombardment firepower and provide past minute suppressive fire, wooden platforms were built at the front of these LCTs to permit the two lead tanks to fire over the ramp during the final approach to the beach.  It was a limited and hurried effort, producing only enough LCT(A)s to bring in two tank companies on Omaha Beach (and one company on Utah).  That was four companies fewer than Bradley needed for Omaha, and even then, these up-armored LCTs barely arrived in time for the operation.  If the Navy was not willing to use unarmored LCTs to bring in the remaining four tank companies, the DD tank concept appeared to be the next best solution.  Hall, by contrast, viewed them as impractical ‘gimmicks.’  He was at least partially correct; DD tanks did prove practical only under restricted conditions.  His error was in not recognizing that bad circumstances sometimes require the least bad options—which, frankly, is what the DD tanks were.  As Hall noted in his after action report:

“The Force Commander [Hall, 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.” [3]

His disdain for the concept almost certainly fathered the disjointed and vague planning for the employment of the DD tanks, and led to inadequate command supervision on D-Day.

Delegation or Dereliction?

At four of the five invasion beaches, the decision to launch the DD tanks was made by the amphibious force commander for that particular beach, or it was delegated to one of his senior subordinates. They used their judgement as to how far out to launch or whether to launch at all.[4]  There was only one beach where the amphibious force commander refused both to make that decision or delegate it to a senior subordinate, and that was Omaha Beach. Hall, who viewed the DD tanks as impractical gimmicks, ended up fobbing the decision off on very junior officers with woefully unclear guidance.

The origin of what would become the heart of the problem lay in reports from then-Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Dean Rockwell[5] (US Navy) and Major William Duncan (US Army).  Duncan was the Executive Officer of the 743rd Tank Battalion but had been temporarily detailed to be the school commandant for training the Army DD tank crews and for preparing the newly arrived DD tanks.  Rockwell, commanding the newly created LCT Group 35 (part of LCT Flotilla 12), was charged with supporting the school’s training while also training LCT crews for their role in launching DD tanks.  Their reports, both signed on 30 April 1944, were clearly written in concert and differed only in minor details.  Both reports stated that the decision to launch the DD tanks should be the responsibility of a suitable Army officer.  Neither report mentioned any role for the Navy in such a decision.  To quote Duncan’s recommendation:

“(b)  That an Army officer who has worked with DD’s and knows the sea conditions which are favorable to DD’s give the decision as to whether the DD’s will be launched or carried directly to the beach by the LCT.”[6]

Presumably, MAJ Duncan felt that those risking their lives in the DD tanks would be the men best equipped to decide what risk the sea posed.  And that logic is attractive.  But it is doubtful that an Army officer who has undergone just one or two weeks of training (which was all the tank company commanders had), half of which did not include open water launching, would be qualified as to what differentiated Force 3 from Force 4 conditions just by sight (Force 3 being the recommended upper limit for safe launches).  Moreover, he would be completely unqualified to judge the nature and strength of crosscurrents off the beach, which consideration, as it turns out, was as important a factor in the loss of the DD tanks as were the waves and winds.  Clearly these are factors the naval officers would be far more able to judge, and Duncan was in error suggesting the Navy be relieved of the responsibility. Duncan was also in error recommending the decision be solely left to a junior Army officer, as it would turn out, the most senior Army officer afloat with the DD tanks would be a captain.  

Rockwell’s report included much the same recommendation, but it also revealed the Navy’s reluctance to shoulder any responsibility in the matter.

“Inasmuch as the Army is desirous of launching, if at all possible and feasible, the DD tanks on D-Day, an Army officer who is thoroughly cognizant of the limitations and peculiarities of said tanks should make the decision, in case of rough sea, whether or not that tanks shall be launched or taken directly to the beach.” [7]

To crudely paraphrase, ‘it’s the Army’s pet idea and I don’t want anything to do with that decision.’ As we’ll see, he later changed his tune in the wake of 6 June.

The issue of who would make the ‘launch or land’ decision eventually reached LTG Bradley.  Bradley’s position on the matter differed from that of Duncan and Rockwell.  Bradley recognized that the ultimate decision on delivering the DD tanks was fundamentally a Navy obligation, though necessarily with the advice of an Army counterpart.  Although the DD tanks were something of a doctrinal odd duck, it was solely the Navy’s unchallenged responsibility to get the Army ashore, and by extension in the case of the DD tanks, to decide whether launching or landing was the more effective option given the conditions on D-Day. As a result, on 17 May Bradley sent a letter on the subject to RADM Kirk, Commander of the Western Naval Task Force. Kirk’s two subordinate task forces were responsible for the Omaha and Utah operations, thus he was RADM Hall’s immediate superior.  Quoting from that letter:

“Although the control of DD tanks in the final analysis remains the responsibility of the Corps Commander concerned, it is appreciated that the decision to beach the LCTs is a responsibility of the Naval Task Force Commander and must be the result of close collaboration with the Corps Commander.”[8]

In other words, while the Army had a big stake in the decision and should have input, ultimately it was a Navy responsibility to make the ‘launch or land’ decision.  To facilitate knowledgeable Army input to that decision, two days before Bradley sent his letter, V Corps (the Omaha Landing Force) had directed Colonel McLaughlin be assigned to the command ship USS Ancon “as he will be the specialist to advise CG Force O in regard to launching DD tanks.”[9]  COL McLaughlin was the commander of the 3rd Armored Group, the parent headquarters of the two tank battalions which furnished the DD companies for Omaha Beach. Duncan’s school fell within MacLaughlin’s authority.  Designated as the ‘knowledgeable officer’, MacLaughlin was therefore positioned to advise the V Corps Commander, who in turn would advise the amphibious task force commander in his decision—the latter man being RADM Hall for Omaha Beach.

Bradley’s letter went on to address an additional, related issue that seems to have arisen.  His closing sentence to that letter read:

“It is believed that to delegate that authority for either of the above decisions to Commanders of craft would result in uncoordinated and piecemeal attacks.”

We don’t know exactly what sparked this concern or who might have wanted to delegate the ‘launch or land’ decision to craft commanders.  A literal reading of both Rockwell’s and Duncan’s reports recommended the decision fall to an Army officer “who had worked with DDs” (Duncan’s words, though Rockwell used similar language) which would have precluded any Navy participation in this decision.  Only one Navy order had been issued by the date of Bradley’s letter, and that was Kirk’s Operation Plan No. 2-44 (for the Western Naval Task Force (WNTF)), dated 21 April1944, and it made no mention of an option to land DD tanks directly on the beach, much less did it identify who would make that decision.[10]  How this concern may have reached Bradley isn’t clear (I suspect it came from COL McLaughlin), but he clearly saw the folly in such an idea.  Almost all of the designated LCT officers-in-charge (OICs) were of the lowest naval officer rank—ensign (officer grade O-1)—recently commissioned and with little leadership experience and even less sea experience.  To entrust to these men a decision involving the fate of two thirds of the initial armor support would be irresponsible.  But to be clear, Bradley was not just casting aspersions on junior naval officers.  The phrase “uncoordinated and piecemeal” would have equally applied if the decision were to be entrusted to junior Army officers, as the senior tank commanders aboard on D-Day (company commanders of grade O-3) were just one grade higher than the two most senior LCT commanders.  This was a decision that demanded older, wiser and more experienced officers than would be found aboard those LCTs on D-Day.

In summary, Bradley insisted on two points: 1) It was a naval responsibility, with due consideration given to Army advice; and 2) It should be made at the amphibious task force command level; delegating that decision to a junior naval officer in Wave 1 would be a mistake.  Bradley would be proven absolutely correct.

SIDEBAR:  COL Severne S. MacLaughlin, Commander, 3rd Armored Group.

The armored groups were established as headquarters for the independent tank battalions assigned to a corps. Unlike most headquarters, however, the armored groups did not normally exercise direct tactical control over their subordinate battalions. Instead, the battalions were attached to the infantry divisions under the corps for tactical operations. The responsibilities of the armored group headquarters were limited to a minimal degree of administrative supervision, and their small staffs were usually tasked with additional duties. In V Corps, COL MacLaughlin and the bulk of his staff served as the ‘Armored Section’ of the corps general staff. Although also charged with supervision of his group’s pre-invasion training, his presence at the DD Tank School was minimal, at least according to MAJ Duncan.

In fact, MacLaughlin’s reputation among the men of the DD tanks was not good, resulting from a fatal accident. According to MAJ Duncan, MacLaughlin visited the school one Sunday, wanting to see a demonstration of the the DD tanks. The weather was poor enough that it prevented swimming the tanks, and the Navy rescue craft had been released and were back at their base at Dartmouth. MAJ Duncan and COL MacLaughlin had a confrontation, with the former refusing to order men out in the water under the circumstances.  MacLaughlin took responsibility and sent for two company commanders, who came up with two volunteer crews. At this point Duncan and MacLaughlin had another exchange of words, with MacLaughlin stating he only wanted to see them go out 50 yards, and Duncan holding that 10 yards was far enough under the circumstances. Have lost this exchange, too, Duncan returned to his office in a nearby building.

One of the volunteer tanks had made it into the water and gotten 50-75 yards out when its canvas skirts collapsed. A hurried, makeshift rescue effort was mounted. The lieutenant commanding the tank disappeared after directing rescuers to leave him and go after two of his men. Those two were eventually pulled ashore, but, suffering from sever hypothermia, died en route to a hospital.

A board of inquiry was held that night, and COL MacLaughlin was found responsible. The findings of the board were forwarded to higher headquarters, where the findings were overturned and the incident was written off as a training accident - at least according to Duncan. Duncan’s 30 April 1944 report on DD tank training did mention the loss of three men, so the incident did happen. Whether the details are accurate as Duncan reported them is another question, as he clearly did not respect MacLaughlin - and perhaps with good cause.

The question then is, was MacLaughlin a wise choice as the officer best suited to offer the Army input for launching the DD tanks in questionable weather?   In a counterintuitive manner, he may have been exactly the man to make the judgement. Having been responsible for the loss of a DD tank and three men just a stone’s throw from the beach at Torcross, he would have known better than most how fragile the tanks were in the face of marginal seas. And, already suffering from the guilt for his role in the loss of the men, he would have been predisposed to err on the side of caution. In this sense, COL MacLaughlin might well have been the best possible man to offer advice.

Or . . . it could be that he was the kind of man who refused to learn from his mistakes (and the deaths of others), and on D-Day he might have doubled down in his poor judgement.   After all, GEN Eisenhower was launching the entire invasion in the face of marginal weather. Might not Severne MacLaughlin be considered just as bold and decisive for expecting his tankers to succeed in the face of waves?

The fact is that we have no idea whether MacLaughlin would have rendered sound advice on D-Day.  All we can say for certain is that the first decision point that might have averted disaster was eliminated when RADM Hall decided to cut himself and the Corps commander (and MacLaughlin) out of the decision loop.

The Best Laid Plans . . .

There is no record of RADM Kirk’s reply to Bradley’s letter, but we can make an inference from what Kirk did next.  On 22 May—five days after Bradley’s letter—Kirk’s headquarters issued “Change Number Three 3 to Naval Commander, Western Task Force Operation Plan No. 2-44.”  It stated in part:

“Assault Force Commanders may break radio silence after H minus 120 [0430 hours] for communication in connection with launching DD tanks.”

To be clear, the senior Army officer was termed the ‘Landing Force Commander’; the term ‘Assault Force Commanders’ referred to the senior Navy officers—Hall (Omaha) and Moon (Utah).  So, in that change, Kirk was clearly authorizing Hall and Moon to use radios to contact the LCTs (or the LCT flotilla commanders) to inform them of the results of the ‘launch or land’ decisions.  And they could make this decision as early as 0430 hours.  It would seem Bradley’s wisdom was endorsed by Kirk.

But just the opposite policy eventually took root in Hall’s assault force, and it came about in a vague way.  When Hall issued his Operation Order No. BB-44 on 20 May[11] (two days before Kirk’s clarifying order on radio silence regarding DD tanks), it contained these specific instructions to the commanders of Assault Groups O-1 and O-2 (paragraphs 3(c) and 3(d) of the base order): 

“Weather permitting, launch DD tanks about six thousand yards offshore and land them at about H minus ten minutes.  If state of sea is such as to prevent their being launched and proceeding to the beach under their own power, land them with the first wave.”   

The Attack Landing Plan for the LCTs (Annex D to Hall’s operations order) contained similar language:

“LCT’s carrying DD tanks launch DD tanks about 6,000 yards from beach in time for them to land at H-10, if state of sea permits swimming. Otherwise LCTs land with LCT(A)s in first wave.”

The good news, therefore, is that Hall’s order did address the possibility of needing to make a launch or land decision. His boss’ original order (RADM Kirk’s order for the WNTF) did not even do that.  This represented a softening of the Navy’s position; they’d bring the DD tanks all the way into the beach in unarmored LCTs, but only if the sea state made it necessary. In the individual instructions to both the Assault Group O-1 and O-2 commanders (the only two assault groups that included the DD/LCTs), Hall’s order used that identical language, thereby effectively delegating the launch or land decision to those two men. Notably, he offered no guidance on whether Army input would be sought or accepted.  While this delegation appears to be clear, an oddity of the naval command structure then came into play. 

The men designated as the commanders of those two assault groups were also commanders of their respective Transport Divisions. CAPT Fritzsche, as the commander of Transport Division 1 (including the USS Chase, USS Henrico and HMS Empire Anvil) also served as the Assault Group O-1 commander. Similarly, CAPT Bailey, commanding Transport Division 3 (including the USS Carroll, USS Jefferson and HMS Empire Javelin) also served as the Assault Group O-2. And those two men had absolutely no experience with DD tanks.  Furthermore, they were scheduled to be in the area for only about 12 hours before their transports sailed to the UK, at which time their deputies would take over command of the assault groups.  So their stake in the goings-on among LCT skippers was as shallow as it was brief. It was bad enough that Hall didn’t want to make the launch or land decision himself; his delegation of this responsibility to the assault group was just another indication of his careless attitude to the matter.

The common sense alternative would have been to delegate that authority to the two deputy Assault Group Commanders. These deputies were in command of the awkwardly named “Non-Transport Based Assault Ships and Craft” task element within their respective assault groups, and would be actively working out in the boat lanes during the landings, overseeing movement of craft to and from the beach. Critically, the DD/LCTs were in the task element directly commanded by the Deputy Assault Group commander. Between the craft directly under their commands (the LSTs, LCIs, LCTs and Rhino ferries) and the other craft whose movements they controlled during the landings, they were responsible for 98% of the craft in each assault group. In addition, as they would be located in the boat lanes and would operate far closer inshore than the Assault Group commanders (whose ships would be anchored 13 miles offshore), they would be in a much better position to judge sea conditions for launching. This alternative also would have largely paralleled the policy at the British beaches. 

Perhaps Hall assumed that the two Assault Group commanders would naturally delegate this decision further down to their deputies? If so, he was wrong. 

Further, Hall’s order was critically vague on the key point of what would be an unsafe sea state.  While both Rockwell and Duncan had stated that Force 3 was the maximum sea state for launching, Hall’s order did not include this key decision criterion for his subordinate commanders.  Duncan, as the executive officer of his battalion, would not be aboard the DD/LCTs on D-Day. In this planning vacuum, it appears the only man who would both be present on D-Day in a position to influence things and who had been part of establishing the Force 3 decision criterion would be Rockwell. Was it likely that this detail had been informally passed among LCT and tank company commanders? Yes, it probably was. But the failure to clearly state the Force 3 cutoff in the orders meant inexperienced junior officers would be left to their ‘best military judgement’ under the pressure of D-Day. It simply created yet another possible point of confusion and error.

So far, the planning process had eliminated one key decision point, kicked the decision down to the lowest levels, and introduced confusion by failing to state the most important decision criterion. And the planning process was just getting under way.

Hall’s order followed Bradley’s letter by just 3 days and was published before Kirk issued the change to his order. So Hall’s order could not be expected to reflect any agreement Bradley and Kirk had reached.  Nevertheless, Hall’s original order did contain this provision (Annex H, Communications Plan):

“8. (a) Radio silence is to be maintained by all units of the assault force from the time of sailing up to H-Hour, except for:

“(1) Enemy reports providing the enemy has been clearly identified.

“(2) After “H” minus 120 minutes as ordered by the Force Commander for specific purposes.”

Those were the only two exceptions, and his order did not elaborate on what ‘specific purposes’ the Force Commander might have in mind. So clearly Hall did anticipate being granted authority to break radio silence at H-120 (advance knowledge perhaps coming through staff channels or discussions between Kirk and Hall), but his order did not link that exception to the DD tank decision, which was the specific exception cited in Kirk’s change to his WNTF order two days later. Although Kirk’s exception was not published before Hall’s order, when it finally was issued, Hall did nothing to implement it. On 30 May 1944, Hall issued 20 pages of changes to his original Force “O" order (BB-44), but these made no further mention of the radio silence policy, much less link it to the launching of DD tanks. Having delegated the responsibility for the launch or land decision, he failed to delegate the necessary authority to break radio silence to disseminate the decision. And that posed a problem, as any decision on the DD tanks would require radio consultations between the decision makers, and additional radio transmission to the necessary craft and units at about H-90.

The unfortunate reality is that as of 30 May, the date Hall issued the change to his order, he had left the DD tank matter in something of a state of limbo. His lack of concern is perhaps illustrated by his own order. Annex L, Reports Required, listed three pages of items that had to be reported to CTF 124 (Hall) as the operation unfolded. It did not include a requirement to inform Hall whether the DD tanks would be launched or landed.

Apparently, it wasn’t a matter important enough to merit his attention.

Composition of the initial two Assault Groups landing on Omaha Beach. (The Assault Group involved in the landings of the Ranger Task Force is omitted here as they were outside the scope of the DD tank operations.)

Planning, One Level Down

Minor clarity would come from the next level of planning, but in general, the confusion spread a bit further. The commanders of Assault Groups O-1 and O-2 issued their own orders late in May (29 May for Assault Group O-1 and 27 May for Assault Group O-2). 

The order for Assault Group O-1 did not directly address the DD/LCTs.[12] The paragraph listing specified tasks for the Non-Transport Based Assault Ships and Craft (CTU 124.3.3) omitted any reference to DD/LCTs. In Annex C, Approach Schedule, the DD/LCTs were listed as the first wave, however no landing time was listed. Worse, the Approach Diagrams (Appendix 3 to Annex C) also omitted any reference to DD/LCTs. All other references to the DD/LCTs were contained in sections which—strangely—provided instructions to other entities. The most substantive comment regarding DD/LCTs was in Annex F, LCS(S) Employment. The Landing Craft, Support (Small) were 36 foot long craft, and one of their tasks was to lead in the DD tanks to the beach after they were launched. Paragraph 5 of that Annex stated:

“If the state of the sea is such as to prevent DD tanks from being launched and proceeding to the beach under their own power, LCT(DD)s will land them with the first wave.**”

This wording was virtually identical to the general provision in Hall’s order. The two asterisks directed the reader to this footnote:

“** The matter will be decided by the Senior Naval Officer in charge of LCTs (DD), and the Senior Army Officer in charge of DDs.” 

The footnote’s indirect comment was the only mention of who would make the launch or land decision for Group O-1. There were no other directions to the DD/LCT division leader or the Army tank officer regarding their role in this or even citing a decision criterion. The result of this informational footnote is that this order kicked the responsibility down from the Assault Group commander (a Navy captain, O-6 grade) all the way down to a Navy Lt.(j.g.) (O-2 grade) and roped an Army Captain (O-3 grade) into the mix. The Deputy Assault Group commander was cut out of the decision. Needless to say, an informational footnote in an annex dealing with altogether different craft was a totally inadequate way to delegate authority regarding LCTs. There should have been a separate annex, or at least a paragraph in the base order directly addressing the tasks of the DD/LCT unit, and it should have provided instructions, guidance, and—most importantly—specifically delegated the authority. In fact, the absence in this order of any specified tasks, or virtually any consideration, for the DD/LCT element could lead one to wonder if these LCTs were actually operating under orders from another authority. It is only the fact that the DD/LCTs were included in the task organization for the ‘Non-Transport Based Assault Ships and Craft’ element that indicates they even belonged to Assault Group O-1. Furthermore, the small matter of what would happen if the senior Navy and Army officers disagree was politely ignored.  The result of this order was a complete reversal of Bradley’s position.

The operation order for Assault Group O-2 started off better, with paragraph 3 (7) of the base order (rather than buried in an annex) directly addressing the launch or land decision with the by now familiar: [13]

“If state of sea is such that DDT’s cannot be launched, land them from LCT’s with HOW Hour wave.”

But the base order made no reference to who should make this decision or state the decision criterion in concrete terms. The Annex C, Approach Plan, did, however, correctly include the DD/LCTs, noting the DD tanks would ‘unload’ 6,000 yards offshore at H-55. As with the O-1 order, the Assault Group O-2’s Annex F, LCS(S) Employment, included this provision:

“3. If weather conditions do not permit the launching of DDT’s proceed ahead of LCT carrying assigned DDT’s from the Line of Departure to the beach, to land with the FIRST wave.”

But in this order, there was no footnote to identify exactly who would make that decision. In fact, it simply was not addressed anywhere in the order. As a result, the O-2 order was even less satisfactory than the O-1 order.

As far as formal planning was concerned, the operations orders of the two assault groups did little to clarify roles and responsibilities. All that can be said to their credit was that both did address the possibility that they might have to bring the DD tanks all the way onto the beach, but since Hall’s order had already raised that contingency, the assault group’s orders added nothing positive in that regard. At least the O-1 order did indirectly mention who would make the launch or land decision for that group, pinning the rose on the senior Navy DD/LCT officer and the senior Army company commander. But even that was of little help, as those LCTs would be led by Lt.(j.g.) Barry, who informally fell under Rockwell, and who, it would turn out, had his own ideas on who should make such a decision.

The logical assumption is that when the O-1 order mentioned the senior Army and Navy officers, it referred to the senior men in just Assault Group O-1, and their decision would only govern the eight DD/LCTs of O-1. It was, obviously, an order that only governed O-1. From that footnote in the O-1 order, many have assumed that a similar decision process was in effect within Assault Group O-2 — but it must be stressed that the O-2 order neither stated nor implied this. Therefore, such an assumption is not warranted, however tempting it may be. We must look to other sources to try to clarify this.

There is a counter interpretation.  The “the Senior Naval Officer in charge of LCTs (DD), and the Senior Army Officer in charge of DDs” might have referred to the senior officers in the entire Omaha Beach DD/LCT operation. That is, one senior Army officer and one senior Navy officer making one decision for both assault groups.  Rockwell had been the senior LCT officer concerned with the DDs since the inception of training and styled himself the “DD LCT Unit Commander” in his 30 April report on training.  Even though he was assigned to Assault Group O-2 for the invasion, he continued to exercise authority over all the LCTs in both groups, going so far as to designate the division/wave leader for the DD/LCTs of O-1. In fact, he even directed a last-minute switch in the officers commanding two LCTs in Assault Group O-1.  It was Rockwell who had the most experience in the LCT/DD combination, and it was Rockwell who the Navy looked to as the expert on the subject.   Indeed, three of the Officers in Charge of LCTs in Group O-1 addressed their reports to Rockwell as “DD LCT Commander”, “Commander, DD LCTs” or “Commander, DD LCT Group”—even though Rockwell was in Group O-2.  Given that Rockwell’s authority—both formal and informal—extended beyond his mere role within Assault Group O-2, the order was written vaguely enough to plausibly imply he would be the one to make the Navy’s half of the decision for both assault groups.  Having acknowledged that possible interpretation, I find is nothing to support it. The O-1 order applied only to O-1 units, and the O-2 order didn’t even address the point. Therefore, I will set it aside and proceed with the original interpretation.

The four orders discussed above constitute the sum total of written guidance on the employment of DD tanks and the LCTs that carried them at Omaha. In summary, a vague concept incompletely articulated at the higher levels, became a bit more specific yet at the same time more disjointed and uncoordinated by the time it was articulated in the orders of the two assault groups. Worse, what little that was specified could be interpreted in more than one way. Shoddiness in orders such as these seldom goes unpunished by the gods of war.

The Unwritten Agreements No One Could Agree on Later

Nor would the gods of war pass up this opportunity. They set the god of Chaos on the job, and the god of Chaos convened a meeting to address what the orders failed to do. A warning is in order here. Nothing about this meeting was documented at the time, and that includes the results and decisions it produced. We have three subsequent reports that reference this meeting, and none are consistent. Each report was penned in the aftermath of the D-Day debacle and all were obviously crafted to cast author’s role in the best light. Unfortunately, whatever did happen in the meeting(s) lies at the heart of the DD tank question, and since the actual events of the meeting remain lost in a fog of uncertainty, it limits our ability to draw supportable conclusions.

This meeting supposedly took place while the DD/LCTs were still in Portland Harbor (located in Weymouth Bay), which puts it sometime after 25 May (when the DD/LCTs sailed from Torcross) and before 4 June (the original sortie date). The first mention of this meeting was a paragraph in Rockwell’s 14 July 1944 report addressed to the Commander in Chief, United States Fleet, subject: Launching of “DD” Tanks on D-Day, N. France Operation.[14] In it he stated:

“Before leaving Portland, the question had been raised by this command as to the course to pursue in the event of a sea too rough for a launching. Despite the insistence of this command that a decision be made by one senior Army officer for both battalions, the question of launching was finally left to the senior officer of each battalion, in this case Captain Thornton of the 741st and Captain Elder of the 743rd. This decision was agreed upon by Lt. Colonels Skaggs and Upham, commanding the 741st and 743rd, respectively.”

Much as been inferred from this passage, most of which isn’t justified, so it needs careful examination. At it’s core, this version was an attempt to nullify, or at least alter without authorization, the footnote included in the Assault Group O-1 order. As Rockwell fell under Assault Group 0-2, he certainly had no authority to do that, whatever the merits of his proposal.

Although this passage was later cited as an effort to achieve ‘unanimity of effort’, the fact is that his proposition only discussed how the Army would make the launch or land decision, and included no role for the Navy. In reading that passage, many have inferred that the proposal must have included a counterpart, that is, a single decision-maker for the Navy. But there was no mention of this, and as we’ll soon see, there was evidence this meeting relieved the Navy of any role in the decision. And that outcome, perhaps not so coincidentally, was exactly what Rockwell advocated in his 30 April report on training: that the decision should be strictly an Army responsibility. In this interpretation, the Portland meeting was merely a backdoor gambit to impose his preferred assignment of responsibilities, despite what the orders may have had to say. And this was a second dimension of his effort to nullify the Assault Group O-1 order that it was to be a joint decision by the senior Army and Navy DD/LCT officers of that group.

The above point is usually missed based on Rockwell’s next paragraph which was crafted to make it appear he was a partner in the decision leading to success within his own group:

“At 0505 this command contacted Captain Elder via tank radio and we were in perfect accord that the LCTs carrying tanks of the 743rd Battalion would not launch, but put the tanks directly on the designated beaches.”

We will deconstruct that particular sentence in a later installment, so for now I’ll merely note that Rockwell’s report was apparently designed to throw Barry under the bus. That may sound like a very harsh judgement. After all, Rockwell would become a hero for his actions on D-Day, earning a Navy Cross for the decision he made that morning. And as a consequence of his D-Day actions, he was elevated to interim command of then-forming LCT Flotilla 42 in early to mid 1945. And that was an impressive accomplishment. In October 1943 he was merely a newly commissioned ensign, assigned as the OIC of a single LCT. But in the next 18 months he would be put in command of a group of 12 LCTs, and then in command of an LCT flotilla of (nominally) 36 LCTs. [Information on LCT Flotilla 42 is sparse, but according to Rockwell—who is the source of this detail—the flotilla was at Pearl Harbor preparing to sail to the western Pacific when the war ended.] As his meteoric rise was primarily founded on the reports filed after D-Day, it is only fair to examine those reports carefully. And that examination raises serious questions, the first of which was his treatment of Barry.

Recall how the DD/LCTs were organized. The DD/LCT formations for Assault Groups O-1 and O-2 were each based on a division of 6 LCTs from Flotilla 12. In O-1, it was Division 71, LCT Group 36, Flotilla 12. To round the formation out to the needed 8 craft, two LCTs were added: LCT 537 (Div 109, Gp 36, Flot 19) and LCT 549 (Div 111, Gp 35, Flot 19). In O-2, the formation was based on Division 69, Group 35, Flotilla 12. It was rounded out by LCT 535 (Div 68, Gp 34, Flot 12) and LCT 713 (Div 151, Gp 76, Flot 26). So 13 of the 16 DD/LCTs were from the same flotilla as Rockwell. And one oddity stood out in the O-1 force. Although it contained all the LCTs of Div 71, that division’s commander did not lead the O-1 DD/LCT force. Barry, the outsider from Flotilla 19, was put in charge over all of Division 71’s craft, not to mention over their normal leader, Lt.(j.g.) Scrivner. As the outsider, Barry was in a delicate position at best. At worst, he would perhaps stand as a convenient scapegoat—assuming someone might need one. And in that context, it is hard not to view with suspicion the fact that although Barry was still part of Rockwell’s DD/LCT organization on D-Day (though not in his operational chain of command), Rockwell didn’t even bother to obtain Barry’s report before submitting his own. He obtained several reports from Barry’s subordinate OICs before submitting his report, but did not wait for Barry’s. And that’s an important fact, as Barry’s handwritten report (dated 22 July) is the clearest description of result from the Portland meeting as to who would make the launch or land decision. And he directly contradicted Rockwell. Barry stated:

“The senior army officer was the person to decide or not. This was established at the meeting.” [15]

To be sure, Barry was not happy about the launching, but this was not because of who made the decision. While he did think the seas were too high, he was mainly upset his LCTs began launching at the command of the embarked Army unit leaders, and that he was bypassed in issuing those orders. Nevertheless he followed suit. The key fact here is that Barry’s statement corroborates the interpretation made earlier that Rockwell was not just attempting to have one decision-maker for the Army, but to place the sole decision responsibility on the Army. And while he failed in the former, he succeeded in removing the Navy from the process. Exactly as he advocated on 30 April.

Not a single Army person present recorded that meeting or left a record of its decision. The closest we have is a reference in the 17 July Action Report of the 741st Tank Battalion, and we can infer something from it. The 741st was the tank battalion landed by Assault Group O-1 and was aboard Barry’s LCTs. The Action Report stated:

“Capt. Thornton succeeded in contacting Capt. Young by radio and the two commanders discussed the advisability of launching the DD tanks, the sea being extremely rough, much rougher than the tanks had ever operated in during their preparatory training. Both commanders agreed that the advantages to be gained by the launching of the tanks justified the risk of launching the tanks in the heavy sea. Accordingly, orders were issued for the launching of the tanks at approximately H-50.” [16]

Although this paragraph does not mention the meeting in Portland, it described the decision process and responsibilities exactly in a manner that matches Barry’s report. These two sources in turn directly support the earlier interpretation of Rockwell’s report that he was attempting to shift the responsibility completely to the Army.

But none of Rockwell’s chain of command would ever see Barry’s report. In fact, neither Barry’s nor the reports of the other LCT officers-in-charge were official action reports, and none were submitted through chain of command to the Commander in Chief, United States Fleet, as required. Instead, they were kept in Rockwell’s personal papers for five decades. So there was nothing in the record to contradict Rockwell’s vague description of the meeting’s results. To further illustrate the seemingly self-serving and deceptive nature of Rockwell’s actions, we need look no further than the second-to-last paragraph of that report:

“It might be observed at this time that the action reports of all the officers-in-charge of “DD” LCTs in Force O-1 submitted to this command state that they were amazed when the order came to launch.”

This was blatantly false on two accounts. First, we only know that he had four of the eight reports by the time he wrote that. Two reports were undated and two were dated after he submitted his own report. Second, and more importantly, not a single report indicated amazement. Four reports noted that the sea was rough or too rough to launch, two reports indicated the sea had calmed and was not a problem, and two reports didn’t think the sea state was significant enough to even mention. Again, no indications of ‘amazement’. At all. Rockwell seems to have misrepresented the facts to make the case look more damning for those who would read his report. And by retaining these OIC reports in his personal files, his superiors would be unaware of the deceit.

LCDR William Leide was normally the commander of LCT Flotilla 12, and on D-Day commanded the LCTs of Assault Group O-2. In both roles, he was Rockwell’s immediate superior, and he was supposedly present at the meeting in Portland. Leide actually submitted two reports that touched on the DD tank issue. On 29 June he submitted his “Action Report, LCT O-2.” In this report he described Rockwell’s role in this manner:

“2. Lieutenant D. L Rockwell, USNR, in charge of the LCTs carrying the “DD” tanks, was aboard the LCT 535 and with Ensign A. J. Pellegrini, the Officer-in-Charge, made an important decision. The weather was too rough to permit launching, so the tanks were put on the beach, touchdown being made at H-1 minute.” [17]

Interestingly, this report did not mention the meeting in Portland Harbor, and contradicted both Rockwell’s and Barry’s versions. It actually gave all the credit for the decision to Rockwell and Pellegrini, a claim even Rockwell was not bold enough to make. And it was this not wholly accurate claim that would later lead to Rockwell’s Navy Cross as the Navy was looking for something positive to offset the debacle. And by shunning any mention of the Army role in the decision, Leide wrote CPT Elder out of the official version of events, ensuring his own subordinate, Rockwell, would receive all the credit. By the time Leide submitted this version of the events, CPT Ehmke had been killed and LTC Upham evacuated with wounds (both on D-Day). The last man who contradict Leide was Elder, but he was neck deep in combat and in no position to comment on the Navy’s evolving coverup; Elder, too, would be killed in action, two weeks later, and his voice was never heard on the matter. So there no one left in theater to contest Leide’s inaccuracies.

So, at this point, we have three completely different perspectives. Over in Assault Group O-1, Barry said it was solely the Army’s responsibility, which the sparse Army comments corroborate. In Rockwell’s report, he said he initiated the call that resulted in a joint Army-Navy decision. And in Leide’s version, it was solely the Navy’s—that is to say Rockwell’s—decision. But it was Leide’s statement put the initial spin on what was to become the official story, indicating the decision was solely a Navy responsibility—the exact opposite of Barry’s account. With Barry’s version blocked from getting into the record at the time, and the Army participants dead or unavailable, it resulted in a highly questionable version of events entering the record.

Leide’s second comment on the DD tank matter came as a 20 July endorsement to Rockwell’s report—and again, Leide signed his endorsement two days before Barry’s report was even submitted. This again makes it appear as if there was a conscious and coordinated effort to condemn Barry without letting him be heard. In his endorsement, Leide was now moved to make a stinging indictment of the DD tank program, a position he did not go on the record with before the D-Day debacle. He wrote:

“The notorious deficiencies of “DD” tanks in heavy seas were common knowledge. Meetings were held with all the officers-in-charge of “DD” tanks in Force “O”. It was unanimously agreed that any seas running, the tanks should be brought into the beach. Lieutenant Rockwell, who was Officer-in-Charge for all the training of the LCTs in this program, was specifically instructed that the “DD” tanks of “O-2” were to be brought into the beach. No doubt existed in his mind nor those of the officers-in-charge of what would take place in the event of rough weather. This report clearly shows that an attempt was made by Lieutenant Rockwell to obtain unanimity of action even though he was to lead only the LCTs of O-2 for the assault. It is our opinion that not only a senior army officer, but a senior naval officer should make the decision on launching based on weather conditions.” [18]

This is an exceptionally poorly written paragraph and it it difficult to understand his points. To begin with, in this context “officers-in-charge” is a Navy term for the officer responsible for a smaller craft—such as LCTs—which do not rate a commanding officer. But the full term he used was “the officers-in-charge of “DD” tanks”, which would seem to mean the Army tank officers, as the Navy OICs were in charge of LCTs, not the DD tanks. Assuming he was only referring to the Navy craft OICs, it begs the question of which OICs? He was in charge of the LCTs of O-2, so presumably these comments only apply to “all” eight DD/LCTs of O-2, and not those of O-1?

His next two sentences hammer the point home that Rockwell and the other OICs knew exactly what to do in a bad sea state, a claim obviously intended to imply Barry used bad judgement, without actually naming Barry. This a case of gilding the lilly, as it didn’t much matter whether the OIC knew to land the tanks in the case of bad sea; they would be operating under the commander of their division. Notably, Leide stated he only instructed Rockwell on this, omitting reference to Barry, even though Barry was present in at least one of these meetings. This reinforces the point that his instructions applied on to his O-2 DD/LCTs.

The crux of the matter was who was supposed to make the decision, which was not specified in the O-2 order that governed Leide, Rockwell and Elder. Leide pointedly did not mention what the meeting had to say about that, yet his comments here clearly put the ball in the Navy court. The fourth sentence endorses Rockwell’s attempt to obtain “unanimity of action” but fails to note he only sought that among Army units across both Assault Groups. He made no reference at all to any Navy role in a joint decision, and certainly did not propose a corresponding unanimity of action among the Navy units.

And his final sentence is again confusing. As written, it seems to be protesting that the decision had been made solely by the Army officers, and that a Navy officer should have been involved in the decision, apparently criticizing the O-1 decision without actually mentioning them. It is also a bit of disingenuous post-debacle whitewashing. If Leide felt that strongly about it being a joint decision, he should have gotten it written into the orders for his assault group, and the instructions he hammered into the OICs should have mentioned exactly that process. But he plainly did not do the first, and his stern instructions to the OICs mentioned nothing about obtaining a joint decision.

Looking past the confused rhetoric, Leide’s reports made just two points. 1) Success at O-2 was solely due to Rockwell’s judgement, which indirectly reflected credit on Leide as Rockwell’s boss and the man who wisely chose Rockwell for the job and instructed him as to the proper course of action. And 2) it sought to shift responsibility away from himself for the errors over in O-1 by presenting the case that he was smart enough to properly instruct Rockwell and the O-2 OICs, but Barry over in O-1 failed to heed Leide’s lead in O-2.

Whether you take Leide’s comments at face value or see them as self-serving statements, it misses the key point. Nowhere did Leide (or Rockwell, for that matter) clearly state what the agreed upon decision mechanism would be. And that is what caused the train to jump the tracks. While Leide’s last sentence—after the debacle—said it was his opinion the decision should have been a joint one, absolutely nothing in his (or, again, Rockwell’s) report indicate they clearly gave such instructions to anyone.

So the reports of Rockwell and Leide confuse rather than clarify. The result—whether intended or accidental—of this muddled discussion was to hang Barry out to dry. Rockwell was portrayed as following his instruction and landing the tanks; Barry was supposedly clear on those instructions, but failed follow suit. Although it was supposedly “unanimously agreed” and “No doubt existed in his mind nor those of the officers-in-charge,” yet somehow both Barry and the two Army company commanders in O-1 had a completely different view of how it was to play out.

So what really did happen in the Portland meeting? Frankly, we’ll never know. But the results of it are painfully clear. Based on the O-1 order, Barry and Thornton had clear directions to make a joint decision. But after the Portland meeting, they had been convinced to disobey that order and replace it with a unilateral Army decision, which—not so coincidentally—was the exact policy Duncan and Rockwell recommended five weeks earlier. Surely Barry and Thornton didn’t dream up this change themselves, which means they were following the outcome of the Portland meeting, at least as they understood the result of Rockwell’s wranglings. And since Rockwell and Leide made a point of highlighting their advocacy in that meeting(s), the logical conclusion is that they were primarily responsible for spawning the confusion that would cause the trainwreck. Whatever did happen in that meeting destroyed the single element of the DD/LCT plans that was reasonably clear (the footnote in the O-1 plan), resulting in the worst possible outcome. And the fact that none of the reports from O-1 made it into Rockwell’s and Leide’s reports, or any official record, is significant if not actually damning.

I’ve taken pains to carefully parse the various documents pertaining to the DD/LCT orders and instructions, and I’ve done this for two reasons. First, in the wake of a debacle, it is an all too common human impulse for participants to try to make it clear they had no responsibility for what happened, and ‘if only they had been listened to, the tragedy would have been avoided.’ And just as frequently, those who rush to establish their innocence in this manner are the ones who were largely culpable. So the comments of Rockwell and Leide require very close examination to determine exactly what they did say, what they left out, and what can be verified from other sources. Rockwell’s and Leide’s reports do not come off well in such an examination due to their vague and conflicting perspectives, as well as the key points they omit. Barry’s simple and direct statement, backed by the 741st Tank Battalion’s after action report’s comments, appears much more believable.

The second reason for this parsing goes to the human need to project order on a confusing situation. The planning for the DD/LCTs was vague and disjointed, and this was further confused by the equally vague and contradictory comments by Rockwell and Leide. So a partial fact applying to one unit is naturally seized by analysts and extrapolated to apply to throughout the units involved, when in fact there is no basis for that. Or the analyst seeking to make sense of ill-worded statements might interpret them to corroborate each other, because that would seemingly establish consistency and order where in fact there was none. My objective has been to avoid assumptions which cannot be clearly supported by a close examination of what was said, what was accurate and what was left unsaid. I think this approach provides a better perspective, as it avoids the trap of becoming prisoner to one’s own assumptions, hastily made at the outset of analysis. While I do offer my conclusions, the primary goal is to provide the reader all the pertinent information for his or her own conclusions.

Lax Command, Doubtful Control, and No Communications

The final aspect of this comedy of errors was one Rockwell and Leide pointedly ignored in their reports. That was communications. Although all the LCTs had been equipped with radios when they arrived in the UK, the naval orders imposed radio silence, so how would Rockwell take part in any decision or pass orders to his LCTs? While Hall’s order did note he could grant exceptions, Rockwell made it clear he was not authorized to use his radios before the first landing, a point he stressed in his oral history. So Rockwell was obviously not the beneficiary of Hall’s exceptions. Similarly, the Army had also imposed radio silence. Annex 15, Signal Communications Plan, of the 1st Infantry Division order [19] stated:

“3.x.(2) Silence may be broken in the assault phase as follows: . . .

“(b) By leading Army assault units on contact with the enemy.”

Normally, the senior Army and Navy officers in a wave would be located in the same craft, so coordination between the two would merely be a matter of face to face discussion. But another disconnect in planning had resulted in none of these leaders being in collocated in either Assault Group O-1 or O-2 (an error we’ll cover in detail in another installment). So all the wrangling over who would decide what for which element was rather pointless without a means to communicate. Although Rockwell in his report said he contacted Elder by tank radio, which indeed happened, that decision to break radio silence was taken under the pressure of the imminent landing, whereas breaking radio silence contrary to orders was not likely to be a planning assumption during the Portland meeting.

This simple matter of communications, and the fact that the key Army and Navy commanders were not collocated, puts the lie to the post-operation inventions contained in Rockwell’s and Leide’s reports. In fact, the mere idea that one officer could decide for both battalions and convey that decision to the tankers, in the absence of radio communications, was preposterous considering the distance there would be between the LCTs of the two assault groups. And it would be equally preposterous to assume one Navy counterpart would be able to make a corresponding decision and confer with his Army counterpart under those same circumstances.

As noted earlier, the Army neither commented on nor even acknowledged such a meeting at Portland. Their silence on the topic at least had the benefit of not trotting out rather transparent self-serving excuses. But to be clear, the Army’s skirts were not clean in this process. The operations order for the 741st Tank Battalion (Field Order #1, 21 May 1944) did not address the launch or land question at all. Neither, as far as I can tell, did the order for the 743rd Tank Battalion. Nor did the operations orders for the 3rd Armored Group, the 1st Infantry Division or the Vth Corps. And in this vacuum of guidance, the Army battalion commanders may have been at a loss for guidance when they were confronted by Rockwell’s proposal at the Portland meeting. Regardless, they bear a large part of the responsibility for accepting the sole decision-making role without Navy input.

For those unfamiliar with operational planning, subordinate units are very often authorized to directly deal with each other to coordinate aspects that require cooperation or interaction (the well known ‘direct liaison authorized’, or DIRLAUTH). If fact this kind of direct coordination is usually necessary in any order. But the nature of this supposed meeting at Portland certainly fell well outside that category. For one thing, its object was not merely coordination, rather it appears to have been a conspiring to induce personnel assigned to Assault Group O-1 to disobey provisions of the Assault Group O-1 order. More importantly, there was no consensus on anything that resulted from the meeting, and nothing recorded during it. At best, this was a shoddy example of staff work.

By degrees, RADM Hall’s planning and orders process had resulted in the almost the exact situation Bradley had said was unacceptable: the decision to launch or land had been successively delegated to the lowest level. Not only that, but a close examination of the actual events will show that the decision was left to the Army, a point the later Navy reports would seek to cloud. Certainly, Bradley and the Army chain of command were partly at fault, leaving the matter too much in the Navy’s unwilling hands and not advocating strongly enough for its own interests. But in the final analysis, the largest share of the blame must rest on the shoulders of RADM Hall for his unwillingness to be appropriately involved with the DD ‘gimmicks’ and for his failure to ensure the orders he and his subordinates issued were clear, consistent and properly supervised during execution. He was, after all, the only one of the five assault force commanders who lost control of of his DD tanks on D-Day.

A Shore Too Far

One last point needs to be made regarding the various orders before we move on.  In their 30 April reports, both Rockwell and Duncan recommended that the DD tanks be launched no more than 4,000 yards offshore.  That caution was initially seconded by the chain of command.

During Exercise Tiger, the pre-invasion rehearsal for Utah, MG Collins (commanding the VII Corps at Utah Beach) was concerned enough to want to see for himself how the DD tanks handled:

“To check their operation during one of our Slapton Sands exercises I put off in a small boat from our command ship Bayfield with our G-3 and went forward with the line of LCTs (landing craft, tank) carrying the DDs of the 70th Tank Battalion, attached to the 4th Division. Good-sized waves were pitching the LCTs about as we approached the shore and lowered the gangplanks to put off the DDs. From close alongside I watched the tanks drive off the ends of the gangplanks, their canvas collars barely avoiding gulps of water as they plunged overboard. Once the DDs settled down they rode very well. But I decided that I would insist that the Navy take the LCTs with our DDs as close to shore as possible on D day before dumping them off, a provision that proved both a lifesaver and a DD saver on D day.”[20]

Bradley, too, was concerned about their seaworthiness; although the seas were acceptable when the DD tanks were launched during Exercise Tiger, by the end of the day, the waves were disturbingly white-capped.[21] 

When Exercise Fabius I (the rehearsal for the Omaha landings) took place during the first week of May, the DD tanks of both the 741st and 743rd Tank Battalions were launched just 3,000 yards off the beach at Slapton Sands.  (Their role in the exercise was limited, as they did not leave the water’s edge, and soon moved off to their base in the adjacent village of Torcross.[22]) 

So, it would appear all due caution would be heeded in launching the DD tanks.  It is surprising, then, that the Navy—which doubted the seaworthiness of DD tanks—elected to launch them from much farther away.  Kirk’s WNTF order specified the DD tanks would be launched 6,000 yards offshore, which was actually 2,000 yards farther offshore than the line of departure.[23]  Hall’s order also specified 6,000 yards.  The British beaches proposed even farther out, with instructions for Sword and Gold Beaches that DD tanks be launched at 7,000 yards.[24]  It isn’t clear what drove these Assault Force Commanders to extend the launching distances.  As far as can be told, Ramsay’s order did not mention the topic at all. Of course on D-Day, the relevant British officers used their own judgement whether to adhere to the 7,000 yard guidance.

In a later installment we’ll briefly review the success or failure of the DD tanks on the other beaches to see what impact these extended launching distances may have had.  For now it suffices to note that Hall, who was a skeptic on the viability of DD tanks, acquiesced in the decision to launch at twice the distance used during the Fabius I rehearsal, and at a distance 50% greater than Rockwell and Duncan recommended as the upper limit.  For a man who doubted the practicality of the ‘gimmick’, his indifference to the project seems to have done more to harm than help their chances.

Acknowledgements.

While researching this Omaha Beach Series, I have come in contact with several excellent researchers, and as good researchers do, we shared our finds. In the case of this DD Tank series, I owe a tremendous debt to Patrick Ungashick whom I stumbled upon while we were both delving into the subject. Patrick had managed to dig up a trove of Lt. Dean Rockwell’s personal papers which Rockwell had provided to Steven Ambrose. Any serious study of the DD tanks question must include these Rockwell papers, and I would have been lost without them. My sincere gratitude to him. Patrick has a book coming out this June which uses WWII case studies as a teaching vehicle for management decision making. One of those case studies focuses on, of course, the DD tanks at Omaha Beach. Patrick and I take somewhat different approaches to our analyses, and our conclusions are somewhat different, but I wholeheartedly recommend his upcoming book: A Day for Leadership; Business Insights for Today’s Executives and Teams from the D-Day Battle, or one of his other fine books. Thanks, Patrick!

FOOTNOTES

[1] For a discussion of Hall’s career up to his assignment to the European Theater of Operations, see Susan Godson’s Viking of Assault, Admiral John Lesslie Hall, Jr., and Amphibious Warfare.  University Press of America, Washington, DC, 1982

[2] For a discussion of Hall’s attitude to his superiors, see Christopher Yung’s Gators of Neptune; Naval Amphibious Planning for the Normandy Invasion.  Naval Institute Press, Annapolis, MD, 2006.  For his opinion of Kirk, Eisenhower and Ramay, see pp13-14.  For his opinion regarding a separate command for Utah beach, see pg. 86-87.  In turn, Ramsay’s opinion of Hall was little better, pg 87.

[3] Hall’s second endorsement (dtd 22 Sept 1944) to Commander, Group 35’s memorandum, subj: Launching “DD” Tanks on D-Day, NEPTUNE Operation, dtd 14 July 1944.

[4] Yung, pp 180-182.

[5] Rockwell was promoted at some date between this 30 April report and his subsequent 14 July report on the landings.

[6] Memorandum For:  Commander, ELEVENTH Amphibious Force.  Subj:  Results of Training, Tests and Tactical Operations of DD Tanks at Slapton Sands, Devon, England, during the period 15 March – 30 April 1944, dated 30 April 1944, para 8(b).  RG407, Entry 427d, NARA.

[7] Letter to:  Commander ELEVENTH Amphibious Force, Subj:  DD LCT Operations, Evaluation and Results of, dated 30 April 1944, para 3(e). RG407, Entry 427d, NARA.

[8] Headquarters, First U. S. Army letter to Naval Commander, Western Task Force, subj: Launching of DD Tanks, dtd 17 March 1944. This letter reference an earlier letter on the same subject which was dated 24 April 1944. [RG407, Entry 427d, NARA] In this context the “Navy Task Force Commander” refers to RADM Hall and RADM Moon (at Utah Beach), who were the counterparts to the two Army Corps Commanders.

[9] Headquarters, V Corps Staff Routing Slip, Subject: DD Tank Training ‘O’ Operations, dtd. 15 May 1944, note 2, from G-3.  RG402, Entry 427D, NARA.

[10] Kirk’s WNTF Operation Plan No. 2-44 was issued on 21 April 1944. Apparently the lack of guidance in that order regarding DD tanks rang an alarm within the First U.S. Army. Three days later, Bradley sent a letter to Kirk with the subject “Launching of DD Tanks”. Although that letter is not available, we know it was sent because it was referenced in Bradley’s 17 May 1944 letter of the same subject. Because that 24 April letter is missing, Bradley’s specific concerns at that earlier date are not known. But it indicates concern with the general matter as early as a week before Duncan and Rockwell sent in their reports on training.

Commander Task Group 125.5, subj:  Action Report, Operation Order BB 3-44 of Assault Force “U”, Western Naval Task Force, Allied Naval expeditionary Force, dtd 12 July 1944.  In the event, the decision at Utah was changed by the deputy assault group commander to compensate for the late arrival of the LCTs carrying the DD tanks.

[11] Eleventh Amphibious Force (TASK FORCE ONE TWO FOUR) Operation Order No. BB-44, dtd 20 May 1944. [RG38, Entry A1-352, Box 197, NARA]

[12] ComTransDiv 1, Operation Order 3-44, dtd 29 May 1944. [RG38, Entry A1-352, Box 318, NARA] Several titles were typically used for naval units, and they can be confusing to the uninitiated.  Transportation Division 1 was a unit of attack transport ships, and for this operation became the headquarters around which Assault Group O-1 was formed, and that assault group’s designation within the task force structure was TF 124.3.  Similarly, Hall’s ELEVENTH Amphibious Force was the headquarters around which Assault Force Omaha was built, and it had the task force designation TF 122. 

[13] ComTransDiv 3, Operation Order N0. 4-44, dtd 27 May 1944. [RG38, Entry A1-352, Box 318, NARA]

[14] Commander, Group 35 memorandum, subj: Launching “DD” Tanks on D-Day, NEPTUNE Operation, dtd 14 July 1944. As with most US Navy reports, it originally read NEPTUNE Operation, but NEPTUNE was redacted and replaced by a hand written “N. France”, apparently to maintain secrecy of the NEPTUNE code word.

[15] This is a handwritten two page document subj: Action Report “DD” Tanks, dtd 22 July 1944 and addressed to Lt. Rockwell. It was included in Rockwell’s personal files which he provided to Steven Ambrose, and which Patrick Ungashick obtained and was kind enough to share with me. This document and the rest of the LCT OICs’ reports can be found in the Robert Rowe collection at Carlisle Barracks.

[16] Headquarters, 741st Tank Battalion memorandum to the Adjutant General, U. S. Army, subj: Action Against Enemy/After Action Report, dtd 19 [illegible, believed to be’ July’) 1944. Available online from the Combined Arms Research Library, Fort Leavenworth, KS. https://cgsc.contentdm.oclc.org/digital/collection/p4013coll8/id/3512/

[17] Commander, LCT-6 Flotillas 12 and 26, memorandum to Commander in Chief, United States Fleet, subj: Action Report, LCT “O-2,” dtd 29 June 1944.

[18] Leide’s first endorsement endorsement (dtd 20 July 1944) to Commander, Group 35’s memorandum, subj: Launching “DD” Tanks on D-Day, NEPTUNE Operation, dtd 14 July 1944.

[19] Headquarters, 1st U. S. Infantry Division, Field Order No. 35, Force “O”, w/changes, dtd 16 April 1944. Available at the First Division Museum at Cantigny digital archives. https://firstdivisionmuseum.nmtvault.com/jsp/PsImageViewer.jsp?doc_id=5d51b39f-52d3-4177-b65e-30b812011812%2Fiwfd0000%2F20141124%2F00000201

[20] Collins, J. L,. (1979) Lightning Joe: An Autobiography. Plunkett Lake Press. Kindle Edition, pg. 257.

[21] Bradley, O., (1999) A Soldier’s Story.  Penguin Random House, pg. 270.

[22] Jones, C., (1946) The Administrative and Logistical History of the ETO, Part VI, NEPTUNE: Training, Mounting, The Artificial Ports,” Historical Division, United States Army Forces, European Theater, Pg 269.

[23] WNTF Operation Plan No. 2-44, Appendix 2 to Annex G, dtd 21 April 1944

[24] Instructions for Juno DD tanks were contained in Joint Operating Instructions No. 32, Conduct of DD Tanks, which is missing from the archives.

The Duplex Drive Tanks of Omaha Beach, Part (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 tanks 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 mistakenly 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 Lieutenant (Junior Grade) (Lt.(jg)) 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 Battalions 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 struck 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.