Omaha Bombardment. Part IIIa: After Action Summaries

Introduction

Part III of this series analyzed the effectiveness of the pre-H-Hour bombardment at the Omaha Assault area, and generally summarized key details as they applied to the topic. Space precluded including a more complete accounting of the activities of the ships of the bombardment group. While that was necessary, it also omitted many smaller details which complete the picture of a bombardment that was indifferently prosecuted.

In the following paragraphs I have summarized the the various reports submitted by the ships of the bombardment group, highlighting the relevant portions as they pertain to the pre-H-Hour bombardment. If you have the time and interest in the bombardment, I recommend these paragraphs for your review.

As I mentioned, these paragraph, as with this entire Bombardment Series, focus only on the pre-H-Hour bombardment and it effectiveness in neutralizing the beach defenses. There is much more to the story of the ships of the bombardment group on D-Day and the following weeks. But that has been more than adequately covered by historians, whereas the initial bombardment had been virtually ignored.

Western Fire Support Group‍ ‍

USS Texas, BB34‍

USS Texas, March 1943

Sources: 

-          Commanding Officer, USS Texas, Action Report for Period 3-17 June, 1944, Operation Neptune, dtd 28 June 1944

-          Commanding Officer, USS Texas, Chronological Narrative of Operations of U.S.S Texas for Period 3 June 1944 to 17 June 1944, inclusive, Operation Neptune, dtd 23 June 1944

-          USS Texas, War Diary, June 1944

Position:  Bearing about 030° from Pointe du Hoc, range about 13,000 yards.

The Texas was first tasked to neutralize the guns at Pointe du Hoc (WN75) with “up to 250 rounds” of 14-inch gunfire and ended up actually firing 255 rounds. 

Unfortunately, though the Texas wasn’t aware of it, the guns had been removed, and those 255 rounds did little more than “bounce the rubble,” as Steven Zaloga so aptly phrased it in The Devils Garden.  In reality, that massive shelling should also have stunned the garrison to the point the Rangers would have had an easy job.  But synchronization had fallen apart.  The Ranger boats were mistakenly led towards Pointe et Raz de la Percée, and by the time they had cleared up the confusion and reached their landing beach, they had lost a third of their LC(A)s and 40 minutes.  Any neutralization effects were largely overcome by the time the Rangers stepped off their craft and grabbed the ropes.

Despite the desperate fight the Rangers encountered as they scaled the cliffs, Texas’ action report claimed:

“Any personnel in the area must certainly have been killed.”[1]‍ ‍

It was a very unfortunate comment, but a perfect example of gunners being overly impressed by the big explosions they cause.  And once again we see clear evidence of a total lack of control over the bombardment force.  Some of the destroyers in the area were aware of the mix-up and the delay, and helped suppress German positions as the delayed Ranger flotilla passed too close inshore as they sought Point du Hoc.  Yet these were individual actions of initiative, and no one on the Texas had the situational awareness to restart neutralization fires on Pointe du Hoc itself as the Rangers belatedly approached their beach.  As a result the defenders would have 45 minutes to pull themselves together before the Rangers landed.

In his after action report, Hall tried to put the best face on the episode, stating:

“It later developed that four of the guns had been moved and emplaced in a hedge lane about a mile south.  This new position was bombarded and knocked out by Texas using airspot during the morning of D-Day.”[2]‍ ‍

Unfortunately, the only fire mission he could have been referring to (at 1033 hours) was too far south for the Pointe du Hoc’s relocated guns, but may have produced the very useful effect of silencing one of the 352d Division’s 155mm field artillery batteries (the Texas’ spotting aircraft did report it as a mobile field battery).

We’ll leave off the action at Pointe du Hoc and move to the Texas’ other missions.  At H-04, the Texas was to shift fires from the Pointe and place 12 rounds of 14-inch on two adjacent targets, T88 and T89, about a kilometer west of the point. That had also been Satterlee’s target for the previous half hour, and I’ll defer further comment on that objective until I get to that ship.

Texas’ final Pre-H-Hour mission was target T72 (WN73), which it was supposed to hit with 250 rounds from its 5-inch battery, from 0550 to 0623 hours.  It reported it fired for the full period, but expended only 190 rounds (91 HC and 99 Common).  This began a trend in which all ships firing at this key position failed to fire the full planned bombardment. At 13,500 yards to target T72, this was at the higher end of the 5-inch gun’s range, and it’s accuracy may have been less than desired, especially firing from casemate mounts with spotting from the foretop (rather than air spot).  In addition, at that range the projectiles would have lost about 60% of their velocity.  The secondary battery ceased fire at the planned time (0623 hours) rather than synchronized with the leading wave, probably because at that range it was impossible to observe the position of the leading waves.

Figure 1. Bombardment Group ship positions during the pre-H-Hour bombardment. [Yellow pins: position located by range and bearing from a specified point. Green Pins: positions generally located by range from a specified point, but no bearing. Red pins: no firm data on position.]

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HMS Glasgow, C21‍

HMS Glasgow

Source:  Commanding Officer, HMSGlasgow (C21), Operation Neptune – Chronological Narrative Report, dtd 22 June 1944. 

Position:  Laid own dan buoy in bombardment position: 49° 27’ 02” N, 00° 52’ 00” W.

Glasgow, along with the Arkansas, was slated to bombard the defenses of the D-3 exit.  Glasgow was tasked with neutralizing targets T59 and T61, which were up on the bluffs on the east side of the draw (WN67).  These defenses were generally west-facing to cover the draw, which meant Glasgow, firing from the western fire support lane, would have a good angle relative to the orientation of the key gun positions within its targets.

Unfortunately, Glasgow seems to have been infected with the same miserly attitude toward expending ammunition as had so many other ships.  It was allotted 400 rounds but fired only 219.  It started its bombardment at 0554 hours, but did not report when it ceased fire, so we can’t tell how well it synchronized its cease fire with the approach of the first waves.  It did state that at 0630 hours, it shifted fire to a ‘strongpoint’, giving a coordinate that placed it in the center of Vierville sur Mer. That engagement was not part of the bombardment plan, but might have been as a result of something the airspot observed.  

Glasgow’s report stated it opened fire on its assigned pre-H-Hour target (singular), when it was actually assigned two targets.  Fortunately, its Summary of Engagements (Enclosure 2 to its report) shows it did fire at two targets during this mission, and included grids coordinates correctly which matched coordinates for both T59 and T61.  So although only 55% of its planned projectiles, it seems to have hit both of its targets, though we have no indication how evenly the projectiles were distributed between the two.

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USS Satterlee, DD626

Sources:

USS Satterlee, September 1943

-          Commanding Officer, USS Satterlee, Report of Action, 6 June 1944, dtd 21 June 1944

-          USS Satterlee, War Diary, June 1944

Position:  About 3,000 yards bearing 185°T to Pointe du Hoc at a range of 3,000 yards. 

Satterlee was tasked to fire 300 rounds at targets T88 and T89 (also known as WN76).  In the previous post I pointed out that this was a curious target set as intelligence had only indicated there was a squad-sized element there, and it was difficult to see how it was significant enough to interfere with the landings or merit 300 rounds of scarce ammunition.   In fact, the position’s main ‘weapon’ was a 150cm searchlight, which posed no threat at all for a daylight assault.[3]  The position was also defended by two machine guns, but at a range of 1000 meters from Pointe du Hoc, they could not seriously interfere with the landing there.  In short, there was no reason to waste the firepower of an entire destroyer on this position, and certainly not during the critical pre-H-Hour bombardment.

Nevertheless, the Satterlee faithfully fired on the position from 0548 to 0645 hours (the mission was intended to extend past H-Hour by 15 minutes).  This mission was interrupted by the need to shoot a defensive counterbattery mission between 0618 and 0627 hours against light guns in the vicinity of the point.  Presumably these were to the east of the Pointe as the only ‘guns’ nearby to the west were wooden dummies, mounted in a fake battery position designed to draw fire away from the position on the point. 

Satterlee did not report  how many of the allotted 300 rounds it expended, but as it was one of only two fire support ships to fully expend its allotted 70% of rounds on D-Day, it’s not a stretch to assume it fired all 300.  One incident needs to be mentioned, although it did not take place during the pre-H-Hour bombardment. Satterlee recognized the need to suppress the Pointe du Hoc defenses as the delayed Ranger assault went in, and took the initiative to shell the area.  She was prompted to this action after observing enemy troops assembling on the cliff to repel the assault—presumably the same enemy troops the Texas thought “must certainly have been killed.”  Satterlee closed to within 1500 yards of the Pointe and fired with both its 5-inch guns and “heavy machine guns” (40mm and/or 20mm auto cannons?).

But this brings up another problem.  Aboard Satterlee was the deputy squadron commander for Destroyer Squadron 18, and since the squadron commander had been detailed off to set up the offshore screen, his deputy was in temporary command of the destroyers.  While Satterlee correctly took the initiative to shell Pointe du Hoc as the Ranger’s belatedly arrived, it took no steps to coordinate support for the Rangers with other destroyers.  Most of the ships had responded to one degree or another (suppressing German positions firing on the Ranger convoy as passed too close to the shore) but it was not coordinated and there was no effort to contact Texas to see if the 14-inch guns could fire a few more salvos.  At that phase of the morning (0630-0715 hours) DESRON18 was more of a collection of independently operating ships than a coordinated tactical squadron.

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HMS Talybont, L18

HMS Talybont

Source:  Commanding Officer, HMS Talybont, Report on Assault Bombardment, HMS Talybont, dtd 24 June 1944.

Position:  Bearing 038° from Pointe du Hoc at a range of 2.7 miles.

At 0550, Talybont opened fire on targets T82 and T83, from a range of 4,000 yards.  The targets covered an unnamed intermediate German position on the cliffs north of Hameau Lefevre.  It was defended only by small arms and was 1 ½-2 kilometers from Pointe Du Hoc.  At 0615, Talybont shifted fire to its second set of targets, T77 and T76.  This covered a radar installation jointly operated by the Luftwaffe and Kriegsmarine, and was designated WN74a (some sources refer to it as WN75).  The site had been heavily bombed in the predawn hours by the RAF, and by the time the pre-landing naval bombardment commenced, the presence of the fleet had mooted the usefulness of the radars, if they survived to that point.  Defended by small arms and a single mortar, it posed no immediate threat to the landings.

The 400 rounds the Talybont expended on these four targets accomplished absolutely nothing as far as the two objectives of the pre-Hour bombardment were concerned.  Talybont’s first concrete contribution to the invasion came after H-Hour when it helped suppress German small arms positions on the cliffs that had engaged the Ranger craft which had come too close to shore after becoming lost.

Talybont did not record its ammunition expenditure for this phase, although I suspect it was far below the specified amount, for no other reason that the ship had to re-engage all four of its targets after H-Hour to suppress further fire. 

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USS Thompson, DD627

USS Thompson, May 1943

Sources:  Commanding Officer, USS Thompson, Chronological Narrative of Operations, Report Of, dtd 26 June 1944.

Position:  Bearing 180°T to Pointe et Raz de la Percée at a range of 2,200 yards.

From 0550 until 0715 hours, Thompson was ordered to fire 450 rounds at targets T74 and T75, which were the south and north portions of WN74 at Pointe et Raz de la Percée.  The high number of rounds allotted reflected the fact that these targets were to be shelled for an hour and twenty minutes.  But once again, only one of those two targets addressed a pre-H-Hour bombardment task.  T74 included two 80mm field cannons (identified as 75mm in some sources) enfilading the Charlie and Dog beach sectors and did require neutralization.  But T75 consisted of the site’s general defensive positions that should have been fired on at least an hour later, when the Rangers of Company C, 2nd Battalion might have been in position to assault the defenses.

At 0550 hours, Thompson elected to fire first at T74 (the gun positions) expending 107 rounds (55 common and 52 AA) and declared the position “apparently destroyed” at 0620 hours.  It then shifted fire to T75, firing just 56 rounds (26 common and 30 AA) over the next 50 minutes.  In total, it expended just 163 rounds (36%) of the allotted 450 against these two.  By ceasing fire on the two guns 10 minutes before H-Hour, Thompson gave the crews time to recover, man their guns and open fire on the leading wave, or shortly thereafter.  Thompson’s continued firing at T75 had resulted in a cloud of obscuring dust, which forced a cease fire between 0646 and 0700 hours.  It isn’t known how long the two 80mm guns had been back in action (perhaps hidden by the dust from target T75)  but at 0716 hours Thompson observed a field gun firing on the beachhead, and gave coordinates that matched T74—the target the ship had already declared “destroyed.”  Thompson re-engaged T74, firing another 106 rounds over the next 40 minutes (60 common, 46 AA).   It was a false economy to conserve the 267 rounds left unfired, just to have to fire them afterwards to silence the position that should have been neutralized before it had a chance to shell the troops ashore. 

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USS McCook, DD496‍

Sources:

USS McCook, 1943

-          Commanding Officer, USS McCook, Shore Bombardment off the Coast of Normandy – Report of, dtd 13 July 1994

-          USS McCook, War Diary, Month of June 1944‍

Position:  3200 yards off of beach at Vierville sur Mer (no bearing stated).

This ship was allotted 300 rounds to shell target T71 from 0550 to 0625 hours.  The coordinates for T71 would place the mean point of impact almost exactly on the newly built casemate that housed the 88m gun in WN72, with part of the pattern of impacts spilling over into the edges of WN73 and WN 71.  McCook’s action report indicated it was assigned three targets, though none of the three orders governing the bombardment reflect this.[4]  The captain decided shell the first two targets (unidentified) and reported they had been neutralized in 10 minutes, but it isn’t clear how he judged the defender’s status.  

He shifted fire to his third target at 0600 hours and at this point the reports become unclear and contradictory.  According to the war diary, 0603 hours the ship took two near misses from a shore battery (105mm or 155mm) followed by another one minute later.  Apparently, McCook ceased fire with its 5-inch battery about this time to maneuver to avoid the shelling, though it does not mention maneuvering at this point.  At 0606 hours both sources recap its ammunition expenditure to that point (220 rounds in rapid continuous fire, seemingly indicating it had ceased fire.  This cease fire seems to be confirmed as neither report goes on to mention the 5-inch battery ceasing fire later.  At 0615 hours McCook tried to engage an unidentified target with its automatic weapons (40mm and 20mm?) but ceased their fire one minute later due to excessive range. 

Although McCook did fire 220 rounds in ‘rapid continuous fire’ as neutralization required (and as so few of the other ships managed to do) there are serious questions about its bombardment.  What were the two additional targets it fired on during the pre-H-Hour bombardment and did they contribute to the beach neutralization mission?  Did the rounds fired at the other two targets spare the 88mm gun’s casemate much needed pounding?  And when exactly did it cease firing with its 5-inch battery?  Was it at 0606 hours?  Or 0616 hours?  In either case it would have been premature as far as synchronization was concerned, but 0606 would have had much worse consequences. 

After ceasing fire with its automatic weapons at 0616 hours (and possibly with its 5-inch battery as well?), McCook shifted fire to an unidentified target of opportunity on which it expended 100 more rounds by 0642 hours.  McCook reported the first troops (as distinct from tanks) hit the beach in that sector late, at 0638 hours, meaning the defenders had 22 to 32 minutes to recover from the effects of the shelling depending on when the ship ceased fire.  (However, the leading wave of tanks was landed at 0630 hours, so the breakdown in synchronization was a combination of McCook’s premature cease fire and the landing craft arriving late.) 

In addition to failing to fire at least 80 of its allotted 300 rounds at T71 (that number may actually be far higher depending on where its other two ‘assigned’ targets actually were), it markedly failed to pace its final high rate of firing to the progress of the leaning landing craft.

To recap the bombardment here at the defenses of the D-1 exit, recall the Texas fired only 200 of its allotted 250 5-inch rounds, and the Thompson fired only 220.  Where there should have been 550 rounds impacting, there were only 420, and that assumes all of Thompson’s extra ‘assigned targets’ were anywhere near T71.  This situation would be compounded when two of the LCG(L)s slated to fire there failed to arrive, and the third fired only about half its rounds.  Instead of 910 rounds, only 486 rounds were fired.

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USS Carmick, DD493‍

USS Carmick, December 1942

Source:  Commanding Officer USS Carmick, Action Report, Forwarding of, dtd 1 July 1944

Position:  Bearing 19°T from Pointe et Raz de la Percée, range 3,500 yards

The Carmick was assigned three targets, T66, T67 and T68 (WN70, at Hamel-au-Pretet) and 250 rounds for the job, to be fired in the familiar 0550-0625 timeframe.  All three targets lay within an area of 300 by 200 yards and could be covered with minimal shifting of aimpoints A destroyer’s standard bombardment pattern was 200 by 200 yards).  Its action report stated it began firing on time at targets T67 and T68.  While firing, it was fired on by a gun in that area, which Carmick, with the aid of another destroyer,[5] silenced, at least temporarily.  When it was time to shift to the third target, dust was so thick it could not be seen, so it continued firing at T67 and T68 until end of ammunition and mission time.

Carmick probably made the most concrete contribution of all the fire support ships covered so far by knocking out the 80mm field gun sited in WN70.  That gun was in a field emplacement (its concrete casemate was still under construction) and facing generally west along the beach to cover the D-1 exit.  This was one of the few cases during the bombardment when the ship and the field gun were generally facing one another, giving the ship a favorable gun-target line, and resulted in that gun being put out of action (at least temporarily).  As the gun was not in a concrete casement, this is not a perfect example of the previous discussion of needing to engaging a hardened from the correct angle, but it serves to illustrate the advantage of proper ship positioning, even against field works. 

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Eastern Fire Support Group

USS Arkansas, BB33

USS Arkansas, April 1944

Sources:

-          Commanding Officer, USS Arkansas (BB33),  Report of Operations, June 3-18 June 1944, dtd 26 June 1944. 

-          USS Arkansas, War Diary for June 1944, dtd 21 July 1944.

Position:  About 3 miles off Port-en-Bessin, grid coordinates:  738943.

There were high hopes for the twelve big guns of the Arkansas.  They would fire on targets T60, T63 and T65 with 350 rounds of 12-inch projectiles.  These targets included all three resistances nests defending the D-3 exit (WN66, -67 and -68), with excellent angles against the large guns in WN68.  The chances of quickly opening the exit were pinned on those big guns . . . as long as the large shells didn’t crater the roadway too badly.

Having been briefly distracted by the necessary counterbattery fire against Port-en-Bessin, Arkansas’ main battery opened fire on its assigned targets at 0552 hours.  It ceased fire at 0623 hours, noting that the airspot had observed smoke and fires (but did not state that this smoke prevented firing).  After 30 minutes of firing its main battery, Arkansas’ expenditure of 12-inch ammunition was just 70 rounds (56 HC and 14 AP).  That was roughly only 18% of the expected support the ground troops had been counting on.  It isn’t at all clear why this happened.  The ship was anchored, had good firing data and was in a stable position.  And there were orders from both Admiral Ramsay and Rear Admiral Bryant to keep firing using the best data on hand in case of obstructed view.  Nor does it seem firing was interrupted or halted due to smoke.  That would seem to point to problems with fire control or the proficiency of the gun crews, but there was no mention of problems with either of those.  Regardless, 70 rounds would account for only five salvos—not counting rounds needed for ranging—which would take just five minutes of firing at a slow rate and just two-three minutes at a high rate of fire.

Something is missing here; the Arkansas seems to have been hardly used its main battery.  The only explanation I can think of is the ship kept the majority of its turrets free and aimed at Port-en-Bessin just in case those batteries came back to life.  

Another question is:  which target the ship fired on?  It was assigned three, and with two gun directors for the guns of its main battery, could theoretically have engaged two targets at a time.  But its reports fail to mention which target(s) it actually engaged, merely stating it opened fire on prearranged targets.  The ship fired such a small percentage of its allotted rounds that it is fair to ask, did Arkansas fire all 70 rounds at one target? Or attempt to spread the projectiles across all three targets (only about 30 projectiles per target)? Either way, it is almost certain the bombardment at the D-3 exit was ineffective.

All in all, it was a sorry showing at the D-3 draw.  Not only did Arkansas fire a mere 70 rounds of 12-inch projectiles out of a planned 385, but as we saw earlier in this piece, Glasgow fired only 219 6-inch projectiles of a planned 400 at the same exit.  The failure these two big ships to fire those 496 shells must sure have contributed to the defenses of the D-3 Draw being the last to fall on D-Day.

The Arkansas’ secondary (5-inch) battery was due to fire at the E-3 draw during the pre-H-Hour bombardment, but the ship instead left it engaging in counterbattery fire against Port-en-Bessin, so its 5-inch guns contributed nothing to the beach neutralization mission.  The Arkansas’ contribution to the pre-H-Hour bombardment was largely wasted.  Even when it engaged its tertiary battery’s 3-inch guns (which were not specifically addressed in the bombardment plan), it chose to direct them at Ste. Honorine (vicinity of WN59) instead of any of the beach defenses. 

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HMS Tanatside, L69‍

HMS Tanatside

Source:  Commanding Officer, HMS Tanatside, Operation “Neptune” – Report on Bombardment – A.M. 6th June, 1944 (D_Day), dtd 26 June 1944. 

Position: At 0545 Hours, bearing 355° from Port-en-Bessin, range 4.1 miles, and a range of 10,000 yards to the targets.  Ship continued to close on targets until approximately 0621 hours when its range to target was 6,000 yards.

Tanatside was perhaps the only ship on the eastern side of Omaha that did not join the free-for-all against the Port-en-Bessin batteries before the bombardment period commenced.  I suspect this was because the ship had not yet reached its intended firing position as its report shows it was more than twice as far offshore as the other destroyers when the bombardment began, and it continued closing another 4000 yards while firing. 

Its orders were to fire on targets T54 and T128, which were about 100 yards apart on the west side of the E-1 exit (WN65).  It was allotted 400 rounds for the mission (with 200 more allotted for a post-H-Hour shoot at Port-en-Bessin).  It had a somewhat favorable angle on the WN65 positions.  It opened fire at 0545 hours, and although  the target was obscured at 0521 hours, it (correctly) continued blind firing until 0629 hours when it reported the DD tanks had been enveloped by the smoke.  As with so many of the other fire support ships that day, it was rather parsimonious in expending rounds on its beach bombardment task, firing just 238 rounds of the 400 allotted (60%).  It then fired 480 rounds at Port-en-Bessin during its post-H-Hour mission.  It seems the priority placed the beach bombardment came in a poor second place to preemptive counterbattery missions.  

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FS Georges Leygues‍

FS Georges Leygues

Source:  Pending.

Position:  Pending.

Unfortunately, I don’t have the action report for the Leygues.  According to the plan, it was to place 250 6-inch projectiles on target T53 (WN64, near the crest of the bluffs).  Given the results of most of the other fire support ships, the Leygues probably shorted its firing schedule, too, but we can’t say that for certain.

It does seem safe to say, however, that the E-1 draw defenses did not receive a substantial percentage of its planned neutralizing fire. 

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FS Montcalm

FS Montcalm

Source:  Pending.

Position:  Pending.

As with Leygues, we don’t have an action report for Montcalm.  It was scheduled to fire on seven targets in the vicinity of Port-en-Bessin for 70 minutes, from 0550 to 0700 hours, and had 300 rounds for the job.  Given the enthusiasm the rest of the fire support ships had for counterbattery fire, I think it’s safe to say Montcalm likely expended all 300 rounds, if not more. 

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USS Emmons, DD457

Sources:

USS Emmons, November 1943

       -    Commanding Officer, USS Emmons, Report and Narrative of Operations of USS Emmons (DD457) during Operation Neptune from 5 June 1944 to 17 June 1944, dtd 22 June 1944. 

-    USS Emmons, War Diary, June 1944. 

Position:  Bearing 240° from targets (target coordinates 66808950 & 687088943) at a range of about 5,500 yards, placing ship about 2,000 yards off the nearest shore.

Emmons was one of five bombardment ships assigned to pummel the defenses of the E-3 draw.[6]  Earlier we covered the disappointing actions of the secondary battery of the Arkansas, which  failed to place any rounds on target T43 in WN61.  After briefly joining the dogpile on Port-en-Bessin, Emmons moved west towards its fire station, experiencing some difficulty finding a spot that did not foul the guns of Arkansas, Leygues and Montcalm.  If finally took position (as stated above) to shell its targets, T47 and T50, which were to receive 300 rounds.  Those targets encompassed WN62.  The Emmons position made it virtually impossible to engage the two west-firing casemated 75mm guns which enfiladed Easy Red.  The range and bearing the Emmons’ report listed are not compatible with the 2,000 yards it claimed it was offshore, so its exact position isn’t certain.  But its general location was very good to take on the 50mm cannon and 75mm PAK 40 antitank gun, both of which faced eastward and covered the anti-tank ditch that blocked the E-3 exit.  The 50 mm cannon was in an open-pit emplacement, and the PAK 40 was in a log bunker, both of which should have been highly vulnerable to the Emmons 5-inch shells.

As with so many other bombardment ships, Emmons did not fire its full allotment of shells, but fell short only a modest 42 shells.  It fired exactly twice as many of the less capable Common projectiles as it did AA projectiles, which may partially account for its failure to do any damage to the two vulnerable emplacements.  During the last part of the bombardment, the targets were clouded with dust, and the ship tried to maintain a firing solution while trying to keep position against the current, using an SG radar fix on the Port-en-Bessin breakwater; it had not dropped a dan buoy.  Despite the obscuration, the ship continued to fire blindly, ceasing fire at 0625 hours, about the time it claimed the first boat wave landed. 

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USS Baldwin, DD624

USS Baldwin, March 1944

Source:  Commanding Officer, USS Baldwin (DD624), Action Report for June 6-8, 1944, dtd 16 June 1944.

Position:  At 0556 hours, on a bearing of 227° to target T43 (coordinates 69308940), range not stated.  Between 0619-0637 hours, it closed to 1,830 yards from the beach.

There is some confusion regarding the Baldwin’s location relative to the Emmons.  Figure 1 shows where each ship reported its own location, but Baldwin’s report placed Emmons to the west of it.  In either case, Baldwin had poor angles on most of the emplacements within its assigned targets, T43, T47 and T50.  T43 was in WN61 (with the 88mm gun) while T47 and T50 were the same targets in WN62 that Emmons also targeted.  As was fairly standard, it was allotted 300 rounds for the period 0550 to 0625 hours.

Baldwin initially opened fire on T43 (WN61), which the Arkansas was also supposed to hit with 250 rounds (but did not).  It ceased fire after expending 56 rounds.  It then shifted fire to T47 (WN62), and though the target was partially obscured, enemy guns returned fire “sporadically.”  Baldwin fired just 24 rounds before it ceased fire on T47.  Next in line was T50 (Also in WN62) which came in for only 16 rounds.  At this point T43 became active again, and Baldwin directed 12 rounds at it, supposedly ‘silencing’ the position. From 0619 to 0638 hours, Baldwin closed the beach ahead of the boat wave, as far in as 1830 yards off the beach, firing an additional 42 rounds before breaking away.

In total, Baldwin fired only 150 of its allotted 300 rounds during the pre-H-Hour bombardment.  Despite that failure, it did two things well:  it closed the beach to closely support the leading boat waves, something few other destroyers did during this phase; and it synchronized its firing with the actual progress of that boat wave rather than ceasing fire according to the schedule.  Still, it failed to fire fully half its prescribed ammunition. 

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USS Harding, DD625

USS Harding, October 1943

Sources:

-          Commanding Officer, USS Harding (DD625), Action Report, USS Harding, Operation Neptune covering period from sortie from Weymouth, England 5 June to 0800 9 June (Departure this ship from bombardment area for Plymouth , England for repairs, ammunition and fuel replacement), dtd 20 June 1944. 

-          Commanding Officer, USS Harding, Brief Chronological Narrative Report of Operations – Operation Neptune – From time of departure for assault to and including 17 June in accordance with NCXTF 181220B of June, dtd 21 June.

Position:  No bearing given, but gave a range of about 3,000 yards from target T41 (coordinates 69558930).  [Harding’s report also placed Emmons west of Baldwin, reinforcing the possibility that one of them gave an incorrect position.]

Harding was tasked with a single target, T41, which was on the beach in the eastern end of WN61, and therefore could cover both the D-3 and F-1 exits.  As with other ships of the eastern group, Harding took part in the response to the shelling by the enemy batteries near Port-en-Bessin, while experiencing several near misses. 

Harding opened fire at 0547 hours on three pillboxes in the vicinity of T41, which it soon claimed it had destroyed.  It then continued to fire on “the area around the pillboxes including the draw to Colleville.”  Either Harding has mistaken the F-1 draw for the D-3 draw, or it had begun to fire 4-500 yards west of its target.  At any rate, it had fired 100 rounds in 18 minutes.  There is some difference between the ship’s two reports as the why it ceased fire, but it did so at about 0605 hours, either because all the positions were destroyed, or because smoke covered the area.  It then shifted fire to target T33, which was Melbreak’s primary target.  After 20 rounds fired in 5 minutes, Harding declared this target destroyed as well.  At 0610 hours it shifted fire to a fortified house in a draw west of Port-en-Bessin, which it declared destroyed after 40 rounds and five minutes.  At 0615 hours, having closed to about 1,700 yards from the beach, it shifted fire to a field gun it had spotted on the beach, and fired six salvos (24 rounds) to cover the area.  Harding claimed it scattered the crew and forced the gun to withdraw, but doubted it was destroyed.  Needless to say, no gun covering the beach was in a position that permitted it to withdraw. 

“At about this time a series of underwater explosions occurred along the beach and somewhat to the northward of our position, extending out into the water for almost 1000 yards.  This appeared to have been shore controlled mines.  Several minutes later the rocket craft opened up.”  That initial set of explosions were either ranging shots from the nearest LCT(R) or the German’s defensive rockets firing from near St. Laurent, as there were no command detonated sea mine fields.  

Harding then shifted fire to a gun emplacement on the breakwater at Port-en-Bessin, though its two reports differ as to the time this happened (0625 vs 0652 hours).  It believed it destroyed the position after firing 30 rounds.  The ship ceased fire at 0656 hours, when it said the troops landed.  The leading waves of the 3rd Battalion, 16th Regimental Combat Team did land about a half hour late, and far to the east, which would be consistent with Harding’s observations.

In its report, Harding figured as a hard-hitting, fast- and accurate-shooting, and quick-reacting ship, rapidly laying waste to a good section of the enemy defenses.  Yet the resistance encountered when the troops landed indicates the ship’s damage claims were overstated, to say the least.  Harding was clearly operating in a manner inconsistent with its orders.  Its mission was to drench one single target with 300 rounds to neutralize it, synchronized with the landing of the leading wave.  Instead, it engaged in a series of small scale sniping escapades with doubtful effects, all but one of which had nothing to do with its objective of neutralizing beach defenses.  It fired only 100 of its allotted rounds at its assigned target area and ceased fire there at least 25 minutes before H-Hour.  Harding totally failed in its beach neutralization mission.

‍ ‍

USS Doyle, DD494

USS Doyle, January 1943

Source:  Commanding Officer, USS Doyle (DD494), Action Report for Period 6-8 June, 1944, Allied Invasion of the French Coast, undated. 

Position:  Not Stated.

As with  several others, Doyle began the day by piling on the Port-en-Bessin batteries, briefly engaging one between 0545 and 0550 hours.   Unlike the other ships, Doyle fired on a battery west of Port-en-Bessin.  It then shifted its fire to its assigned target, T40 (WN60) at 0550 hours and ”fired intermittently with half salvos until 0625.”  Its gun line was fouled twice by other destroyers and had the typical problem with dust and smoke.  The Doyle’s narrative report did not specify how many rounds it fired for this mission, but it included an overlay that showed its fire missions and rounds expended for each mission.  It listed 167 rounds fired for T40—out of an allotted 300 rounds—between 0550 and 0625 hours.

Obviously, a bombardment of half salvos (two rounds) fired intermittently has no resemblance to a neutralizing barrage fried rapidly and continuously, timed to coincide with the landing of the first wave. 

Interestingly, Doyle fired 562 AA projectiles and only 156 Common projectiles through D+1, indicating the assumed shortage of AA projectiles my not have been a fleet-wide issue.   

‍ ‍

HMS Melbreak, L73

HMS Melbreak

Source:  Commanding Officer, HMS Melbreak (L73), [No title or subject], dtd 15 June 1944.

Position:  Not stated.

Unfortunately, Melbreak’s report was extremely brief and contained absolutely no details on its bombardment mission.  It was scheduled to shell target T33 (WN59 near Sainte-Honorine-des-Pertes) and was allotted 300 rounds for the task.   This was one of the targets that served neither the counterbattery mission nor beach neutralization mission.  As with the other Hunt class escort destroyers, it did not provide a detailed report of actual expenditure of ammunition.  It merely stated it left the area that evening with only 30% of its ammunition remaining.  The large majority of this would have been fired at one of Melbreak’s eight post-H-Hour assigned targets in and around Port-en-Bessin, which it was to shell from H+80 to H+240.   

‍ ‍

USS Augusta, CA31

USS Augusta, August 1945

Source:  USS Augusta (CL31),  War Diary for the Month of June 1944, dtd 5 July 1944. 

Position:  Bearing 228°T to Pointe du Hoc at 8 miles range.

Although not included in any of the bombardment plans, the Augusta’s War Diary did include mention of firing one mission during the pre-H-Hour bombardment, and one more after H-Hour. The ship anchored in Fire Support Area 3 at 0617 hours and fired on an unspecified target between 0618 and 0623 hours.  It expended just 21 rounds. 

By 0805 hours, the ship had withdrawn and anchored in the Transport Area.

‍ ‍
‍ ‍

FOOTNOTES:
‍ ‍

[1]TexasAction report, pg. 7

[2] CTF 124 AAR, pg 102.

[3] Chazette, Alain, et al, Atlantikwall, Omaha Beach,  Editions Histoire et Fortifications, Vertou, Fance, 2014, pg 91.

[4] Hall’s CTF-124 order, Bryant’s CTG-124.9 order, or CAPT Sander’s COMDESRON 18 order No. 7-44.

[5]Carmick’s log stated they thought it was Thompson assisting them, but it more likely the McCook when it was firing on its target of opportunity.

[6]Arkansas, Emmons, Baldwin Harding and Doyle.  Harding’s target, T41, was on the east side of WN61.  Doyle’s target was WN60, and while that directly overlooked the F1 draw, its 75mm guns also dominated the D-3 exit.

‍ ‍

Omaha Bombardment. Part III: The Execution

‍ ‍

“A good plan violently executed now is better than a perfect plan next week.” LTG G. S Patton

‍The problem at Omaha was that a middling bombardment plan was executed in a halfhearted manner.  It was not a combination for success.  Before proving that assertion, I think it is important to provide context.  Remember that later on 6 June, most of the bombardment ships heroically came to the aid of the troops struggling to secure the beachhead.  The close-in fire of these ships broke the deadlock on the beach.  These were good ships manned by good men, trying their best under difficult circumstances.  And their efforts helped ensure victory at Omaha.  But . . .‍ ‍

. . . part of the reason those troops were in such dire straits was that those same ships failed to adequately perform their pre-H-Hour bombardment missions.  Somewhere along the line, they failed to grasp the essentials of the bombardment phase of their D-Day missions.  Whether this was a lack of training, lack of leadership, a poor plan or lack of focus on the key details of their mission remains to be seen.  Regardless, their failure, combined with an inadequate plan, contributed to the agony of Omaha Beach

‍ ‍

The Bombardment Group – Unwarranted Restraint

‍The heart of the bombardment plan was the Bombardment Group (CTG-124.9) consisting of vessels ranging from battleships down to escort destroyers.  They would not provide the bulk of the planned projectiles, but they had the guns with the best rates of fire and the best accuracy.  If anyone was going to get the job done it would be these ships.  For that reason, we’ll review their performance first. A detailed summary of each bombardment ship’s fire missions will be posted as an addendum to this installment, but for now it will suffice to recap the results.

‍All told, the bombardment planned for sixteen of these ships to fire 5,697 projectiles—ranging from 14-inch down to 4-inch in diameter—between 0550 and 0630 hours (H-Hour).  (Figure 1)  Unfortunately, the ammunition expenditure figures are not available for four of the ships (the two Free French light cruisers and two of the Royal Navy Hunt class escort destroyers).[1]  Together those four were supposed to have fired 1250 shells, but we have no data on what they did fire.  The ships for which we do have complete data, were supposed to have fired 4447 rounds but only actually fired 2812 (63% average expenditure).  ‍ ‍

But that data includes all missions, not just the beach neutralization mission.  If we analyze solely for beach neutralization, then we find there were 3910 rounds scheduled, but since we lack data for one of the ships, we can only account for 1969 rounds fired, with 250 from  Leygues unaccounted for.  The best case is that Leygues fired all 250 of its allotted rounds (250+1969= 2219) which would mean the beach neutralization ships fired only 57% of their allotted ammunition.  Since the average expenditure rate of the beach neutralization ships for which we do have data is about 50%, the most likely case is that Leygues fired a similar percentage, which would bring the average ammunition expenditure to 54%.  ‍ ‍

Figure 1. This table depicts the ammunition allocations and expenditures for the ships of the Bombardment Group for the H-40 to H-Hour bombardment. The right two columns include data for only those ships with beach neutralization fire missions.

That is significant.  Forty-three to 46% of the projectiles slated for beach neutralization remained in the magazines at H-Hour (with 46% being the most likely figure).  The beach neutralization mission was a failure on this basis alone.  And that number may be even higher. McCook was assigned a single target at the D-1 exit, but reported firing on three separate targets without giving locations on the two extras; they may or may not have involved beach neutralization targets, which would subtract the rounds fired on them from the above calculations. Worse, the lowest expenditure rate by caliber was for the most powerful guns:  18% for the 12-inch guns of the Arkansas.[2]‍ ‍

As bad as these general statistics are, their significance can only be appreciated by considering how this played out at key invasion objectives.   At first glance, the planned shelling of the defenses at the D-3 draw seemed to have every chance of success.  Those defenses were supposed to be pummeled by 385 12-inch shells from the Arkansas, and 400 6-inch shells from the Glasgow.  Firing from opposite fire support areas, the complementary gun-target lines could threaten the embrasures of gun emplacements on both sides of the draw.  And while the 12-inch guns were not valued as highly for beach neutralization due to their rate of fire, this would have been an excellent opportunity to see how effective large caliber projectiles could be.  But these ships made only a token effort.  Arkansas fired only 70 rounds and Glasgow fired only 219; a 37% expenditure rate and a shortfall of 496 shells.  Perhaps it is no coincidence that by nightfall, enemy resistance in the D-3 exit still prevented its opening.  ‍ ‍

It was a similar story farther east on the beach.  Five ships were supposed to fire on the three resistance nests defending the E-3/F1 exits (WNs -60, -61 and -62).  Arkansas was supposed to deliver 250 rounds from its secondary battery there, but had diverted that fire against a position in the vicinity of Port-en-Bessin.  Four destroyers (Emmons, Baldwin, Harding and Doyle) were supposed to add 1200 more rounds to the targets for a total of 1450 5-inch projectiles.  All told, they actually fired only 675 rounds—again, just 45% of the volume planned).  In addition to defending those two draws, the resistance nests contained one 88mm anti-tank gun, four 75mm field artillery guns and one 50mm gun sited to enfilade the eastern half of the landing beaches.  Three of those guns were in positions without overhead cover and should have been vulnerable to naval gunfire, had it been properly applied (suitable gun-target lines and fuze/projectile combinations).  But not one of these ships was in a position such that its trajectories could threaten the embrasures of those guns, and no time fuze was employed to neutralize the open-top positions.[3]  These errors, combined with the failure to fire the full schedule of projectiles, must have contributed to the subsequent bloodshed on Fox Green and the late opening of the E-3 exit.‍ ‍

By way of comparison, the only ship firing on the beach defenses that is known to have actually expended its full allotment of bombardment shells was the Carmick, which sent all 250 of its allotted rounds into WN70.  At the risk of making too fine a point of the matter, this position was adjacent to the site of the penetration of the bluffs by the 116th RCT and 5th Rangers, and it is tempting to conclude the full bombardment here made a significant contribution to the success in that area.  ‍ ‍

All in all, the beach neutralization task had little chance of success with such a half-hearted expenditure of ammunition.‍

‍ ‍

Positioning

‍The ships of the Bombardment Group filtered into the Omaha Transport Area as the convoys they escorted arrived.  Designated ships moved part way down the swept lanes to support the minesweepers with counterbattery fire, if required, while the remainder held back a while longer.  As the clock ticked toward 0550 hours (H-40) they moved forward towards their fire support positions. 

‍Despite instructions to anchor, the Texas decided to use her engines to maintain position, fearing that as the tide reversed, the ship would swing about its anchor and complicate firing solutions.  The Glasgow followed suit. ‍ ‍

In the eastern fire support area, the Arkansas anchored at 0430 hours, presumably followed by the Montcalm and Georges Leygues  (I haven’t been able to locate action reports for those ships).  As the destroyers for that group were moving to their assigned firing positions, the German coastal artillery finally opened up at 0530 hours  Fortunately these were the lighter caliber guns positioned in and around Port-en-Bessin (estimated to be 75mm).  Arkansas initially replied with its 5-inch and 3-inch batteries against what it identified as target T129,[4] one half mile east of Port-en-Bessin at 0538 hours, and then with turrets I and II of her main battery at 0543 hours.  Emmons, being just 2500-3000 yards from the enemy battery at the time, also returned fire.  As the port area was Montcalm’s designated set of bombardment targets, she quickly joined the action.  Not to be outdone Baldwin and Harding joined the party, and probably Melbreak as well (her report contains few details, but she was the farthest ship east of the group and closest to the port).  Doyle chipped in as well, although it targeted a battery one half mile west of Port-en-Bessin.  It isn’t clear whether Leygues joined this effort (due to the absence of its report).‍ ‍

While the response was gratifyingly aggressive, the question is, was it wise?  Did all those ships need to waste that much ammunition against one, possibly two light batteries?  There seems to have been no coordination to this response, merely reaction, raising the question of what command and control was being exercised over these ships during the early stages of the invasion.  The answer is that there apparently was none.‍ ‍

Within minutes the enemy batteries were silenced, at least temporarily, and everyone turned back to their primary pre-H-Hour targets, with only a few minutes delay in a couple of cases.‍ ‍

This incident did have one regrettable result, however.  As noted above, when the Arkansas ceased fire with her 12-inch and 3-inch batteries at 0550 hours, its 5-inch battery continued this mission against target T129 until 0623 hours.  This meant it did not fire the 250 rounds scheduled for target T43—which included the 88mm gun position in WN61.  Forcing the E-3 draw would be just that much more difficult.‍ ‍

Figure 2. Bombardment Group ship positions during the pre-H-Hour bombardment. [Yellow pins: position located by range and bearing from a specified point. Green Pins: positions generally located by range from a specified point, but no bearing. Red pins: no firm data on position.]

Figure 2 shows the initial positions of the bombardment ships as well as can be determined.  The ships of the eastern group provided little data on their positions, and as mentioned above, reports for two of those ships have not been located.  In addition, some of the reports included contradictory data, with the Baldwin’s and Emmons’ positions swapped in one report.[5]  This image does reinforce a point made in the previous installment:  the location of the bombardment ships resulted in gun-target lines such that at least half the enemy casemates could not be effectively shelled, if the emplacements could even be seen from those positions.  None of the eastern group of bombardment ships had a favorable line on any of the guns with enfilading fire west along the beach.  It was much the same with the western group and the east-facing emplacements at that end of the beach.‍ ‍

The bombardment plan had given conflicting instructions on whether to anchor or not.  In the main body of the CTF-124 order they had been given authority to “Anchor at discretion.”[6]   In Annex E (Gunfire Support), however, the destroyers were directed to maintain maneuvering.[7]  Both options had advantages and disadvantages, and the tradeoff basically came down to better firing data from a fixed position (especially as the targets became obscured) versus mobility to get into better firing positions (or evade enemy gunfire).  A couple of ships opted for a middle course.  Upon arriving at their assigned fire support positions, they dropped a dan buoy to mark the location.  This provided a fixed point of reference as they tried to keep position with their engines, while maintaining ability to maneuver as necessary.  Reports indicate only the Arkansas anchored during the bombardment phase, but as noted earlier it is likely Montcalm and G. Legyues did as well.  For those ships which did not drop a dan buoy, they soon found that their Dead Reckoning Tracker was useless in trying to deal with the effects of tide and wind, making firing calculations that much more difficult.‍ ‍

Figure 1 does disclose an apparent failure.  Annex E directed:‍ ‍

“Destroyers proceed down boat lanes and into inshore sectors of fire support areas maneuvering so as to maintain as heavy  a volume of fire on beach targets as possible and adjusting speed so as to approach close to assault beaches as first waves beach.”[8]

Yet we can see from Figure 1, only two of the eleven destroyers continued to close on the beach during the pre-H-Hour bombardment period, and even then, one of them, the Tanatside, continued inshore primarily because it was well short of its assigned firing position when the bombardment began.  Although we don’t have position fixes for the Harding, Doyle and Melbreak, their reports did not mention maneuvering during this phase.  Obviously, this failure to close into the shore would limit the destroyers’ ability to pick out emplacements, or observe the first wave so as to time their cease fires.  On the other hand, by that stage the targets had mostly been covered in dust and smoke, and it was almost impossible to blindly maintain accurate firing solutions while maneuvering.  That would indicate the better solution might have been to anchor—close in—to maintain better blind-firing solutions as dust rose.  This error may have been due to the ships’ inexperience with actual shore bombardment.[9]‍ ‍

But did the guidance from the CTF-124 order to close the beach with the leading wave even make sense?  Using the eastern fire support group as an example, this group of destroyers was spread out in a line to the east of the boat lanes—some very far to the east. So how could they adjust “speed so as to approach close to the assault beaches as the first waves beach?”  If the ships had followed this instruction, four destroyers would all have converged on the area of the E-3/F-1 draws, and their movement primarily would have been laterally from the east, not directly inshore.  While the general idea of closing the beach to maximize effects was fine, without proper positioning and a bit of deconfliction—which were lacking—it would have led to chaos.  It sounded nicely aggressive and warlike, but it was impractical, if not counter-productive. ‍

‍ ‍

A Proper Mental Attitude

‍It appears the conduct of fire for the bombardment was largely impaired by the decisions of the captains, and their decisions were, in turn, influenced by a couple of external consideration.

‍First was a distinct definitional misunderstanding regarding the term “neutralize.”  When providing counterbattery fire, the enemy position is neutralized when it stops returning fire.  But when firing against beach defenses, such as troop shelters and casemates that haven’t yet opened fire, you can’t use the same criterion (lack of response from the defenses) as an indication when to cease fire.  Since there would be no visible indication the beach defenders are neutralized, the bombarding ship must continue to lay down a heavy volume of fire up to the last moment.  That was an absolutely fundamental requirement, and was spelled out in the order (see the quote above).  And yet, that distinction seems to have been lost on the captains of some of the ships.

‍Alongside that matter were two closely related problems.  People firing heavy weapons tend to vastly overestimate their destructive power when they see the large, impressive detonations they cause.  This is especially the case among the inexperienced—and virtually all the gunfire support ships involved were extremely inexperienced in shore bombardment.  Troops in concrete bunkers, and even those in foxholes and trenches, are never as easily destroyed as offshore observers imagine.  This applies not just to naval gunners, but army gunners and bomber pilots as well. Even more importantly, this applied to the fighter pilots circling above who were new to the job of spotting for the naval gunfire.  Inexperienced observers simply assume (wrongly) that great big scary explosions near a target ‘must have’ destroyed it.  One of the greatest lies of industrial-age warfare is, “believe me, the barrage will be so incredible you’ll be able to just walk on in.”  That has rarely turned out to be true, and Omaha would be no exception.‍ ‍

That attitude was then inadvertently stoked by RADM Hall’s (Commander of Force “O”/CTF-124) continued adherence to the concept of destruction over neutralization (and to a degree RADM Kirk’s as well, Commander of the Western Naval Task Force).  In both his base order and Annex E, Hall directed his large bombardment ships to lay down “counterbattery, destructive or neutralizing fire.”  Destructive fire was never the objective, as Ramsay had repeatedly emphasized.  Yet when Hall used that mesmerizing word ‘destruction’, it further primed his captains to think along the wrong lines, and apply the wrong fire techniques.‍ ‍

We have to look no further than the Harding for a perfect example of this.  Harding was ordered to neutralize one single target: T41, which (along with T43 noted above) covered the WN61 position defending the east side of the E-3 exit, and was home of a 50mm gun (in an open-pit emplacement) and the 88mm antitank gun enfilading that half of the beach.  And Harding had 300 rounds to do it.  Initially Harding was distracted by the fire coming from the Port-en-Bessin area and lobbed 40 rounds in that direction starting at 0537 hours.  Shifting fire to its assigned target T41 at 0547 hours, the ship ceased fire at 0605, under the belief the position had been “apparently destroyed.”  It had fired only 100 rounds.  The ship started looking for other targets, first seizing on target T33 (Melbrake’s assigned target).  Harding tossed 20 rounds at it and again claimed the target complex was also destroyed.  At 0610, Harding decided to shell a “fortified house in a draw west of Port-en-Bessin; target destroyed, 40 rounds expended.”  At 0615 hours it shifted fire to what it described as an enemy field piece (no location reported) and sent 24 rounds in its direction.  It claimed the crew was scattered and the gun was withdrawn, but “probably not destroyed.”  At 0625 hours, as its high volume of fire on T41 should have been reaching its climax, Harding instead was focused back on Port-en-Bassin to engage a gun on the breakwater—a target Montcalm was tasked to suppress (the port’s defenses were Montcalm’s only task). 

To summarize the Harding’s bombardment contributions, it fired just one third of its allotted ammunition at its assigned target, at which time it improbably decided the gun positions, shelters and entrenchments had been ‘destroyed.’  They were not destroyed.  Whatever neutralizing effects those 100 rounds might have had, were wasted because the Harding had ceased fire on its assigned target fully 25 minutes before H-Hour, giving the defenders plenty of time to shake it off. Whatever the strengths of the Harding’s captain, he brought the wrong mental attitude to the task and lost focus on what his primary bombardment mission involved.‍ ‍

Nor was the Harding the only example of this.  On the western flank, the Thompson was ordered to place 450 rounds on two targets in WN74.  That was the highest allotment for any of the bombardment ships, as Thompson’s fire mission was supposed to last longer, from 0550 to 0715 hours.  Recall from the previous installment, one of these two targets contained a pair of 80mm guns sited to enfilade the western half of the beach.  The other target consisted of the general defensive works within the rest of the strongpoint, which did not immediately threaten the landing.  At 0550 hours, Thompson opened fire for 30 minutes on the target that included the two gun emplacements. It then judged the target “apparently destroyed” and ceased fire, having expended 107 rounds.  With 10 minutes left before H-Hour, Thompson shifted fire to the other target.  This was a major error. Thompson was not forced to cease fire because the leading waves fouled its gun line; the target was west of the boat lanes and there was no interference. Nor was it forced to cease fire because of time limits; it was cleared to shoot until 0715 hours. Thompson was simply overly impressed by its own fireworks and decided it must have destroyed the target. With 10 minutes left before H-Hour, the gun crews had time to shake off the effects of the bombardment and re-man the guns. It isn’t certain when the guns went into action, but it wouldn’t be last heard from them.

After ceasing fire on the gun positions, Thompson shifted fire to the second target. It was a desultory effort, consisting of just 56 rounds fired over the next 40 minutes (with 30 minutes of it after H-Hour), but Thompson declared that target destroyed, too.  In total, the ship had fired just 163 rounds of its allotted 450 during its bombardment window.  That proved to be a false economy as the ship then noticed a gun firing on the beach. The coordinates Thompson reported for this ‘new’ gun were the same coordinates as the two 80mm guns it claimed had been destroyed at 0620 hours (though it didn’t make that point in its report). There’s no way of telling how long it (or both) had been firing before it caught Thompson’s attention.  Thompson spent the next 40 minutes again trying to silence the gun(s), during which time the gun(s) continued to shell the troops on the beach.  It took another 106 rounds before the ship again announced the position destroyed, rounds that would have been far more productive had they been expended before H-Hour to silence those guns before the landings began. 

It the 10 minutes between Thompson’s cease fire and H-Hour—when Thompson was supposed to be firing its most intense period of bombardment on the gun positions—the ship instead shifted fire to the target that did not threaten the waves as they beached. We don’t know when those guns were put into action, but the volume of flanking fire on the Dog Green beach sector would indicate the guns had not been neutralized by the Thompson’s aborted bombardment and were probably up and firing at or shortly after H-Hour. This would not have happened if Thompson had been focused on continuing its neutralization mission; instead it opted for a destruction mission, with no visible criterion to make such a judgement. And, once again, it’s worth noting that these guns were in earth field works (not concrete emplacements) and should have been vulnerable to Thompson’s 5-inch guns. But the ship had a poor angle of fire on them and had skimped on ammunition.   ‍‍ ‍

The failure of the Bombardment Group was the culmination of several factors, and was not simply due to too little time or too few guns as Hall claimed.  Most of these have been discussed before, but to recap, these are the most important factors:‍ ‍

-          Diversion of ships from either defensive (counterbattery) or offensive (beach defense neutralization) tasks, assigning them instead to targets that did not immediately threaten the landing.‍ ‍

-          Too heavily weighting the defensive tasks.  This primarily applies to wasting Texas’ main battery on Pointe-du-Hoc when a destroyer could have handled the mission. As a result, the heaviest guns in the force made no contribution to neutralizing the beach defenses.  This could also apply to Montcalm; dedicating 6-inch (152mm) guns to neutralize 75mm guns was perhaps excessive and wasteful.‍ ‍

-          Inadequate positioning of ships relative to the orientation of the defensive fortifications within the assigned targets.‍ ‍

-          Failure to use the most effective shell types.  For every one AA shell used, more than 6 common shells were fired, despite the former having better terminal effects.  This proportion was in keeping with Hall’s order, and may have reflected limited stockage levels on hand in the UK.  It also may have reflected the desire to retain AA shells for expected Luftwaffe attacks.  Whatever the cause, it still hampered the bombardment.‍ ‍

-          Passive command.  Once the pre-H-hour bombardment began, it proceeded automatically, without active command involvement.  While this would have been fine had the bombardment proceeded as planned, that is not what happened.  Even though the Destroyer Squadron 18 commander (and his flagship Frankfort) had been diverted to organizing the offshore screen and was not present inshore to control the destroyer force (a questionable decision), his deputy commander (captain of Satterlee) was present on the firing line.  While Satterlee made several excellent decisions on D-Day, it made no attempt to stop the bombardment from veering off the tracks.‍ ‍

-          There was a marked difference in attitude in prosecuting defensive as opposed to offensive tasks.  As soon as a coastal artillery battery opened fire from the vicinity of Port-en-Bessin, every ship in the eastern fire support group aggressively responded.  On the other hand, while prosecuting the beach neutralization task, only one ship fired its entire scheduled ammunition, with the rest firing only about a half.  ‍ ‍

-          Synchronization with the leading wave.  The intent was to increase the volume of fire to a maximum just before the leading wave beached.  While bombardment times were specified in the order, the actual cease fire was supposed to be guided by the progress of the first wave.  Only one ship, Baldwin, mentioned doing this.  The others either ceased firing at the prescribed time, or prematurely switched to other targets.  (The Satterlee deserves mention for taking the initiative to shell Pointe-du-Hoc in conjunction with the Rangers’ delayed landing.  But as that was not its assigned target and occurred after the bombardment period, it doesn’t strictly fit in this discussion, however commendable). ‍ ‍

As you can see, there were many factors in play.  Some were the result of tradeoffs (such as the matter of anchoring versus maneuvering).  Some were flaws in the planning and some were the result of decisions in the midst of gunfire.  And there were factors that no one could affect (such as the six idle 5-inch guns—the equivalent of another one and a half destroyers—on the unengaged side of the battleships).  They all combined to steadily erode the scale and effects of the bombardment.‍ ‍

Yet emerging from this are two overriding facts:  1) too few of the guns available were appropriately targeted on the beach defenses; and 2) only a bit more than half the projectiles that should have been fired, were.  ‍ ‍

So far we have discussed only the standard naval gunfire ships.  It’s now time to turn our attention to the various craft used to complement the fire of their larger brothers.‍

‍ ‍

The Self-Propelled Artillery

‍Given the lack of information about these howitzers on D-Day, there is little to be said.  As you’ll recall from the previous installment, each of the 36 M7 self-propelled howitzers was allotted 100 rounds to fire as its LCT followed the leading waves toward the beach.  That should have totaled a healthy 3,600 rounds hitting the defenses in the 25 minutes prior to H-Hour.  It would have been a considerable addition to the bombardment, amounting to two thirds of what the naval gunfire ships were supposed to shoot (keeping in mind the differences in caliber).  Of course, this potential was offset by the their limited accuracy aboard the bobbing LCTs.

‍There is scant information on the 58th Armored Field Artillery (AFA) Battalion’s action on D-Day.  The unit history mentions the battalion training to fire from LCTs, but completely omits mention of doing so on D-Day.[10]  Similarly, Hot Steel, The Story of the 58th Armored Field Artillery Battalion, also omits this.[11]  However, Fran Baker, the editor of Hot Steel, does have records indicating the battalion fired 774 rounds from their LCTs on 6 June.[12]

‍The 62ND AFA Bn opened fire as planned beginning at 0600 hours at 8,000 yards range.  A total of 349 rounds were fired from the LCTs. 

“On the initial run-in for firing several LCT’s proceeded well within 3,000 yards of the beach while still firing.  All the LCT’s were subject to small arms and cannon fire at this time but no damage to craft or wounds to personnel were suffered.” [13]‍ ‍

The battalion commander (LTC Donal Bennett) had almost nothing to say about firing from the LCTs in his report, merely noting “Battalion fired on beach defenses prior to H-hour.”[14]‍ ‍

Based on 18 howitzers in each battalion, the 58th would have fired roughly 43 rounds per howitzer while afloat, and the 62nd fewer than 20.  These numbers are well below the 100 rounds allocated per howitzer by the CTF-124 order.[15]‍ ‍

There is no clear indication whether these battalions conducted their shoots by direct lay, or if they used the clock method (as discussed in the previous installment).  But we can possibly make an educated guess.  If firing in direct lay, the rear howitzers would have their sight-lines blocked by the howitzers ahead of them in the LCTs, which would prevent them from aiming and therefore firing.  If that were the case, then only the ten howitzers at the front of the LCTs could have fired for each battalion, bringing the rounds-per-gun up to a somewhat more reasonable 77 rounds for the 58th and 35 for the 62nd.‍ ‍

The hard reality, however was that these battalions delivered significantly less ordnance than planned.  Instead of 3600 high explosive projectiles, they delivered only 1123, or  just 31% of the expected firepower.  So, the Army was no better at delivering ‘drenching fire’ than was the Navy.

‍ ‍

The Rockets‍ ‍

Hopes were not necessarily high for the LCT(R) group since CAPT Sabin, heading the Gunfire Support Group, had rated their preparedness as poor due to the late arrival of their craft and their lack of training. Determining their actual performance on D-Day is difficult, as the reports are vague and contradictory.‍ ‍

One the Navy side, optimism was the tone.  LCDR Carr was the commander of the LCT(R) flotilla, and his report was positive.  ‍ ‍

-          His craft used radar with a position prediction indicator (PPI) screen to judge range to the shore.  All but one craft used ranging shots to confirm the radar.  These ranging shots were not as useful as hoped, as the shallow waters nearing the beach caused the rockets to detonate as if they were striking dry land (misleading the observer­—looking from thousands of yards off shore—to believe he was in range).  ‍ ‍

-          Complicating this, the Officers in Charge (OiCs) of the craft stated they could not actually see their targets due to the dust and smoke.‍ ‍

-          Despite the above, the OiCs believed they “fired on target in all instances.”‍ ‍

-          As reported by the OiCs, the time of firing for the craft ranged from H-7 to H+2, which conflicted with the much earlier time recorded in some Army reports.‍ ‍

-          The OiCs also reported the first wave’s estimated range to the shore varied from 200 to 2000 yards, (which indicates synchronization failed badly in the longer cases).‍ ‍

The claim that they believed they “fired on target in all instances” is plainly incompatible with the details concerning misleading ranging shots, inability to see their targets and their first experience with using radar for fire control.    ‍ ‍

Despite his skepticism, Sabin struck a mixed, but mostly positive tone in his report:‍ ‍

“Rocket craft took up their positions, some late. The fire, however, was generally accurate and, it is believed effective.”[16]

‍Later in the same report he warmed up to them even more:‍ ‍

“Rocket fire was excellent in general.  Rockets from two of the craft appeared to be short.  Many rockets exploded shortly after launching.  Conversation with a few Army personnel who landed early indicated they considered the rocket fire their best cover.”

‍ It isn’t apparent how he could judge the fire to be “excellent in general” as the targets were obscured.  Still, his final comment was equally upbeat:‍ ‍

“Rocket craft are the most useful and important of the close gunfire support craft.  Properly trained and used, they can be of great assistance. It is recommended that additional high speed, shallow draft, short range rocket craft be developed.”‍ ‍

As complimentary as that last quote sounded, his caveat of ‘properly trained and used’ reveals he was talking about the hypothetical value of the craft, not the effectiveness as witnessed on D-Day.  In fact, the last sentence recommended a type of rocket craft completely different from the ones he employed.  Skepticism here is also warranted by the fact that the LCT(R)s were sent back to the UK the very next day (D+1).  The CTF-122 plan directed they be returned when they exhausted their ammunition, but each craft had an entire second set of rockets, and were supposed to have reloaded and been ready to fire again by H+210, at targets designated by CAPT Sabin (per the CTF-124 plan). But Sabin did not employ them later on D-Day, or in the following days to assist the push along the coast west from Vierville towards Grandcamp-Maisy.  Instead, they were sent away.‍ ‍That is probably the clearest judgement on their effectiveness.

After the war, Sabin took a different tone.  While claiming the rocket barrages provided a morale boost to the invading troops, he also noted that:  ‍ ‍

‘‘ . . . due to excessive dispersion, however, the rockets inflicted very little damage on the enemy.’’ [17]‍ ‍

He also mentioned in passing that “approximately six thousand rockets left their pads” during the assault; he didn’t point out that was three thousand fewer than were supposed to have launched.   Two pages later he revealed that after H-Hour he still had two fully loaded LCT(R)s at hand, indicating two of the rocket craft had not arrived in time to launch; he did not explain why the remaining 1000 rockets did not fire.‍ ‍

The Army perspective of the rockets’ effectiveness was more in line with Sabin’s later, non-official writings. The 16th RCT reported the rocket craft fired too early, corroborating evidence of the synchronization failure, especially since most of this wave landed late.[18]  It didn’t mention where the rockets struck, but noted their targets were fully in action when the troops landed.  The Army’s Omaha Beachhead stated:‍ ‍

“The rockets, according to most reports from the assault troops, made a heartening display but failed to hit defensive positions-an opinion which cannot be accepted as final and which runs counter to naval reports.”[19]‍ ‍

But even some Navy reports called the rocket accuracy into question.  The LCTs from the group landing DD tanks in the 116th RCT sector mentioned the rockets, but two of those reports thought they were witnessing a series mines detonating in the water and on the beach, or mortar or artillery fire, indicating the barrages landed too short.  A third LCT recognized the explosions for rockets, and reported they landed all around the craft as it beached 75 yards from the waterline – another poorly synchronized and short barrage.[20]‍ ‍

Fragmentary reports from German defenders were just as uncertain, although their comments were recorded decades later and may not be entirely accurate.  Each of their positions should have been hit by a rocket barrage.  Henrik Naub was a machine gunner in WN71 and made no mention of rockets being employed.[21]  Hein Severloh (in WN62) graphically described the horror of the barrage of gunfire and rockets, but noted:‍ ‍

“Nevertheless, the shells of this barrage mostly hit the base too high and caused little damage.”[22]‍ ‍

Similarly, Gustav Winter, who manned the ‘concrete panzer’ in WN68, described a terrible bombardment by large caliber shells, no doubt the abbreviated shelling by the Arkansas and Glasgow.   He did not, however, mention a rocket barrage.[23]‍ ‍

Essentially, we have no idea how accurate the rocket barrages were or how effective the impacts.  Despite the optimism of Navy observers who were looking at a smoke-clouded shore, the sparse reports from American and German troops alike seem to indicate that their effectiveness was minimal.‍ ‍

But in some respects, this distracts from another key point, and that is the difficulty of synchronizing these barrages with the landing of the leading wave.  For one thing, the term ‘leading wave’, which the LCT(R)s were supposed to key on, referred to the tanks that landed from LCT(A)s and (HE)s, and they should have touched down at H-Hour.  In theory the first infantry (Wave 2) should have landed one minute later.  But the Navy’s boat waves were not up to the task of keeping such a tight schedule.  Sabin, who was close inshore observing his various gunfire support craft, candidly stated “there was a general mix-up of all craft.”[24]  Boat divisions lost formation, craft were swept to wrong beach sectors or steered toward misidentified landmarks, and many in the leading waves landed late.  To be truly effective, the LCT(R)s needed to synchronize their firing closely with the first wave of tanks and the first wave of infantry.  And this was simply impossible as the small assault craft were incapable of performing their role to the required degree of precision.‍ ‍

There were many reasons for this, including the sea conditions, the excessively long distance between the Transport Area and the beach, and the generally inexperienced crews of the small craft (more on that in a later series).  The simple fact is that the effectiveness of the rocket craft depended on precise clockwork functioning of several parts, none of which—to include the LCT(R)s—were up to the job on 6 June.  Rocket craft had proven effective in the Pacific, but Hall’s command hadn’t yet gotten the bugs worked out.‍ ‍

I tend to consider these LCT(R)s to have had little physical effect on the defenses.  Their noise and concussions may have contributed something to the general neutralizing effect, though even that is questionable due to the synchronization problem.  Nevertheless, Hall spoke well of the concept in his report, without, however, actually commenting on their effectiveness on D-Day.‍

‍ ‍

The LCG(L)s‍ ‍

Not a lot was expected of the LCG(L)s.   Converted from LCT hulls, they were not particularly good gunnery platforms and had no fire control systems other than direct sights.  By naval gunnery standards, their two 4.7-inch guns were just a bit smaller than the 5-inch guns of the destroyers.  But these flat-bottomed craft could get close inshore where it should be easier to locate and target specific features.  In short, they might come in very handy—with a bit of luck.  The LCG(L)s were tied to the LCT(A)/(HE)s of the first wave, being tasked to escort these craft from the Line of Deployment to the beach, providing neutralizing fire on specific targets on the way in.‍ ‍

According to the plan, three LCG(L)s would fire on four targets in WN72 and WN73 (the D-1 exit).  One LCG(L) would fire on WN65 (E-1 exit) and the final LCG(L) would strike WN61 (at the E-3/F-1 exits).  As a result, both of the casemates that had 88mm guns would be targeted by an LCG(L).  Each craft had an allotment of 120 rounds (except one with 150) and was to fire from H-20 until times ranging from H-4 to H-Hour.  Like the destroyers, however, they were ordered to continue firing until the lead wave of LCT(A)/(HE)s landed or fouled their gun line, in case the LCTs were either early or late.‍ ‍

Unfortunately, they too performed poorly.  It started with two of the LCG(L)s slated for the D-1 draw (#426 and #449)  mistakenly ending up at Utah beach.  Sabin’s report claimed #426 arrived back at Omaha in time to fire on schedule, but #426’s action report contradicts that, stating it arrived at Omaha at 0745, after proceeding at emergency speed, but having to stop and rescue survivors in the water.  The #449 craft remained off Utah. ‍ ‍

As a result, the bombardment of the defenses at the D-1 draw would be reduced by 240 rounds (66%).  The #424 craft did arrive on station, on time and opened fire at 6000 yards, and closed the beach to an unspecified distance.  It ceased fire at 0640 hours, having fired only 66 rounds.  Thus, instead of being hit by 360 rounds of 4.7-inch fire, the D-1 defenses received barely more than one sixth of that number.  (This area had already been shorted 140 5-inch rounds from McCook’s and Texas’ abbreviated bombardments.)‍ ‍

The #811 craft opened fire on its target ( a group of pillboxes in WN65) at 0610 hours at a range of 4000 yards and closed the beach on the flank of the LCT(A/(HE)s until reaching 1000-500 yards.  The OiC was apparently confused as to his mission, believing it was a point target instead of the complex of guns and machine guns.  As a result, after observing two hits and one probable hit on his target, he ceased fire.  He only fired 47 of his allotted 120 rounds.‍ ‍

The final LCG(L) was the #687 craft, which had target T43 (WN61) in its sights, and had 150 rounds to fire (30 more than the rest of the LCG(L)s).  It opened fire at 0609 hours at a range of 4,000 yards and closed to 1,000 yards.  In his report, the OiC stated his mission was neutralization, and apparently, he had the correct interpretation of that word as he fired for the full duration of his timeframe, and expended 110 rounds, despite the obscuring dust.  His report, however, illustrated the weakness in the design of the LCG(L)s in this phase.  The #2 gun was directly behind the #1 gun and, being at the same level could not fire over it.  So, when the craft was headed directly toward the target as it escorted the LCT(A)/(HE)s to the beach, it could only fire one gun.  He attempted to solve this problem by sailing on a zig-zag course which would permit the #2 gun to bear for part of the time.  This was complicated by the need to avoid fouling the gun lines of the Harding and the Baldwin which were firing at the same target.  Again, planning needs to consider these details.‍ ‍

But generally speaking, the LCG(L)s were a disappointment, expending only 223 of an allotted 630 rounds.  Under-firing seemed to have been the common affliction among the bombarding vessels, be they ships or craft or howitzers.‍ ‍

Both CAPT Imlay (Deputy Commander of Assault Group O-1) and CAPT Sabin (Commander of the Gunfire Support Group) doubted the value of the LCG(L)s in the landings, focusing on their lack of fire control systems and a decision not to link those craft with spotters ashore, which precluded them from being directed on known targets.[25]

‍ ‍

The Control Vessels

‍There were six patrol craft that acted as control craft offshore at Omaha.  The vessels were PC-461 Class, 173 foot submarine chasers.  Although doctrinally sub chasers, they were classified as patrol craft and numbered as such (e.g., PC-552).  (Not be confused with a smaller class (110 ft) of submarine chasers used as secondary control craft on D-Day.)  ‍ ‍

As primary control craft, four of the six PCs had the job of locating their beach sectors and positioning themselves at the Line of Departure to guide the boat waves to the correct beaches.  The remaining two craft were reserve control vessels, and they would start at the Line of Departure, and accompany the lead waves to 2000 yards offshore and take position there.  ‍ ‍

As these six ships mounted 3-inch guns, they were incorporated into the bombardment plan and each craft was given a target to fire on and allotted 50 rounds (AP) for the job.   ‍ ‍

On D-Day, one PC (PC-552) did not fire as it was too busy trying to rescue soldiers whose DD tanks had sunk.  It isn’t known whether PC-567 fired, as the only report from that ship was from the embarked Dispatching Officer, and he made no mention of firing, probably because he was busy with other duties.  I assume the ship did fire; there was nothing to distract it from that task as was the case with PC-552.  We know from a crewman’s personal account that PC-553 did fire, and while he mentioned hitting their pillbox seven times, he did not mention how many rounds were expended.  PCs -568, -618 and -1225 did fire, with the first two closing to 2000 yards and the latter remaining 4000 yards offshore.  They fired 51, 19 and 50 rounds respectively. ‍ Two craft ceased fire 12 minutes early due to smoke-obscured targets, and the third kept up the fire until H+10.

It’s impossible to establish how much effect the PCs had on German defenses.  After the pre-H-Hour bombardment, these ships reported some excellent pinpoint shooting and destruction of quite a number of enemy positions (without slighting the honor of the sailors involved, it isn’t clear how much of those claims were the result of accurate observation or ‘enthusiastic estimation’)  Nevertheless, as far as the pre-H-Hour bombardment is concerned, there is no way to judge their effect.‍

‍ ‍

The Elephant in the Screen‍ ‍

Hidden in plain sight in Kirk’s operation plan was Task Group 122.5, the Reserve Fire Support Group, consisting of one light cruiser, 17 destroyers and the heavy cruiser Augusta.  That’s a very large reserve and a whole lot of firepower standing idle, especially when you’ve been complaining you don’t have enough bombarding ships.‍ ‍

The truth is they weren’t exactly idle and these ships were filling necessary roles.  First, they were mostly deployed in the WNTF flank screen facing Cherbourg.  The E-Boat raid on RADM Moon’s Exercise Tiger convoy had made Kirk understandably nervous about what surprises might come from Cherbourg and the Brittany ports.  And if Kirk was nervous, Moon was doubly so. ‍ ‍

And second, they were standing by to replace bombarding ships that had used up their ammunition allowance.  Naval gunfire was going to be very important in the coming days, and they could not simply exhaust all the ships’ magazines in the first few hours.  As no one wanted a ship to completely ‘run dry’ on ammunition, the plan stated if a ship fired 70% of its magazines, it would be pulled out of line and placed in the screen until it could be sent with a return convoy to the UK for replenishment.  Once it was pulled out of the bombardment force, a ship from the Reserve Gunfire Group would stand in and replace it.  Only one ship at Omaha fired off 70% on D-Day, the Satterlee.‍ ‍

Still, seventeen destroyers and two cruisers seem a bit excessive as a reserve.  It’s difficult to believe one, or two, or even three couldn’t have been added to Hall’s bombardment force.  From this perspective, 80+ years later, it is impossible to judge all of the considerations Kirk had to weigh, and it wouldn’t be wise to flatly say he erred in this allocation of ships.  But it is reasonable to wonder if some adjustment shouldn’t have been made.‍ ‍

On the other hand, two factors do argue against the allocation of an additional ship or two from the Reserve Fire Support Group.  First, Hall clearly did not get nearly the volume of fire expected from the ships he did have, and there would be no guarantee any reinforcement would have been handled any more effectively.  And second, Hall’s failure to deconflict positioning and gun-target lines in the fire support areas was such that adding one or two more ships may have actually been counterproductive.‍ ‍

There was one small, surprise gift from the Reserve Fire Support Group.  In the early hours of 6 June, the heavy cruiser USS Augusta with its nine 8-inch guns and eight 5-inch guns sailed into the Transport Area off Omaha.  Although Augusta was Kirk’s WNTF command ship (with his Army counterpart, LTG Bradley aboard), it was also dual-hatted as part of the Reserve Fire Support Group.  In my previous installment I questioned why it hadn’t been given a bombardment task in any of the plans.  It turns out that at some point late in planning, the subject must have come up and it was included.  ‍ ‍

Augusta arrived at the western swept lane hours earlier, but didn’t proceed into Fire Support Area 3 until 0550 hours.  At 0617, it dropped anchor and a minute later opened fire.  Its action report did not identify the target, and the ship only expended twenty-one 8-inch rounds over a five-minute period, ceasing fire at 0613 hours.  It opened fire again at 0635 hours (again at an unidentified target), expending 30 rounds before ceasing fire eight minutes later.  Having taken a symbolic lick at the enemy, the ship then repositioned back into the Transport Area, anchoring next to Hall’s command ship (the USS Ancon).  It hadn’t been much, and it probably didn’t help much, but it couldn’t have hurt.  It was a bit disappointing, though.

‍ ‍

Questions and Answers‍ ‍

There are four major questions this series has attempted to answer.‍ ‍

The first is why Admiral Ramsay and General Montgomery did not adopt an invasion model more akin to that used in the Central Pacific.  I believe the first installment answered that question thoroughly.  I’ll merely leave the final word to Unteroffizer (Corporal) Henrik Naube, of the German 352nd Infantry Division, manning a machine gun in WN71:‍ ‍

“I am also puzzled as to why the Americans did not damage our positions more fully before the landing. I imagine that there is a balance for an attacker to keep, between a lengthy bombardment which does a lot of damage but also signals that an attack is coming soon, and on the other hand a last-minute preparatory bombardment which forces the defenders to take cover but without letting them prepare for the attack. Nevertheless, considering their capability, I am surprised that their aircraft did not attack us more fully overnight on the evening of the 5th June or at first light on the 6th, when the bombs from their heavy bombers fell wide. I think that would have disrupted our defences and still prevented us from reacting in time by bringing up reserves and so on.”[26]‍ ‍

Henrik’s second sentence shows a better understanding of the difficult tradeoffs involved in selecting the bombardment length than did a number of senior officers in the Allied command.  As for his second sentence, well, that provides an excellent segue to the next installment, which will examine the planned air bombardment.‍ ‍

The second question was whether the bombardment plan was reasonably sound, which was addressed in the second installment of this series.  That analysis identified several flaws in the multiple layers of bombardment planning, most of which concerned conflicting instructions and unclear guidance.  The major flaw appeared to be the failure to make the most of the assets on hand, such as the Frankfort not being used, the targeting of Texas at Pointe du Hoc and the diversion of ships to non-critical targets during the brief bombardment window. The result was a significant diversion of firepower from the critical beach neutralization task.  The best illustration of this lopsided allocation of firepower unwittingly comes from Hall’s own report on the operation.  He proudly bragged that the defensive counterbattery mission was so effective that only a single shot was fired at the fleet and it missed.[27]  That was a factually incorrect statement, but the general sentiment is on point: the German coastal artillery had virtually no impact on the invasion.  That fact stands as a clear indictment of how Hall apportioned guns-to-tasks.  The fact that he succeeded so completely at the counterbattery task—while failing so badly at the beach neutralization task—is clear evidence he put far too many of his critical and limited assets into the former task and badly shorted the latter.‍ ‍

It’s almost as if he never believed the beach neutralization task was achievable, and as a result did not tackle the job as seriously as he did the counterbattery task.  If so, his doubts created a self-fulfilling prophecy, with too few guns committed, too few rounds fired and too few captains vigorously prosecuting their beach neutralization task.‍ ‍

And that neatly leads to our third question: was the bombardment plan executed effectively?  No. It was not.  With almost half of the Bombardment Group’s planned projectiles left unfired at H-Hour, there is no question execution was a failure.  The self-propelled howitzers firing from LCTs fired an even lower percentage of their shells, and with much less accuracy.  And no one can make even an educated guess what effect the rockets had.  Finally, the LCG(L)s and control craft suffered from many of the same problems, with the added point that there were so few of them.  ‍ ‍

The failure of the bombardment at Omaha was not so much due to the lack of bombarding ships or time (though a bit more of each would have been very nice to have) as it was due to poor allocation of ships to tasks, and extremely poor execution.‍ ‍

Had intelligence spotted movement of the artillery of the German 352nd Infantry Division into position behind the beach, that would have presented Hall and his gunfire planners an entirely different set of challenges.  His bombardment group would have been clearly inadequate to shell the numerous battery positions scattered inland in addition to their other tasks.  Presumably this would have resulted in some of the Reserve Fire Support Group’s ships shifted to Omaha.  And while this was the reality they ended up facing on D-Day it is outside the scope of this analysis:  how well was the bombardment, as planned, executed?‍ ‍

And that leaves us the fourth and final question.  Could the bombardment have succeeded had it been better planned and executed?  That’s difficult to say, if for no other reason than how to measure success?  Where on the sliding scale of ‘attritted defenses’ is the success line?‍ ‍

We do know that even in its anemic form on D-Day, the bombardment did have some significant effects.  All three of the German defenders I cited earlier testified that a soldier in their separate groups broke down in fear.  Eyes bled from the concussions.  Hearing was lost.  Concrete walls ‘rippled and cracked.’  Two of them described nearby concrete positions destroyed.  The end of one position was blown open, exposing defenders to the beach. Gustav Winter, manning the concrete panzer, said his turret was penetrated by a Sherman tank shell that killed his loader.  Yet when examined after D-Day, it was found intact, indicating he abandoned the fight.  Similarly, Henrik Naub in WN71 reported that the Volksdeutsch[28] troops in the neighboring bunker killed their German NCO rather than continue the fight.  So even this truncated bombardment had effects, both physical and moral.  It wasn’t enough in that truncated form, but it hinted at what more could have been accomplished had it been fully prosecuted.  ‍ ‍

Had the bombardment been almost doubled—that is, had all the allotted ammunition been fired—and had the ships better synchronized their cease firing with the landing of the first waves, there is little doubt it would have been far more effective.  Had the LCT(R)s been better trained, more accurate and better synchronized, the effectiveness would have been even greater.  And had the self-propelled artillery fired its full allotment, how much more effective might it have been, despite their accuracy problems?  ‍ ‍

But how much more effective and would it have been ‘enough?’  That’s impossible to quantify, and everyone will draw their own conclusion.  As for me, I won’t commit the typical error of predicting it would have been a ‘walkover.’  In an era of dumb bombs and unguided projectiles, there were strict limits to what a bombardment could achieve.  But I do think it is obvious that the losses among the American invaders would have been considerably less had the bombardment been better planned and more violently executed.  Maybe, just maybe, it would have been successful enough that we would not feel obliged to think the adjective ‘bloody’ must precede Omaha.‍

‍ ‍

Spin and Scapegoat‍ ‍

Hall never did admit that his view of the tactical environment was faulty, and he never let slip the slightest hint how poorly his pre-H-Hour bombardment misfired.  In his after action report he repeatedly hammered home his belief that he hadn’t enough time or ships for the bombardment, and he similarly criticized Ramsay’s decision that neutralization was all that could be achieved.  Hall repeatedly stated that slow, aimed fire for destruction of beach defenses over a prolonged time should have been used.  This despite the fact that such a delay likely would have resulted in a defeat of the invasion.  Hall suffered from the blindered perspective of a man focused on the first 100 yards, and was incapable of seeing any larger ramifications.  He was so fixed in his opinion that he didn’t see the flaw in his own assertion.  He blamed the ineffectiveness of his pre-landing bombardment on inability to spot the enemy positions. ‍So how would a longer and more deliberate (aimed fire) bombardment succeed when he nothing to aim at?

In fact, Hall was left in an untenable position.  On the one hand, he blamed the ineffectiveness of his bombardment on the lack of ships, time and the inability to spot the emplacements.  On the other hand he had to portray his command’s efforts as effective and successful.  He attempted to rationalize this internal contradiction with this carefully crafted disclaimer:‍ ‍

“Naval gunfire support was effective against the targets on which it was directed.  Unfortunately the pre-landing bombardment was not accompanied by air bombardment as was planned, consequently many enemy position were left untouched.”[29]‍ ‍

This was wildly at variance with the facts.  As worded, it clearly implied that the naval and air bombardments were focused on different targets. Hence the failure of the air bombardment left many targets untouched.  Absolutely false.  As figure 3 graphically demonstrates, every air target duplicated naval bombardment targets.  Not a single target was assigned to the bombers alone.  If any target had been left untouched, then Hall’s force had to have failed to engage it as well.  But they didn’t fail to engage those targets.  What they failed to do was to engage them fully, skillfully and in proper synchronization with the first wave.  ‍ ‍

Figure 3. This combined targeting chart shows that all 13 air bombardment aimpoints coincided with naval bombardment targets. Therefore none of the defenses should have been left untouched, as RADM Hall stated, due to the delay in releasing bombs. Every position still should have been neutralized by what Hall characterized as effective naval bombardment.

Hall was also absolutely incorrect when he stated his “gunfire support was effective against the targets on which it was directed.”   That was an inexcusable exaggeration.  It possibly could have been at least more effective, had his captains vigorously prosecuted their bombardment missions.  But they didn’t.‍ ‍

This failure has generally been papered over by the subsequent critical role played by the destroyers later in the morning when they stepped up and provided excellent support to the troops pinned on the beach.  That (deservedly) heroic story, when coupled with the constant references to the ‘bomber failure’ scapegoat, has kept historians from digging more deeply for over eight decades.

‍But now we know better.

‍ ‍

Coming Next

‍- Shortly following publication of this post, I’ll publish an addendum summarizing the experiences of each of the ship’s in the pre-H-Hour bombardment, for those who would like to look into the details more closely.

-‍ In the next two to three weeks I’ll post an installment analyzing the planned air bombardment for Omaha, focusing on the practical limits of using strategic bombers on tactical targets, and what the likely outcome might have been had the weather not interfered.

F‍OOTNOTES ‍

[1] Action reports for the Hunt class escort destroyers are available, but have scant detail and do not mention ammunition expenditure.  I still have feelers out to find D-Day reports for the Free French cruisers.

[2] The 14-inch guns of the Texas were larger, but were not involved in the beach neutralization mission.

[3] CTF-122 operation order prohibited use of the still-secret radar proximity fuze, but mechanical time fuzes were allowed.  The hope may have been that the high trajectory rockets would eliminate these open positions, but given the poor training of those ships, it was an unrealistic dream.

[4] This would appear to actually have been T128 based on the description ‘one half mile east of Port-en-Bessin.’  T129 was about 3 miles east of Port-en-Bessin.

[5] For instance, the Doyle’s position is shown based on its reported bearing and distance from its target.  However, it also reported its estimated distance to the beach, which would place it significantly closer to the nearest shoreline.

[6] Commander Assault Force Omaha (CTF124), Operation Order No. BB-44, pg. 11.   NARA, RG 313, Entry Number P111, Box 81.CTF 124 OpOrd, pg. 11

[7] Ibid. Annex E (Gunfire Support Plan), pg 4.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Commander Assault Force “O”, Action Report – Assault on Vierville-Colleville Sector, Coast of Normandy, dtd 27 July 1944, pg 101.  When commenting on joint exercises in the Slapton Sands area, Hall stated, “In the case of the U.S. destroyers, this was definitely limited by the low ammunition allowance possible.”

[10] History of the 58th Armored Field Battalion, on file at the Ike Skelton Combined Arms Research Library’s Digital Library (call no. UA30.2 (58th) .H5 RARE).

[11] Baker, Fran, ed. Hot Steel, The Story of the 58th Armored Field Artillery Battalion, Delphi Books, 2014.

[12] Correspondence with the author, 26 February, 2026

[13]After action report, 62nd Armored Field Artillery Battalion, 19 Nov thru 31 Aug 43, June, Sept, Dec, 1944, Jan 1945. See the Unit Journal entry for 6 June 1944, pg. 60 of the .pdf.  On file at the Ike Skelton Combined Arms Research Library’s Digital Library.

[14] Ibid.  See Narrative of the Battalion Commander, dtd 4 July 1944, pg. 51 of the .pdf

[15] Opcit. CTF124 Operation Order No. BB-44, Annex E (Gunfire Support Plan), Appendix 2, pg. 17.

[16] Commander, Gunfire Support Group (CTG124.8), Action Report – Operation Neptune, 3 July 1944, pg. 18.  NARA, RG 38, Nara Catalog Id: 4697018

[17] Stillwell, P., ed, Assault on Normandy,First Person Accounts From the Sea Services. Naval Institute Press, Annapolis, MD, 1994, pg. 59.

[18] See, for example, the After Action Report of the 3rd Battalion, 16th Regimental Combat team for the 30-minute late landing of their craft, and the 16th Regimental Combat Team’s S-3 Combat for the early (“off schedule”) firing of the rockets.

[19] Armed Forces in Action Series, Omaha Beachhead (6 June – 13 June 1944), Battery Press, Nashville, 1984. pg. 41.

[20] LCT587, LCT589 & LCT590

[21] Henrik Naube, Eckhertz, Holger. D DAY Through German Eyes - The Hidden Story of June 6th 1944: Book One (p. 45). DTZ History Publications. Kindle Edition.  (Omaha Beach, The Resistance Nest Machine gunner

[22] Severloh, Hein. WN 62 - Memories of Omaha Beach: Normandy, June 6, 1944 (German Edition) (p. 74). Kindle Edition.

[23] Gustav Winter, Eckhertz, Holger. D DAY Through German Eyes - More hidden stories from June 6th 1944: Book Two (D DAY - Through German Eyes 2) (p. 5). DTZ History Publications. Kindle Edition.

[24] Sabin’s (CTG124.8) action report, pg. 16.

[25] For Imlay’s comments, see Deputy Commander Task Group 124.3, Report on Operation Neptune, 1 July 1944, pg 10, and for Sabin’s, see pg. 37 of his report (footnoted earlier in this article)

[26] Eckhertz, Holger. D DAY Through German Eyes - The Hidden Story of June 6th 1944: Book One. DTZ History Publications. Kindle Edition. p. 67.

[27] Commander Assault Force “O’ (Commander Eleventh Amphibious Force), Action Report - Assault on Vierville-Collevile Sector, Coast of Normandy, dtd 27 July 1944, pg 7.   In fact, several ships reported near misses at ranges that precluded the beach defenses as their sources.  One of his destroyers, Baldwin, was actually hit by two shells from a shore battery of 75mm or 88mm.

[28] These were foreign nationals categorized as ethic Germans, but not citizens of Germany.  The were a lower racial category and often included Poles who had no allegiance to Germany, but had been conscripted.

[29] See Hall’s 1st endorsement (dtd 25 Sept 1944, pp 18-19) to Deputy Commander Assault Force O-2’s Action Reo0rt – Operation Neptune, dtd 4 July 1944.  NARA, RG 38, NARA Catalog Id: 4697018

‍ ‍

Omaha Bombardment. Part II: The Plan

Overview

With the basic form of Operation Neptune establish in the Initial Joint Plan and the Joint Fire Plan, and further amplified in Admiral Bertram Ramsay’s series of ‘ON’ orders, it was the turn of the subordinate commanders to begin formulating their own orders.  The second tier of orders consisted of those published by the commanders of the Western and Eastern Naval Task Forces, led by Read Admiral Kirk, US Navy, and Rear Admiral Vian, Royal Navy.  Kirk’s Western Naval Task Force (CTF-122), controlling Assault Force Utah and Assault Force Omaha, issued its operation order on 21 April 1944.[1]  It was now time for RADM Hall, commanding the Assault Force Omaha (CTF-124) to get down to the stubby pencil work.

Hall’s planning had gotten off to a poor start, at least according to Ramsay, who had visited Hall in March to observe his Exercise Fox.  Ramsay found the TF-122 staff badly organized and the task force itself not yet formed into task groups, even though they were at the stage of holding exercise rehearsals.  Hall blamed the problem on a lack of staff officers.  Whether Hall’s organization was as bad as Ramsay believed, the matter was not helped by the creation of Moon’s parallel staff for the Utah landings.  Now both naval assets and experienced staff planners were split between the two commands.  And until Hall formed his force into subordinate task groups—who would assume the burden of more detailed planning—his staff would be overworked if not overwhelmed.  This contributed to many of the planning errors which I have highlighted in this series of articles.

Hall published his own order on 20 May,[2] a month after Kirk’s and two weeks after the final rehearsal exercise (Fabius), leaving his subordinate task groups and task elements just a few days to sequentially develop and publish their own orders.[3]

Organizing the Battlespace

Figure 1. Taken from the Fire Support Annex of the CTF-124 Operation Orde, this figure depicts the organization of the offshore waters at the Omaha Assault Area.

Hall’s order included charts which established routes, areas for specific activities and graphical control measures.  In addition to establishing the Transport Area, it also established areas for his fire support ships. (Figure 1) The battleships and cruisers would arrive early off Omaha as they initially had the mission to support the minesweepers with counterbattery fire should German coastal defense sites try to interfere with the vital sweeping task.  These big bombardment ships would anchor in the first areas cleared of mines (the so-called Swept Lanes).  The two designated fire support areas for destroyers included Fire Support Area 3 (encompassing the Kansas and Oregon sectors) and Fire Support Area 4 (encompassing the far eastern area of the Ohio sector).  The bulk of the Ohio sector consisted of the boat lanes for the beaching craft.  The boat lanes were separate from the fire support areas, but some of the bombardment ships could operate in those lanes as required.

Destroyers were not to anchor but were to maneuver to maintain position against the current or to gain to better firing positions.  Once the zones outside the fire support areas were swept of mines, the destroyers could use them for maneuvering.  The area inshore of the 10 fathom line was believed clear of mines and was available for maneuvering.  This requirement to “remain underway maneuvering so as to avoid mutual interference with lines of fire” was necessary but would have an adverse effect on gunnery.  Destroyers were also instructed to “close the range as much as possible when delivering neutralizing and destructive fire.”[4]

Although not shown in Figure 1, the land area was divided into two sectors for the purpose of assigning counter-battery responsibilities.  The boundary coincided with the boundary between the two assault regiments.  The battleships, cruisers and destroyers operating in Fire Support Area 3 were responsible for Sector I (in the west), and those of Fire Support Area 4 were responsible for Sector II.

Organizing the Force

The various ships and craft of the bombarding force were assigned to different task groups at different stages of the operation.  For example, the destroyers successively were part of the escort group during the Channel crossing, then part of the bombardment task group and then to the area screen.  Within the context of the bombardment mission, the fire support groups were organized as follows:

-          FS Group 1:  USS Texas and HMS Glasgow

-          FS Group 2:  USS Arkansas, FS Montcalm and FS Georges Leygeus

-          FS Group 3:  Twelve destroyers/escort destroyers

-          FS Group 4:  Consisting of four sub-groups:  a) Five Landing Craft, Gun (Large) (LCG(L)); b) Nine Landing Craft, Tank (Rocket) (LCT(R)); c) Sixteen Landing Craft, Tank (A) or (HE); and d) Seven Landing Craft (Flak) (LCT(F)).  (The LCF did not figure into the bombardment plan and will not be discussed further).

-          FS Group 5: Ten LCTs with 36 M7 Self-propelled artillery guns embarked.

-          FS Group 6: Twenty-four Landing Craft, Support (Small) (LCS(S)).

Although not included in the CTF 122 task organization, there was another valuable gunfire asset present at Omaha.  Kirk’s command ship, the heavy cruiser USS Augusta (CA-31), would be anchored in the swept lane of Fire Support Area 3.  The nine 8-inch guns of her primary battery and eight 5-inch guns of her secondary battery made her the third most powerful warship at Omaha on D-Day, and were potentially a powerful addition to a bombardment force that was so short on ships that it was forced to rely on self-propelled artillery firing from bobbing LCTs.  But would it be incorporated into the bombardment plan?

Targets and Targeting

Considerable effort had been expended to obtain as much information on enemy dispositions as possible.  Most of the intelligence came from aerial photography and reports from the French resistance.  Although intelligence had missed the movement of the German 352nd Division into the area, it had nevertheless complied a fairly comprehensive index of German positions on and behind the beaches.  The Vth Corps and TF-124 staffs developed a target list of almost 140 locations.  Many of these were important terrain features (e.g., beach exits, road junctions, etc.) but the majority were occupied enemy positions.

One hundred and forty targets were obviously beyond the capability of Hall’s bombardment force, but that wasn’t a problem.  Many of those did not need to be struck during the 40 minutes of preparatory fires, and many others were so close together that they could be suppressed by a single fire mission.  And many more were simply included in the list as they seemed likely to be engaged as combat ashore progressed.

For the purposes of the pre-H-Hour bombardment, the important targets fell into two categories.  The first were enemy coastal artillery positions that could threaten Hall’s ships and craft.  Hall was particularly sensitive—excessively so in some opinions—about the danger from two such batteries: Pointe du Hoc to the west and Longues-sur-Mer to the east.[5]  Although Pointe du Hoc was supposed to be assaulted by the Rangers at H-Hour, and Longues was about 5,700 yards outside of Hall’s sector to the east, both positions housed 155mm guns with estimated ranges of 26,000 yards.  The range fans of these two batteries worried Hall to the extent that he chose an extremely long distance offshore for the Transport Area: 23,000 yards.  (Figure 2) Ramsay had tried to convince Hall to bring it in closer; the British Transport Areas were much closer, despite facing similar or more numerous enemy batteries.  Hall refused.  It was a mistake.  The excessively long ride to the beach contributed to the loss of LCVPs and LC(A)s, and seriously reduced the physical state of the assaulting troops.

Figure 2. This map shows the major coastal artillery batteries and their range fans. The Omaha Transport Area lay just inside where the range fans for the Pointe du Hoc (the red circle) and Longues-sur-Mer (the blue circle) batteries intersected.

Countering coastal artillery batteries (a defensive task) was doctrinally the job of battleships and heavy cruisers, with light cruisers (6-inch/152mm guns) acceptable in a pinch.  Hall had two battleships that could handily suppress a 155mm battery, and potentially the heavy cruiser Augusta (8-inch/203mm guns) as well.  As the Longues battery was in the Gold Assault Area (to be targeted by HMS Ajax, a 6-inch cruiser from that force), Hall was left with just one serious threat, and two heavy ships (and possibly a third: the Augusta) to deal with it.  So, Hall was in excellent shape.  But the battery at Pointe du Hoc was not the only coastal artillery battery.  Port-en-Bessin, at the boundary between Omaha and Gold Assault areas, contained a cluster of smaller caliber guns as well as a few smaller German gun boats, similar to the LCG(L), all mounting 4.7-inch guns or smaller.  These would need to be dealt with. 

The principle offensive task during the pre-Hour bombardment was preparatory fires, defined as:

“. . . intensive fire delivered on the landing beaches and adjacent areas during the approach to the beach of the landing craft of the leading wave.”[6]

The preferred ships for this task were the destroyers due to their high rate of fire with decent-sized projectiles.  Light cruisers were also good in this role.  The heavy cruisers and battleships were less desirable; despite their far heavier shells, their slower rates of fire made them less effective in the drenching fire role, and made them more suitable for deep support missions.

And of course, the heavy bombers would play a role in both the defensive and offensive tasks - more on that in a later installment.

One of the perennial issues in amphibious operations was the competing priorities of the naval and land commanders.  Target selection naturally was an interest to both the Navy (who was concerned primarily with the defensive task of neutralizing enemy coastal artillery) and the Army (who was primarily interested in the offensive task of neutralizing enemy beach defenses).  This was a matter that vexed Ramsay several times during the planning phase. 

“The Army appear to think it is their right to dictate the targets for air & naval guns whereas up to the time the Army are established ashore by the Navy, I maintain that the employment of air and naval guns is mainly a matter for the Naval C in C.”[7]

There appears to be no indication Hall and Major General Gerow (the Vth Corps commander) had any serious disagreement in this regard, but it remains to be seen how Hall’s allocation of fires between the defensive and offensive tasks might have affected the success of the landings. 

Intelligence Failure

It’s important to note what was not included in the target list: the German field artillery batteries.  Indirect fire (gun/howitzer artillery, rockets and mortars) are the principal casualty inflicting weapons in modern warfare.  Small arms fire, wire obstacles and minefields primarily serve the defender by slowing or halting the attackers in a kill zone where they make lucrative targets for indirect fire.  As a result, neutralizing the enemy field artillery units generally has a very high priority.  And yet there was only one ‘possible’ field artillery position included in the target list­—and it was not scheduled for bombardment. 

This omission was a gross error.  It was not, however, an error in judgement among the planners.  It was a failure of intelligence.  Allied intelligence had completely missed the forward repositioning of the German 352nd Infantry Division into the coastal defenses.  And as troops of the 352nd thickened the bunkers and trenches at Omaha, their artillery moved forward as well; in fact, it had moved forward before the infantry units had.  Where there had been just one four-gun 105mm battery supporting the beach defenses, seven batteries could range the beach on D-Day.  Four of these were 105mm batteries and the remainder were 150mm batteries (the latter were just as dangerous as the guns of Pointe du Hoc).[8]

The presence of troops and field artillery batteries of the 352nd Infantry Division were not the only intelligence failures.  Rommel had spurred a frantic rush to increase defensive works, and Allied intelligence was simply unable to keep up with the rapid developments.  Take for example the two most deadly direct-fire weapons the Germans had on Omaha Beach:  the two 88mm anti-tank guns.  The 88mm gun emplaced in WN61 (E-3 Exit) had only been completed in late April, while the one in WN62 had been completed only in late May.[9]  Had their presence been known, or even suspected, Hall’s targeting priorities may have been much different.

As the plans were finalized, the two most deadly categories of German weapons were not even addressed by the bombardment planners: the field artillery batteries and the 88mm anti-tank guns.

Target Assignments

Part of the art of targeting lies in the selection of the targets that needed to be struck, and the assignment of the right bombardment guns and projectiles for the job. 

Navy armor-piercing shells had a delay fuze and were effective in penetrating concrete structures; but they had relatively less high explosives filler than Army projectiles of similar caliber.  The Navy ‘common’ shell had lower penetration, a somewhat higher proportion of high explosives and an instantaneous fuze.  The Army landing manual rated them as “not well suited for general use in support of a landing,” though the AP rounds would be useful against concrete bunkers and casemates, if a direct hit could be scored.  The Army rated the Navy’s HC shells (High Capacity, i.e., thinner-walled projectiles with more high explosives) and AA shells (anti-aircraft shells, sometimes referred to as ‘AA common’) more highly and said they should make up the bulk of the supporting fires.[10]  (The AA shells had roughly 3 times the explosive filler as the common shells.)  The bombardment plan explicitly specified shell types only for the battleships.  However, the plan did include the following guidance:

“Destroyers will use a high ratio of common type projectiles in pre-landing bombardments.”[11]

It isn’t clear why Hall’s plan favored a less capable projectile for the destroyers during the critical bombardment phase, but it may be one reason the bombardment was not as effective as hoped.  The fuze/shell combinations that were actually fired on D-Day will be covered in a later installment.

Now, let’s see how the bombardment plan combined these assets and against which targets. 

14-inch and 6-inch Guns

With an abundance of battleships and cruisers—at least in regard to the number of coastal artillery batteries—Hall had some flexibility in assigning these ships to targets beyond their doctrinal defensive role.  Figure 3 illustrates target allocation for the primary batteries of each of the two battleships and three cruisers.  He assigned two ships to defensive missions: the Texas’ 14-inch guns targeted the battery at Pointe du Hoc with up to 250 rounds (65% AP/ 35% HC) and very briefly the adjacent St. Peirre du Mont infantry position (12 rounds, HC), while the Montcalm’s 6-inch guns targeted the smaller enemy guns at Port-en-Bessin with 300 rounds.  These two ships easily overmatched their targeted batteries in caliber, number of guns and rate of fire.  There was one disconnect with the Texas, however.  Because the CTF plan specified the ratio of HC to AP rounds, the subordinate fire support unit commanders were not authorized to change that ratio. RADM Bryant was the commander of the Bombardment Group (CTG 124,9), and he flew his flag from the Texas.  Bryant’s order specified that HC shells should be used in counter battery fire, not AP.[12] This was likely in recognition of the fact that the guns of Pointe du Hoc were believed to be in open gun pits. Not all the smaller guns at Port-en-Bessin, however, were in open emplacements.

Figure 3. Targets assigned to the main batteries of the battleships and light cruisers.

That left Hall with the Arkansas and two cruisers he could devote to neutralizing beach defenses.  The defenses at Exit D-3 received the bulk of their attention, with WN68 being the focus of two of the Arkansas’ fire missions, and WN66 receiving a third (385 rounds for all three of its missions; 70% HC/30% AP).  Although Ramsay specified the objective was merely neutralization, Hall’s order specified destructive effects for these Arkansas fire missions. They were the only targets at Omaha for which destructive results specified. When destructive effects are desired, F.T.P-167 advised HC shells should be used with delayed fuzes, a point whose significance will become apparent later.

WN66 also received the full attention of the Glasgow’s main battery (400 rounds).  

The Georges Leygues’s main battery was assigned WN64 (250 rounds)

4-inch and 5-inch Guns

One destroyer, the Frankfort, would play no role in the pre-H-hour bombardment.  Although it was the flagship for Destroyer Squadron 18 (DESRON18) and had the squadron commander aboard (who therefore commanded the 12 ships of the Destroyer Fire Support Group), it was initially tasked with organizing the offshore screen,[13] so was not physically in the fire support areas until after H-hour.  The absence of the squadron commander could pose problems for the bombardment, and it is a point to keep in mind when we examine the execution of the plan. The two destroyer division commanders, however, remained in the fire support areas and should have provided continuity of command.

The secondary 5-inch batteries of the two battleships were employed against WN71 (Texas, 250 rounds) and WN61 (Arkansas, 250 rounds).  (Figure 4)  Although each battleship had six of these guns, they were in casemate mounts, so only the three guns from the engaged side of each ship could fire these missions.  With a rate of fire of 8-9 rounds a minute, a battery of three such guns should have been capable of firing the allotted 250 rounds during the bombardment.

Figure 4. Targets assigned to the destroyers and the secondary batteries of the battleships.

Six of the US destroyers were assigned targets defending the Dog through Fox beach sectors.  Each of these targets was one of the German resistance nests along the beach (except for WN69, 66 and 64).  These destroyers were each tasked with from one to three targets and allocated 250-350 rounds.

Interestingly, no 5-inch fire was allocated against the defenses at the D-3 Draw.  Only the 12-inch guns of the Arkansas and the 6-inch guns of the Glasgow were turned on these positions. This might provide an interesting test case as to whether the larger 12- and 6-inch guns were more effective in the neutralization/destruction role than the lighter 5-inch guns.

One thing summary discloses is that Hall’s bombardment plan had inserted targets that did not directly address counterbattery or beach neutralization tasks. (Figure 5) One destroyer, the Satterlee, was assigned two adjacent targets (in WN76) a kilometer west of Pointe du Hoc.  This was a curious choice for a command that was short on bombardment ships, especially as 300 rounds were allocated to its neutralization.  The targets were not in a position to threaten the landing at Pointe du Hoc.  The target list did not identify any enemy force at that position, and the intelligence overlay indicated it was only occupied by a squad.[14]  From a point, more than 80 years removed, it would seem this target would have been better addressed after H-Hour, and Satterlee would have been better employed elsewhere during the bombardment period.

Figure 5. This chart shows how the guns of the Bombardment Group were allocated missions for the pre-H-Hour preparatory fires phase. Forty-one of the 132 guns were not allocated to either of the two primary tasks during that phase.

Similarly, the destroyer Thompson was assigned two targets, which were separated by more than 400 yards (meaning one fire mission could not cover both targets), in the vicinity of Pointe et Raz de la Percée (WN74, 450 rounds).  This area was the assault objective for the two companies of the 2nd Ranger Battalion that were to land on the Charlie beach sector, but they would not be in position to assault the strongpoint from the landward side for at least an hour, as they would have to scale the cliffs of Charlie beach sector and then maneuver to WN74.  Thus, Thompson’s fire would cease on one of the targets (the defensive works) far too early to be of any use in supporting the Ranger assault.  The second target within that strongpoint, however, included two 80mm guns (75mm in some sources) facing east toward the Dog beach sectors and was a legitimate target for the bombardment period.

Although Hall complained about the lack of bombardment ships, his plan took three destroyers largely out of the fight.  One (Frankfort) was diverted to the screen, one (Satterlee) and a half (Thompson) were diverted to targets not critical to either defensive or offensive tasks; only half the firepower of a single ship of the three (Thompson) was committed to a defensive task. 

Among the British Hunt class ships, we again see the diversion of guns from both the defensive and offensive tasks, with Talybont firing four missions (about 400 rounds) against two German positions between Pointe et Raz de la Percée and Pointe du Hoc.  Neither of these positions threatened the amphibious shipping nor contributed to neutralizing the beach defenses.  While they did contain German troops, these could have been targeted after H-hour, thus freeing up the Talybont for beach defense neutralization.

Similarly, Melbreak, off the east end of the beaches, was assigned a single fire mission against WN59, three kilometers east of the E-3 exit.  It had no weapons to threaten the amphibious shipping, nor did it cover any of the landing beach sectors.  The firing period for this mission was from H-40 to H+60, with 300 rounds allotted.

Only Tanatside seems to have contributed to either the defensive or offensive tasks, being assigned two fire mission against WN65, on the west side of the E-1 exit (400 rounds).

Although the figures varied between ships, generally they were allotted roughly 25%of their magazine capacity for the bombardment phase. This was in line with guidance from F.T.P-167, which also reserved another 25% for targets of opportunity after H-Hour. The CTF-124 plan directed the 5-inch ammunition allowance for destroyers to be:

• 1250 rounds AA common (7.11 - 8.4 lbs. explosive filler)

• 250 rounds common (2.58 lbs. explosive filler)

• 45 rounds White Phosphorus (smoke)

• 100 rounds illuminating

• 200 round AA special (Variable time fuze)

LCTs / M7 Self-Propelled Artillery

The 36 self-propelled howitzers of the 58th and 62nd Armored Field Artillery Battalions were embarked in 10 LCTs.  They were assigned targets at opposite flanks of the beach, with 100 rounds allocated per gun, for a total of 3,600 rounds to be fired in a 25-minute period between H-30 and H-5.  In theory, this represented a significant addition to the bombardment. (Figure 6)

Figure 6. Targets assigned to the LCT(R)s, LCG(L)s, self-propelled artillery and PatrolCraft.

The guns were due to start firing at about 8,000 yards (at H-30) and continue firing as the LCTs slowly cruised toward the shore, ceasing fire at about 3,700 yards (expected to be at H-5).  The guns faced two major challenges to accuracy.  First, the motion of the LCTs in even moderate seas would play havoc with the trajectories.  Second, as the range decreased, that variable had to be continually factored into the gun data.  There were two methods of doing this.  The first was simply sighting the target in the direct fire mode and adjusting the gun’s elevation for each round.  It’s doubtful the sights on the self-propelled howitzers were adequate to identify the assigned targets at those ranges except in the most general geographic sense, and this method depended on the skill of 36 individual gunners.  These factors did not promise good results.

The second method was the clock method, which was based on the assumption that the LCTs would close the beach at a predictable pace, and the gunnery data could then be pre-calculated and changed on a time schedule while firing.  This was the method taught at the Assault Training Course and seemed the more precise, or rather less inaccurate, method. 

There is little in the records that documents the training, planning or firing while afloat by these two battalions.  As to how they performed the gunnery tasks on D-Day, there is only a single off-hand comment that they shot in the direct fire mode.

The technique of using self-propelled artillery firing from LCTs did not appear promising.  During Exercise Trousers (12 April), Ramsay observed 90% of the shells fell into the sea.[15]  A week later, however, at the next exercise (Exercise Smash III, 18 April) he noted they fired “good, the best I have seen . . .”[16]  As promising as that improvement might be—and he did not indicate how effective that relative improvement was—those were British exercises and did not reflect whatever proficiency the American units at Omaha had achieved.

LCT(R)s

The nine LCT(R)s were part of CAPT L. S. Sabin, Jr.’s Gunfire Support.  These LCTs originally had been given to the British through Lend Lease.  For Neptune, they were to be modified to carry about 1000 rockets each and ‘reverse Lend Leased’ back to the US.  The craft were delivered late and were in very poor material condition.  Although they had begun forming crews for these craft by the end of 1943, the late delivery of the craft posed major training hurdles.  As of 5 May, only two of the LCT(R)s destined for Omaha were on hand, with the remaining seven arriving on the 6th, 17th and the final craft during the last week of the month.  The late delivery of the LCT(R)s meant all nine crews had to rotate on the two available craft during training, resulting in minimal depth of experience for the raw crews.  By the time the last seven craft began to arrive, the British Assault Gunnery School had closed and the LCT(R) flotilla had to conduct makeshift training on their own.  Only one craft had participated in Exercise Tiger (it did not fire) and another in Exercise Fabius.  None of the crews were experienced in basic seamanship, ship handling or use of the rockets.  Two crews:

“ . . . joined the assault forces without ever having handled their craft except in the passage from Base Two and without ever firing rockets except at the Assault Gunnery School.”[17]

Sabin rated his LCT(R)s’ readiness as: 

“Generally poor except for two or three early deliveries which reached a satisfactory state of training.”[18]

The rocket craft were assigned beach neutralization targets along the landing sectors, mostly targeting strongpoints flanking the four draws.  (One craft was assigned the 75mm guns of WN74 at Pointe et Raz de la Percée).  Nine thousand rockets should smother the beach defenses in the five minutes before the first wave landed.  The intent was for these craft to take position about 2,700 yards behind the first wave, and fire their rockets when the first wave LCT(A)/(HE)s were 300 yards offshore, but the erratic nature of these rockets caused this to be increased to 500 yards.  The rocket craft had radar to determine the range and were to fire ranging shots to confirm the distance before firing their full salvos. 

LCG(L)s

The LCG(L)s were converted LCT(3) hulls, and they also suffered from late delivery and a rushed training program.  Nevertheless, Sabin rated their readiness on the eve of the invasion as fair.

Mounting two 4.7-inch guns, they were to take position to the flanks of the first wave (the LCT(A)/(HE)s) and fire on specified targets from H-20 until just before H-Hour (the specific time varied by craft).  All of their targets were offensive, consisting of immediate beach defenses, and there were about 150 rounds of ammunition allotted for each LCG(L).  Note that the 4.7-inch guns were a larger caliber than those mounted in the Hunt class destroyers, though the latter were better gunfire craft with better gun control systems.

LCS(S)s

One other category of fire support craft was at hand.  These were the Landing Craft, Support (Small) (i.e., LCS(S)) of Fire Support Group 6.  Their firepower was so small that Hall’s plan did not bother to assign them targets.  Nevertheless, there were 24 of them, each mounting machine guns and launchers for 24 rockets (with 24 reloads).  Their mission was to guide in initial waves and provide last minute suppressive fire starting 1,000 yards from the beach.

Although not included in any of the fire support groups, there were six patrol craft that would serve as the primary control craft for the various beach sectors. As each of these patrol craft mounted a 3-inch gun, they were assigned specific targets and were each allotted 50 rounds to fire between H-25 to H-5. 

Key Guidance

In addition to these provisions, Hall’s plan included many details to regulate the bombardment.

One of these details conflicted with Ramsay’s ON 8, and would prove to impact execution on D-Day.  Under ‘Close Support Fire—Drenching of Beach Defenses’,[19] Ramsay directed:

“A high rate of fire is to be maintained during this period, even though continuous spotting is likely to be impractical.”[20]

Hall’s order, however, stated:

“Ships are not to employ rapid fire for more than one minute without correcting for range and deflection.”[21]

Hall’s guidance appears to mirror that which Ramsay had issued for counterbattery fire (the section preceding the Close Fire Support section), but the CTF-124 order stated it in a context that applied to fire support missions in general.  Under Ramsay’s instructions, a destroyer whose preplanned bombardment target was shrouded in dust should continue firing.  Under Hall’s instructions, the destroyer would have to cease firing as they could not spot and correct their fire.  This situation was hopefully clarified by the CTG-124.9 (RADM Bryant’s Bombardment Force) order that stated:

“(12) Due to dust, haze and general confusion, air spot for scheduled firing may not be available.  In such case carry out fire on scheduled targets using best data available.”[22]

In reality, it was an open question as to which instructions a ship’s captain would follow.  It was an opportunity for confusion, and Chaos seldom lets such opportunities pass.

Another note in Hall’s order raised another question:

“Fire missions assigned Destroyers and LCG(L)s and scheduled above to close between H-5 and H-2 shall be continued until LCT(A) – LCT(HE) wave fouls the range.”[23]

As a result, positioning of the destroyers would be key to whether they might be forced to cease fire before H-5 or were able to continue as long as the leading wave might be delayed. Unfortunately, Hall’s order did not specify the destroyers’ positions other than assigning them patrol areas—in which they were to remain maneuvering underway—so at this point it isn’t clear if there was adequate effort to deconflict gun-target lines and wave approach bearings.  That level of detail was also not addressed in RADM Bryant’s order for the Bombardment Group or in CAPT Harry Sander’s order for the Destroyer Fire Support Group.[24]

More than Just Lobbing Shells‍

Unnoticed in the plan was small bit of confusion that would have significant impact on D-Day. The US destroyers had no experience with shore bombardment in an actual invasion, and their training in the UK had been limited by insufficient ammunition allocations. The Arkansas had yet to fire any of its guns in anger in WWII, so was completely new to the intricacies of beach neutralization. Even the Texas had had only a brief experience with bombardment, and that was in 1942 during Operation Torch. The confusion centered around their understanding of the concept of neutralization, which in a number of cases would lead to premature suspension of bombardment. As a result, the conduct of fire by several of these ships turned out to be not at all what was expected, either in terms of the number of rounds fired or in synchronization with the landing of troops. Somewhere along the line, the bombardment force hadn’t fully understood the nature of their task. A more complete explanation of this disconnect will have to wait for the next installment.

The Problem with the Pointe

The six 155mm coastal artillery guns at Pointe du Hoc seemed to have had a hypnotizing effect on the planners at all levels, but especially within Hall’s staff.  This battery was easily overmatched in caliber, number of guns and rate of fire by the Texas (ten 14-inch/356mm guns) and the Arkansas (twelve 12-inch/305mm guns) and was even overmatched in terms of number of guns and rate of fire by each of the three cruisers (nine or twelve 152mm guns per cruiser).  More importantly, the Pointe du Hoc battery was a German Army unit, which meant its director and fire control systems were not at all sufficiently refined for engaging moving naval targets.  Most telling of all, the battery position consisted of open gun pits (excepting for the two initial casemate positions that had been damaged).  They could be easily neutralized, even by a destroyer, using time-fuze (air burst) projectiles.

Doctrinally, battleships and cruisers were the best platforms to neutralize coastal artillery batteries, but this would seem to have been one of the obvious cases to ignore the manual.  The nature of the Pointe du Hoc battery simply was not as serious a threat as was feared.

The battery position did still need to be neutralized, if for no other reason than to assist the Ranger assault, but this would have been better served by a destroyer such as the Satterlee, which according to the plan would be wasting its pre-H-Hour shelling on a non-critical target to the west.  This would have freed up the main battery of the Texas for employment against defenses at one of the two primary exits.

The Naval Bombardment Plan – A Lack of Focus?

Our initial focus was on Hall’s allocation of bombardment ships between offensive and defensive targets.  But this examination reveals he had introduced a third mission set.  During an assault, a basic tenet of fire support is that as troops close on the objective, the fires are then shifted to the flanks and rear of the objective to seal it off from reinforcements, pin enemy formations in place, etc.  This shifting of fires would fall into the Navy’s Close and Deep Support categories.  Several of the target assignments discussed above clearly fall into those support categories, but were incorporated into the short pre-landing preparatory fires.  There’s nothing particularly wrong in doing that, assuming you have ample support assets to adequately do the beach neutralization tasks, and have enough excess guns for any support tasks.  Hall, however, made it abundantly clear he felt he did not have adequate bombardment ships.  Thus, every gun Hall diverted to these support tasks further hamstrung the beach neutralization effort, which he felt was already critically under-supported. 

The Satterlee, Talybont and Melbreak (and half of the Thomspon’s firepower) were all assigned to targets which neither threatened the amphibious shipping nor played a role in the immediate suppression of the landing sectors.  There were probably reasons to shell those targets, but nothing so time-sensitive or imperative that they needed to divert scarce guns from beach neutralization in the equally scarce time allotted for that task.  Indeed, the targets for those three ships could, and probably should have been shelled after H-Hour.  In much the same vein, only one of Thompson’s two targets (the set of 75mm guns at Pointe et Raz de la Percée) demanded attention prior to H-Hour.  The second target could wait until later.

Having brought up the topic of “lifting and shifting” fires after H-Hour, it must be noted that Hall’s plan virtually ignored this mission set after H-Hour—at least as far as the ground combat was concerned.  Virtually all of the pre-planned fires starting after H-Hour were directed against defensive targets (enemy positions that threatened amphibious shipping).  Montcalm and Tanatside would continue shelling Port-en-Bessin.  Melbreak would continue shelling its ‘isolation target’ past H-Hour and through to H+80, at which time it would further pile on Port-en-Bessin.  Satterlee, Talybont and Thompson would continue firing on their pre-H-Hour targets for times ranging from 15 to 45 minutes after H-hour.

Only four ships had new preplanned targets assigned after H-Hour.  The Arkansas would shoot 50 rounds of harassing fire at the city of Treviers, 8 kilometers south of Vierville (identified merely as ‘troops in town).  Destroyers Carmick, Emmons and Doyle were allotted a combined total of 150 rounds to shell six grid coordinates (not further identified) located at the heads of the D-3, E-1 and E-3 draws.  These were scheduled to last just 20 minutes, with an average of only 25 rounds per target.   

In summary, Hall’s plan wasted the firepower of three and a half of his destroyers on targets which neither threatened the amphibious shipping, nor contributed to neutralizing the beach defenses, to which must be added the diversion of the Frankfort to the screen.  These four and a half ships would have been an important addition to the firepower of the seven and a half destroyers that were committed to neutralizing the beach defenses.  It must be noted that the 1st Division order for the invasion seems to have been fully in agreement with this diversion of firepower.

And finally, the cruiser Augusta.  As Kirk’s flagship (with Bradley aboard), the Augusta did not fall within Hall’s task organization.  In fact, in addition to its role as the CTF-122 command ship, it was also part of the Reserve Gunfire Support Group (CTG-122.5 - more on this unit at a later date!). As it was the sole heavy cruiser present and already had a gunfire role, the omission of its 8-inch guns from the bombardment plan raises serious questions.   If Hall—and Kirk—really felt so strongly about the shortage of bombardment ships, it is odd they could not find a way to to incorporate the Augusta into the bombardment plan.

So, it would seem that the plan’s allocation of ship to mission roles was faulty, and failed to weight the allocation sufficiently to beach neutralization.  But what about allocation of fires to key targets within those mission roles?  This is a difficult question as neither the naval plan nor 1st Division plan gave any relative priority to eliminating any resistances nests or opening any exits.  All were treated as the same priority and the assumption seemed to be that the beach defenses would be knocked out in stride; most of the order focused on achieving objectives well beyond the beach. 

There were two paved roads off the beach, through the D-1 and D-3 exits, and you might assume they would be given higher priority, but they were not.  In fact, the 1st Division’s Traffic Circulation Map indicated traffic leaving the beach would go through the D-3, E-1 and E-3 exits, with return traffic to the beach down the F-1 exit.  The paved road at the E-1 exit was not part of the traffic circulation off the beach to the vehicle transit areas.[25]  Although there is no evidence of a direct linkage between this traffic circulation scheme and Hall’s fire support plan, the relatively light fires devoted to WN71, 72 and 74 may have been influenced by it not being a one of the beach exit routes. The plan assigned only two 5-inch fire missions against these three targets (McCook and Texas’ 5-inch battery for a total of 550 rounds).  Three LCG(L)s, one rocket barrage one third of a battalion of self-propelled guns and two patrol craft were also to be concentrated on these positions, but all those assets had severe accuracy problems.  The only fires whose accuracy could be relied on were the 5-inch guns.  It was not an impressive concentration of firepower considering how dangerous those defenses turned out to be.

As for the D-3 exit, recall that the Arkansas was assigned a destruction mission against WN66 and WN68. The plan called for 70% of the 385 rounds to be HC, and the destruction role called for delayed fuze. This would virtually guarantee heavy cratering of the paved road through the D-3 draw, negating much of its early value.

The defenses at the E-3 exit, guarding the unpaved secondary road, also included three positions: WN60, 61 and 63.  The firepower concentrated here was substantially greater, although the three positions were dispersed over roughly twice as wide an area as at the D-1 exit.  Nevertheless, four destroyers and the secondary battery of the Arkansas targeted those defenses with 1,450 5-inch projectiles.  Three LCT(R) rocket barrages were also dedicated to this area as were all the self-propelled howitzers of the 62nd Armored Field Artillery Battalion.  Even in terms of planned air strikes, the E-3 draw was more heavily target with five strikes as compared to three at the D-1 Exit.  Only the LCG(L) support was lower at the E-3 exit.

It isn’t clear whether the CTF-124 planners were aware of the presence of the 88mm guns at the D-1 and E-3 exits.  As noted earlier, the gun position in WN61 was completed in late April, and the one in WN72 was completed in late May.  The fact that the bombardment plan did not target those positions with anything greater than 5-inch guns tends to indicate they were not aware of those threats.  The 1st Division’s plan indicates they were aware of the new casemate in WN61 (with no indication of the size of the gun) but appeared totally unaware of the new casemate in WN72.[26]  Being apparently unaware of the latter 88mm gun position, the planners seemed to have had no particular reason to target the E-1 draw’s defenses more heavily.  

We can form some conclusions from CTF-124 targeting.  It appears it failed to effectively use its bombardment ships, with a significant portion of the firepower diverted to secondary targets or diverted to non-gunfire missions.  The bulk of Hall’s firepower (in terms of sheer volume of projectiles) rested on the self-propelled artillery and the LTC(R)s; the former being highly unreliable and the latter seriously under-trained.  Aware of the deficiencies of both of those assets, one would think the CTF-124 plan would have more fully exploited the battleships, cruisers and destroyers in the beach neutralization role.  In addition, several planning factors would contribute to lessening the effectiveness of the bombardment, such as the instruction to use a high ratio of common rounds, and instructions requiring a halt to rapid fire after one minute to verify spotting.  And there was more . . .

Target Geometry and Gun-Target Lines

Figure 7. An example of a German gun casemate with the embrasure protected by a ‘wing’ of blast wall.

In his report on the invasion, Hall remarked on the difficulty of spotting the enemy’s gun positions because they were sited to enfilade the beach and were protected on the seaward side by concrete and earth walls which not only protected the bunkers but shielded the gun muzzles and embrasures from view.[27]  This should not have been a surprise as the weekly ‘Martian’ intelligence reports (dating prior to 20 May when Hall’s order was issued) included detailed drawings of the typical gun bunkers used by the Germans.  These plainly showed the protective blast wall that shielded the gun and embrasure against observation and fire from directly offshore.

If the planners did examine those drawings, the targeting implications seemed to have been lost on them.  While these gun bunkers were proof against fire from directly offshore as well as naval fire coming obliquely from offshore to the rear, there was still one direction in which they were vulnerable.  A ship close inshore in the direction of the embrasure could land shells near or behind the protective blast wall, and perhaps even in or near the embrasure.  Although the chances of destroying the gun were still slim, gunfire delivered on such a gun-target line had a much greater chance of neutralizing (stunning/demoralizing) the crew.

The bombardment plan overlooked this point.  Taking the destroyers as an example, those bombarding the beach defenses were split into two groups (located to the eastern and western flanks of the beach) and were assigned targets on their corresponding halves of the beach.  As a result, their gun-target lines would usually send shells at the enfilading positions from the worst possible angle.  The Emmons and Baldwin, both directed to fire on WN62, would fire on their target from positions to the east of it, meaning their gun-target lines could not possibly place rounds that might threaten the embrasures or crews of the two concrete emplacements for the 75mm guns. 

Figure 8. An overhead view of WN62. The blue lines show the orientation of the protective blast walls that shielded the embrasures. The blast walls were about 15-20 yards long. The orange arrows show the principal directions of fire for the 75mm guns. The red and yellow lines represent the gun-target lines for destroyers Baldwin and Emmons, respectively. Based on their positions offshore, these destroyers had little chance to neutralize these bunkers or other west-facing emplacements.

Similarly, the Baldwin was directed to fire at WN61, as was the 5-inch battery of the Arkansas.  Again, both ships were located somewhat to the east of the target, meaning it was impossible to see even partly around the blast walls or threaten the embrasures.  This was particularly unfortunate as the west-facing 88mm anti-tank gun was in that position.   

It must be pointed out, however, that the Emmons and Baldwin weren’t in totally useless positions, as their gun-target lines had somewhat more favorable angles on the eastward facing positions in WN62.  But this merely emphasizes the point that such positions should be bombarded by ships with complementary gun-target lines so that embrasures could be threatened by at least one of the ships no matter which direction the bunker faced.  Neither Hall’s nor Bryant’s order addressed this.

In a few cases, a ship had a decent gun-target line.  HMS Tanatside was one of those.  Directed to fire on WN65, its gun-target line had a favorable (but not ideal) angle on the eastward facing bunker in that position.  Its gun-target line would have been much more favorable had it come a couple thousand yards closer inshore.

Figure 9. Actual and alternate positions and gun-target lines for HMS Tanaside. The yellow line for the Tanatside shows the distance the ship closed while firing and the red line points to its target at WN65. The blue line from WN65 indicates the direction of the blast wall protecting the east-facing bunker. Had the Tanatside been able to start firing from closer inshore, it could have obtained a much better firing line on the bunker. The proposed alternate position shown for the Tanatside was still 4,000 yards offshore (3,500 yards closer inshore than its actual position).

And this would turn out to be an issue during the bombardment.  While the destroyers heroically came in so close to shore later in the day that they risked grounding, during the pre-H-Hour bombardment the plan had positioned them so far offshore that it limited gun-target lines to unfavorable angles on the targets. The plan did direct them to close inshore as much as possible; in the next installment we’ll see how well that played out.

It would seem very little thought had gone into the positioning of the various bombardment ships relative to the location and configuration of their targets, or relative to the position of other bombardment ships.  The reports of ships having to check fire as a sister ship drifted into the gun-target line would also indicate this.[28] The plan’s organization of the water off the beach (Figure 1) was taken almost directly from the generic example diagram in F.T.P-167. But German defenses at Omaha were not generic, and a more sophisticated set of fire support lanes should have been developed to effectively carry out the bombardment mission. Any attempt to address this problem would have had to create something along the lines of a third fire support area in the middle of the boat lanes.  From there two or three destroyers could get better angles on the on the embrasures which ships in the flanking fire support areas could not possibly threaten.  While such a solution would introduce additional problems—which should not be underestimated—it was the only way to spot and strike at these hidden gun positions.

A Question of Scale vs Psychology

So far we have considered the bombardment plan only from a quantitative perspective, as if it were some sort of mathematical equation: X number of projectiles delivered to an area Y yards square will neutralize the position.  But combat is a human endeavor, and such a mathematical approach ignores the human factor.  A bombardment that will break and route one defender may have little effect on another defended with higher morale or better discipline.  And in that truism may lie much of the blame for the failure of the Omaha bombardment.

Figure 10. This figure depicts the combined targeting from all naval bombardment ships and craft (except the LCS(S)s). While it appears comprehensive, many details would combine to substantially reduce the potential effects of the bombardment plan.

The bombardment was designed with the expectation that the defenses were manned by a limited number of low quality troops from the 716th Infantry Division, a ‘static’ formation incapable of offensive operations.  Despite the impressive strengthening of the physical defenses under Rommel’s prodding, the men manning the defenses were the same old men, young boys and convalescents.  Worse (though better for the invaders), a substantial number of the division’s troops were conscripted Poles whose loyalty to the Reich was almost nonexistent.

Most of the defenders’ hardened positions (gun casemates, troops shelters, ammunition shelters, etc.) were built to standards that made them basically proof against 5-inch shells, which was part of the reason the objective was neutralization, not destruction.  Neutralizing effects—stunning and demoralizing the defenders—are largely dependent on morale.  And the morale of the static 716th Infantry Division’s troops wasn’t expected to be very high.  With the strongpoints thinly manned, with almost no artillery support and almost no reserves at hand, the defenders’ sense of isolation would have been much greater.  The defenders’ morale, already weak, would have been especially vulnerable to the psychological effects of the bombardment. 

But all that changed when Rommel ordered the 352nd Infantry Division to move forward to bolster the defenses.  Steven Zaloga’s detailed analysis indicates the Omaha defenses had been tripled by the addition of two rifle companies of the 916th Infantry Regiment (part of 352nd Division) as well as detachments from that regiment’s heavy weapons company, infantry gun company and anti-tank company.  In addition, two engineer companies had moved in just behind the line of beach defenses.[29]  The reinforcements from the higher-quality 352nd Infantry Division served to stiffen the original defenders, and the presence of reinforcements from the 352nd located to the rear would have further raised the defenders’ morale.

Perhaps the greatest boost to the resolve of the defenders was the four 105mm and three 150mm batteries of artillery, where before the defenders had just one.    

All in all, the defenders on 6 June were far less likely to suffer the demoralization effects than the original garrison the plan was based on.  The neutralizing/demoralizing effects of bombardment are to a major degree dependent on the morale and quality of the troops being attacked.  And the bombardment at Omaha found itself attacking far stronger defenses than had been anticipated, in both physical and morale respects.  This key factor of psychological vulnerability/resilience is typically omitted from analyses of the Omaha bombardment.  And that is a critical failure, for the psychological state of the defenders was perhaps even more important than the depth of concrete or weight of projectiles. 

The intelligence failure was a matter beyond Hall’s and his planners’ hands.  What they absolutely could affect, however, were the details of the bombardment plan.  Did they employ their bombardments assets in the best way possible, or even reasonably well?  This analysis calls that into doubt.  Given that Hall had complained long and loudly that he had been given woefully inadequate bombardment assets, some of his decisions are open to question.  Was the Frankfort’s diversion to the offshore screen during the bombardment period wise?  Was the failure to incorporate the Augusta into the bombardment plan wise?  Why was the Texas assigned the Pointe du Hoc mission?  Why were so many destroyers/escort destroyers assigned targets that addressed neither the defensive nor offensive tasks of the bombardment?  Why did the fire support areas provide such unfavorable gun-target lines?  Why were less suitable projectiles selected?  Given these questions, it may be that the failure of the bombardment was not so much a matter of too few bombardment ships or too little time for the bombardment, as it was poor use of the assets at hand.

In the Next Installment . . .

I had planned to include a discussion of the air bombardment plan in this installment, but it quickly became clear the discussion of both the naval and air plans would take up far too much space for one installment.  So, the matter of employing strategic heavy bombers in tactical support of an amphibious landing will have to wait a week or two.  At that time, we’ll examine whether the B-24s were capable of delivering even a fraction of the ordnance that Hall and Gerow were counting on (assuming weather permitted visual bombing) or whether the entire plan was a fantasy.

Footnotes

[1] Western Naval Task Force, Allied Naval Expeditionary Force (CTF-122), Operation Plan No. 2-44.  Short Title: “ONWEST TWO.”

[2] Eleventh Amphibious Force (Task Force 122), Operation Order No. BB-44.

[3] Most of his subordinate task groups issued their orders between 27 and 31 May.

[4] TF-124, Operation Order No. BB-44, Annex E, pg. 2 and pg. 8.

[5] The coastal artillery batteries at Maisy and Grandchamps were at the far western end of the Omaha Assault Area, but these guns were oriented towards the Utah area and could not bear on the Hall’s Transport Area.

[6] US Navy F.T.P. 167, Landing Operations Doctrine, 1938, pg. 114.  The corresponding Army manual, Field Manual 31-5, Landing Operations on Hostile Shores, 1941, pg. 103, contains similar language.

[7] Ramsay’s Diary, 15 March, pg. 44

[8] In the event, one of the 105mm batteries was reserved for defending Port-en-Bessen and did not fire on Omaha’s landing beaches.

[9] Zaloga, Steven. The Devil's Garden: Rommel's Desperate Defense of Omaha Beach on D-Day Rowman & Littlefield Publishers (Kindle Edition). pg. 234.

[10] War Department Basic Field Manual, Landing Operation on Hostile Shores (FM 31-5), Washington, D.C., 1941, Chptr 6, pg. 106.  Much the same guidance was contained in the U.S. Navy’s F.T.P.-167, Landing Operations Doctrine, Washington, D.C., 1938, pg. 133.

[11] TF-124, Operation Order No. BB-44, Annex E, pg. 8.

[12] CTG 124.9 Operation Order No. B1/44, dtd 31 May 1944, pg. 4.

[13] In the wake of the disastrous E Boat attack during Exercise Tiger, the American naval leaders were highly concerned about a similar attack coming from Cherbourg during the landings.

[14] The position included at least one 37mm antiaircraft gun and would become a thorn in the side of the Ranger’s position later, but that does not change the fact that those 300 rounds of 5-inch fire would have been better employed elsewhere. 

[15] Ramsay Diary, 12 Apr, pg. 55

[16] Ramsay Diary, 18 Apr, pg. 57

[17] Commander, Gunfire Support Craft (CTF-124.8), Action Report – Operation Neptune, dtd. 3 July 1944, pg. 6.

[18] Ibid, pg. 7.

[19] There is a bit of doctrinal language problem here, as the US Navy did not consider ‘close support’ to be preparatory fire, rather a phase following the landing of the troops.  Regardless, Ramsay’s meaning is clear.

[20] ON 8 paragraph 37,

[21] Hall’s order, Annex E, pg. 7, para 3.x.(5)

[22] CTG 124.9 (Bombardment Group) Operation Order No. B1/44, dtd 31 May 1944, pg. 5, para (12)

[23] Hall’s order, Appendix 3 to Annex E, pg 17, note at end of para 1.

[24] DESRON18 (Destroyer Fire Support Group/TG 124.9.3) Operation Order No. 7-44, dtd 2 June 1944.

[25] Headquarters, 1st Infantry Division, Field Order No. 35, dtd 16 April 1944, Annex 4 (Administrative Orders, Appendix 1 (traffic Circulation Map.

[26] Ibid.  Annex 10 (Tank Employment Plan) identified only two “Special Targets” and directed one platoon of tanks to knock out each of the positions.   One of the special targets was the casemate in WN60 (but did not identify the caliber of gun within).  The other Special Target was WN74 (Pointe et Raz de la Percée). The new casemate in WN72, which would house the 88mm gun, was completely omitted.  Subsequent changes to that order did not update the intelligence or targeting.  

[27] Commander Task Force 124, Action Report – Assault on Vierville-Colleville Sector, Coast of Normandy, dtd 27 July 1944, pp. 96-7 and 103.

[28] To be more closely discussed in a following installment.

[29] Zaloga, pg. 131.

Omaha Bombardment. Part I: Setting the Stage

American Battleship USS Texas (BB-35) off Norfolk, Virginia in March 1944. The Texas was one of two WWI-era battleships assigned to Assault Force O at Omaha. She mounted ten 14-inch guns in five double turrets, and six 5-inch guns in casemate mounts. (NARA 80-G-63542)

The Failed Bombardment

One of the most infamous failures during the Omaha landings was the bombardment plan, a failure that saw infantry land in the teeth of strong defenses which had not been neutralized.  There has been no shortage of critics or shortage of criticisms of this plan.  There were not enough bombardment ships.  There was too little time for bombardment.  The bombardment relied too heavily on air power.  The bombardment counted too heavily on makeshift fire support assets.  And the list goes on. 

And honestly, there is more than a grain of truth to each of those accusations.  But what these critics—who, for the most part argued from their own single, narrow perspective—failed to consider were the constraints under which Neptune operated.  Were there too few bombardment ships?  Perhaps, but Eisenhower used all that he could wrangle from the Combined Chiefs of Staff.  Was the bombardment window too short?  Perhaps, but it was all the time that could be spared.  Was there too much reliance on airstrikes and on ‘gimmick’ fire support craft?  Perhaps, but these were necessary stopgaps to compensate for the paucity of bombardment ships.  The fact is that the Neptune planners did not accept those limitations because they mistakenly thought they were the best solutions.  No, they were accepted as the best options available in the face of limited resources, and within a unique and disadvantageous operational environment.

The stark fact is that the final bombardment concept was the product of numerous constraints and unavoidable tradeoffs with which the Neptune planners had to contend.  Many painful compromises had to be made between equally important, yet conflicting considerations.  As this series will illustrate, the bombardment would fall short at Omaha on 6 June due to several underappreciated factors which combined to produce a flawed plan and prevented effective execution of that plan.

HMS Glasgow (C21), a British Town class light cruiser assigned to Assault Force O at Omaha. She mounted twelve 6-inch guns in four triple mounts.

The Concept of the Assault

As the SHEAF command structure coalesced in the last months of 1943 and the beginning of 1944, the various new commanders began to reassess the plans left to them by LTG Frederick Morgan, who, as the Chief of Staff, Supreme Allied Commander (COSSAC) had conducted the invasion planning before General Dwight Eisenhower had been selected as the Supreme Allied Commander.  Both General Eisenhower and General Bernard Montgomery (the 21st Army Group Commander-designate) had opportunities to briefly review these plans while still assigned to the Mediterranean theater, and had independently come to the conclusion that the invasion needed to be stronger and launched across a broader front.[1]  After taking command of 21st Army Group (initially the land component of SHEAF) Montgomery formally proposed an expansion of the invasion in January, resulting adoption of the five-division plan and extension of the invasion front to include a landing on the Cotentin Peninsula (at Utah Beach, on the west side of the Vire estuary).[2]

Meanwhile doubts had been growing about the fundamental nature of the assault.  The operational environment of the Mediterranean had influenced the evolution of amphibious doctrine over the course of several landings in that theater, resulting in a technique that Admiral Bertram Ramsay (the Allied Naval Commander-in-Chief for Operation Neptune) would term the Silent Assault.  To oversimplify, this technique called for the invasion fleet to silently approach the objective area and land infantry assault waves well before dawn with little or no preparatory bombardment.  By dawn, the initial infantry waves would secure a limited beachhead against light opposition, and larger craft carrying heavier weapons would land behind them as quickly as possible.  It was a system that functioned well in areas of minimal defenses, manned by enemies not inclined to fight to the death, and in areas either isolated from reinforcements or that were difficult to reinforce.  The technique stood at virtually the polar opposite extreme of the technique generally used in the Central Pacific campaigns.  The objectives in the Central Pacific[3] were normally completely isolated, heavily defended and fanatically manned, which combined to demand extremely heavy preparatory fires, often lasting days.

GEN Morgan’s Outline Overlord Plan did not address whether the landings should be in daylight or at night,[4] but most of the key Neptune leaders had previously participated in landings in North Africa or the Mediterranean, and so brought with them to Neptune the expectation that a similar silent assault technique would be employed in Normandy. 

But the Normandy coast was neither North Africa nor the Mediterranean.   In some key respects, it was the worst case operational environment.  The beaches were much more heavily fortified and heavily manned.  That fact would normally call for serious preparatory fires before landing troops, which in turn would argue for a daylight attack.  But this consideration collided with another operational characteristic.[5] 

The extensively developed European road, rail and water networks enabled the enemy’s local reserves to be quickly committed, and similarly facilitated rapid deployment of his operational and strategic reserves from greater distances.  Thus, every minute of delay between discovery of the invasion fleet and the first troops hitting the beach gave the enemy time to reinforce.  As Samuel Elliott Morrison acknowledged in his History of United States Naval Operation in World War Two,

“They had to have tactical surprise, which a long pre-landing bombing or bombardment would have lost . . . Even a complete pulverizing of the Atlantic Wall at Omaha would have availed us nothing, if the German command had been given 24 hours' notice to move up reserves for counterattack."[6] 

This consideration called for the absolutely shortest time possible between discovery of the fleet offshore and the first troops setting foot on the beach.    

The Montcalm, one of two French La Galissonnière class light cruisers assigned to Assault Force O at Omaha. She mounted nine 6-inch guns in three triple turrets. (NARA 19-N-48998)

Perhaps the first to realize the significance of the different conditions was Ramsay.  At least he gave the impression he was.  In his diary he recorded that on 10 February 1944, he met with Montgomery to discuss the nature of the proposed landing operations.[7]  He said he convinced Montgomery the silent assault technique was wrong for Neptune, although he did not specify exactly what he proposed in its stead.  Although Montgomery had only recently arrived to assume his role, he had already pushed through his demand to expand the size of the invasion, underscoring his familiarity with the planning.  And in that process, was undoubtedly influenced by one of his subordinate commanders.

Two months earlier, on 14 December 1943, Lieutenant General John T. Crocker (Commanding General, British I Corps) had conducted an analysis of the situation which had come to much the same conclusion as Ramsay’s.  Quoting from Harrison’s Cross Channel Attack:

“The first essential, he [Crocker] said, was the development of ‘overwhelming fire support from all sources, air, naval and support craft ... to cover the final stages of the approach and to enable us to close the beaches.  This requires daylight.’  Mediterranean experience, in his view, had shown that the effectiveness of naval fire depended on observation and that it had been much greater than was previously supposed.  At least forty-five minutes of daylight, he estimated, would be necessary for full use of fire support, and he concluded that H Hour should be within one hour of first light.”[8]

That thinking was generally accepted and was incorporated into the Neptune Initial Joint Plan (issued 9 days before Ramsay’s diary entry):

“H Hour

“It is defined as the time at which the first wave of landing craft should hit the beach; which will be

“a. About l 1/2 hours after nautical twilight, and

“b. About 3 hours before high water.”[9] 

This shows that at an early point the matter had been closely studied, that there was a recognition that the Mediterranean style assault was not applicable, and that a daylight assault shortly after dawn was called for.  Over the following months, many debates would rage over the exact details, and the specific timing of H-Hour would be batted back and forth almost endlessly.  One result was a later change to the above Initial Joint Plan paragraphs which added: “so as to allow a minimum period of thirty minutes daylight for observed bombardment before H Hour.”  Nevertheless, the basic nature of the assault had been decided by 1 February.   And both the senior naval commander (Ramsay) and senior ground commander (Montgomery) were in accord.  As Ramsay stated in his report on Operation Neptune:

“7.  The one fundamental question on which there had to be early agreements was whether to assault during darkness so as to obtain the greatest measure of surprise on the beaches, or whether to assault after daylight and to rely on the greatly increased accuracy of air and naval bombardment under these conditions.  The decision which was made, to make a daylight landing, was in accord with experience in the PACIFIC against strong defenses, when the assaulting force possessed decisive naval and air superiority, and I am convinced this is the correct answer under these conditions.”[10]

So, daylight was essential to bring accurate preparatory fires to bear, yet the time to employ that fire support had to be severely curtailed in order to minimize the enemy’s opportunity to reinforce.  Striking a blance between the two imperatives would not be easy.

Nevertheless, the azimuth had been set by the leaders, and the planners set about their tasks.  Yet even as the Neptune planners came to grips with devising a new assault technique suited to the Normandy conditions, they had to contend with the longstanding shortage of naval assets.  There had been few enough ships and craft to support the original three-division assault.  Now, the expansion of the invasion to a five-division assault merely made matters much, much worse.  The original intent was that the invasion would be primarily supported by British naval forces, but this expansion demanded greater commitments from the US Navy.  And the US Navy was not receptive to any diversion of ships that would distract from its Pacific Campaign (not to mention its many other critical missions).  We’ve previously discussed the resulting shortage in shipping and landing craft, so it is no surprise that bombardment ships were in short supply as well.

As Ramsay and Montgomery were grappling with these issues a new factor had come into play. German General Erwin Rommel assumed command of Army Group B on 15 January 1944 and immediately began to strengthen the defenses.  The first indications of his impact were just being noticed by Allied intelligence in January and February, and their full implications would not be appreciated for several weeks.  The scope and speed of Rommel’s activity would be an unwelcome surprise.  The Neptune planners were struggling to cope with the challenges of the enemy defenses as they understood them in January and Februrary1944, even as the enemy was rapidly increasing the physical defenses and reinforcing those defenses with additional units.  Rommel was moving the goalposts on the invaders, and the fact is that the Neptune commanders and their staffs would be involved in a game of catch-up for the next few months.  A belated response to the multiplying obstacle fields saw the creation of the obstacle clearance plan and formation of units to execute it.  And that plan would have to be executed in the initial act of the invasion as well.

American destroyer USS Satterlee (DD-625). The Satterlee was one of nine Gleaves class fleet destroyers assigned to Assault Force O at Omaha. The Gleaves class destroyers mounted either four or five 5-inch guns in single mounts. The Satterlee is picture here in Belfast Lough three weeks before D-Day. In the background are two more Gleaves class destroyers; all three ships were part of Destroyer Squadron 18 (DESRON18). (NARA 80-G-367828)

The First 120 Minutes

A full discussion of the many factors that influenced the selection of H-Hour at Omaha is beyond the scope of this installment, but I will touch on some of the more important aspects as they related to the bombardment plan.  Essentially, the Omaha Assault Force planners (Admiral Hall’s CTF 124, working in conjunction with the Army V Corps) had to carefully orchestrate a complex sequence of actions within a roughly two hour period.  Two factors would help define the beginning of the assault window.  The first was light; specifically, the earliest time naval bombardment ships would have enough light to conduct observed fire.  Sunrise on 6 June would be at 0558 hours, and they might be able to take advantage of the last few minutes of morning civil twilight as well, especially if spotting aircraft were available.  The second factor was the tide; the Navy needed a rising tide to enable them to retract after unloading their landing craft, and low tide would be at 0530 hours.  The end of the critical window would also be dictated by the tide, and that would be when it was so far up the beach that the obstacle clearance teams would have to cease work.  That would be approximately 0800 hours.  Ideally, the obstacle clearance teams needed to land as early as possible to have the most time to do their job, but the first wave of infantry had to go in before the obstacle teams, and the earlier they went in, the more open sand they would have to cross under fire.  Potentially this could be as much as 350 yards, which would be suicidal.  So, the first wave could not go in too early.  As a result of all these factors (and many more) a critical window of roughly two hours was established for the start of the landings: 0558 hours (sunrise) to 0800 hours (the tide amid the obstacles). And in the middle of everything that had to take place in those two hours, the planners needed to squeeze in 45 minutes for air and naval bombardment, a figure that carried forward from Crocker’s analysis.  As you can see, the final landing schedule entailed a series of cruel tradeoffs between equally vital but usually incompatible considerations.   

To no one’s complete satisfaction, H-Hour was set at 0630 hours.  However, it is important to keep this in context.  Each and every H-Hour decision is a matter of compromising between the needs of different elements of the attack force.  The more complex the operation is—and Neptune was about as complex as they come—the more tradeoffs are necessary.  Having said that, it was clear it would be a rough two hours at Omaha.

The bottom line, as far as the bombardment mission was concerned came down, to 32 minutes between sunrise (0558 hours) and H-Hour (0630 hours).  Hall’s planners moved the start of that window forward to 0550 hours, counting on the growing visibility at the end of civil twilight, and that was as close to Crocker’s 45 minutes as could be managed. 

[As difficult as the conditions were for 6 June, it should be noted that H-Hour on the original invasion date, 5 June, was 20 minutes earlier, at 0610 hours.  That would have meant most of the bombardment would have been conducted during insufficient light, likely resulting in less damage to the defenses and far higher casualties among the assault troops.]

The British escort destroyer HMS Tallybont, one of three Hunt Class (Type III) escort destroyers assigned to Assault Force O. These Hunt class escort destroyers mounted four 4-inch guns in two twin turrets.

Too Few Guns

Ideally, if you have less time to fire your preparatory bombardment (and Hall had not been happy with the 45 minutes he did have), you want to increase the number of guns firing in order to deliver the required metal on target.  But, as noted above, Neptune as a whole was being conducted on something of a naval shoestring, and this held true for bombarding assets as well.  Bombarding types of ships (destroyers, cruisers and battleships) were at a premium, especially with the US Navy, which was husbanding its fleets for Pacific campaigns.  The British were no less reluctant to take capital ships from the Home Fleet, which was standing guard in case of a sortie by the remaining German capital ships.[11]  To address this shortfall, in late December 1943, RADM Kirk (commanding the Western Naval Task Force - TF 122) sent Washington a list of requirements for bombardment ships; no action was taken.  After the expansion of the assault to the five-division plan the following month, the deficit widened and pressure mounted for a greater US Navy contribution.  The matter came to a head on 13 February at a dinner being held in conjunction with a conference to iron out landing craft allocations.  RADM Cooke (chief planner for the US Navy’s Commander in Chief, ADM King) was present when Hall exploded in frustration over the lack of bombardment ships.  Cooke reprimanded Hall for the outburst, but he also saw to it that three old US battleships and a squadron of nine US destroyers were provided.[12] 

Initially, bombardment ships for Omaha, as allocated in Ramsay’s naval orders for Operation Neptune (ON 8, issued 14 April 1944, dealt with bombardment) amounted to:  one heavy cruiser, five light cruisers and an unspecified portion of 22 destroyers and escort destroyers.  (See Figure 1).  It wasn’t much.  By comparison, the US pre-war amphibious doctrine called for a bombardment force of three battleships, four light cruisers and 8-16 destroyers for an assault the size of the Omaha landings.[13]  As measured by this doctrinal template, Omaha was under-supported when it came to naval bombardment.

A week later, RADM Kirk’s Western Naval Task Force (CTF 122) operation order was issued, and it reflected Cooke’s reinforcements, which were split between Omaha and Utah Assault Areas.[14]  For Omaha, two battleships had been substituted for one heavy and two light cruisers (the third battleship Cooke had secured went to Utah Beach).  The loss of three cruisers (nine 8-inch guns, sixteen 5.25-inch guns and eight 5-inch guns) for the gain of two old battleships (ten 14-inch guns, twelve 12-inch guns and twelve 5 inch guns) apparently suited Hall, an old battleship admiral.  He gained heavier guns in his primary batteries and increased his secondary batteries by 50%.  The punch these old WWI-era battleships offered was very welcome.

Figure 1. A comparison of the original bombardment ships allocated to the Omaha Assault Force under ON 8 and the final allocation as shown in the CTF 122 operation Plan.

What was perhaps less welcome in this new ship allocation was the assignment of the Royal Navy Hunt class escort destroyers.  The US fleet destroyers were of the Gleaves class, which mounted either four or five 5-inch guns.  The Hunt class escort destroyers mounted four 4-inch guns.[15]  The 4-inch gun was not a bad weapon, and in fact, at 102mm was comparable in caliber to the 105mm howitzer that was the standard US divisional artillery weapon.  But besides the smaller gun, the Hunts carried fewer rounds per gun than the Gleaves (250 vs 400).[16] 

Figure 2 details the gunpower these ships mounted for naval bombardment.

Figure 2. A summary of the type and number of bombardment guns available on the battleships, cruisers and destroyers allocated to the Omaha Assault Force.

One hundred and fifteen guns sound like an impressive number, but was it an adequate number to get the job done?  As we’ll see, that answer depended on how you define the job, and which part of the doctrinal template you chose to apply. 

Two other points factor into that question, as well.  First, not all of these guns would be available for softening up the beach.  A significant percentage of them would be dedicated to counter-battery fire against enemy coastal artillery batteries, such as those on Pointe du Hoc and at Port en Bessin.  Second, six of the 5” guns, mounted in the battleships‘ secondary batteries, would be on the unengaged sides of the ships, and not be able to bear on a target.  So, the total of 5” guns, as shown in Figure 2, would be reduced by 12% to 44 guns.

Hall’s Force O (Omaha) was fortunate in one small respect.  All of his US ships had arrived in the UK by 28 April, in sufficient time to prepare for D-Day, unlike at least one division destined for Utah that barely arrived in time.  Information is scarce about participation of the US destroyers and battleships in Exercise Fabius I, the final D-Day exercise.  It is known that USS Thompson did participate, and that tends to indicate the rest of Destroyer Squadron 18 (DESRON18), the formation these destroyers belonged to) did as well.  After that exercise, DESRON18 held about a week of additional gunnery exercises.  This training was no doubt valuable.  Although all the DESRON18 destroyers had been in commission for over a year, they had primarily been tasked with convoy support missions.  D-Day would be their first combat experience in shore bombardment.  Although unbloodied and new to the shore bombardment role, there was no reason to doubt their ability.

The situation with the battleships is not entirely clear.  In his Action Report on Operation Neptune, RADM Bryant (commanding Battleship Division 5, and within TF-124 framework he commanded CTF 124.9, which was the Bombardment Group) discussed bombardment training after arriving in the UK, but nothing in the area of the Fabius Exercise, likely due to the limited live fire ranges at the rehearsal area.  The Texas had already seen combat during WWII, starting with Operation Torch.  The Arkansas, which had spent the bulk of the war either as a training ship or on escort duty, had yet to fire a gun in anger in this war.  

Supplementary Efforts

Clearly, more gunfire support was needed.  To complement and reinforce the usual bombardment battleships, cruisers and destroyers, a number of other craft would provide supporting fires.  Some of these were ad hoc solutions, some were systems new to the theater and not well understood, and some were such wild ideas that RADM Hall would dismiss them as gimmicks. 

The first group in this category were the Duplex Drive (DD) tanks.  Although part of the Gunfire Support Group (as distinct for the Bombardments Group consisting of the ‘real’ bombarding battleships, cruisers and destroyers), they would play no role in the preparatory bombardment; their role was to support the leading assault waves after landing.  For that reason, and since I have discussed them thoroughly in an earlier blog series, I will skip over them here.

The second element consisted of thirty-two Sherman tanks (and 16 tank dozers) that would ride in on 16 LCTs to beach at H-hour.  At the front of these LCTs (either LCT(A)s or LCT(HE)s) wooden platforms had been installed which raised the two front Shermans high enough to fire over the ramps.  During the run into the beach, these tanks would provide “drenching fire” that hopefully would suppress the defenders as the first two waves landed (the first infantry wave and the gap clearance teams).  As such, their role in the bombardment plan was marginal, and I’ll only lightly touch on them in the rest of this series.

The next group consisted of the Landing Craft, Tanks (Rocket) (LCT(R)s), which were LCTs fitted out with approximately a thousand 5-inch rockets.  Following at a distance behind the first wave, these craft would loose their rockets so that they would impact when the first wave was 300 yards offshore.  The desired impact area was supposed to be 200 yards deep and 400-700 yards wide (for an impressive theoretical density of one rocket for every 80 to 140 square yards).  There were nine of these craft for Omaha.

There would also be five Landing Craft, Gun (Large) (LCG(L)), each equipped with two 4.7” guns (120mm). These craft were to operate close inshore and were assigned to engage specific targets on the beach during the last 10 minutes before H-Hour.

The next fire support category is perhaps a measure of how desperate they were to scrape up additional fire support.  The 58th and 62nd Armored Artillery Battalions were equipped with M7 Priest self-propelled artillery vehicles, each mounting a 105mm howitzer.  The 36 howitzers of these battalions would be mounted in 10 LCTs, and fire from those craft over the heads of the first waves.  The LCTs were not stable gunnery platforms, and they would have to maintain about a 4-6 knot speed to minimize rolling and plunging.  Gunnery under those conditions would be challenging to say the least, with changes in range requiring constantly updated firing data.  Still . . . thirty-six 105mm howitzers were the theoretical equivalent firepower of nine additional Hunt class escort destroyers, and that was potentially a significant addition for a task force that considered itself starved for gunnery ships.  At least it would be if there was some way to ensure their rounds landed somewhere close to the intended targets.  In reality, they were expected to provide nothing more than what one would charitably describe as general area suppressive fire, if one wasn’t too particular about which area would actually be hit.

Also used were class 461 patrol craft (174 feet long, 280 tons and a crew of 65) which served as the primary control craft for various beach sectors.  There were 6 of these, each mounting a single 3-inch gun, and each was assigned a specific target.[17] 

One other category of craft would provide suppressive fire, though these were so small they were not even assigned targets in the bombardment plan.  These were 21 Landing Craft, Support (Small), or (LCS(S)).  Equipped with machine guns and 48 rockets, they would accompany the leading waves to beach and provide the last second suppressive fire for their accompanying landing craft.

It would appear everything that could be reasonably done to supplement the bombardment mission (and some that may not have been quite so reasonable) had been thrown into the mix.  Hall, the old battleship sailor, quite naturally bemoaned having to employ such a ragtag force, but given his shortage of ‘real’ bombarding ships he had no choice.

B-24 heavy bombers, such as this one, were incorporated into the bombardment plan for Omaha Beach.

Air Bombardment

Various air operations were mounted in support of Operation Neptune involving all manner of aircraft. For the purpose of this discussion, we’ll focus on the heavy bombers, whose primary mission had been strategic bombing, but had been incorporated into the tactical bombardment of the assault areas on D-Day. These bombers had two roles.  During the hours of darkness, early on D-Day, night bombers would attack the German coastal artillery batteries flanking the beach, in the vicinity of Pointe du Hoc to the west and Port en Bessin to the east.  The second role, commencing shortly after sunrise, was to strike the beach defenses.  Approximately 329 B-24 bombers of the Eighth Air Forces’ 2nd Bombardment Division would strike the beach defenses in the Omaha Assault Area at the same time as the naval bombardment. [18]  As impressive as that number is, the amount of their bombs that could reasonably be expected to actually hit the beach defenses—even had the weather been perfect—was far less than is generally realized.  In the next installment we’ll examine this point in more detail.  For now, suffice it to say that even had the air bombardment gone as planned, its actual potential effect on the beach defenses has been greatly overstated.

The Purpose of Bombardment – Destruction or Neutralization?

Even as Ramsay, Hall and the other naval leaders were trying to obtain additional bombardment assets, they were embroiled in another debate involving the basic question of what exactly was the purpose of the bombardment.  To be more precise, what effect was the bombardment expected to achieve?  The general statement of ‘pave the way for the assaulting troops’ meant nothing in a tactical sense.

The two camps in this debate were those who believed the bombardment must achieve destruction of the enemy defenses (or at least a substantial portion of them), and those who felt that goal was not possible, and believed neutralization of the enemy defenses was all that was practical. To quote the US Navy’s Landing Operations Doctrine (F.T.P. 167):

1. Neutralization.--Neutralization fire is area fire delivered for the purpose of causing severe losses, hampering or interrupting movement or action and, in general, to destroy the combat efficiency of enemy personnel. In the usual case, neutralization is only temporary and the target becomes active soon after fire ceases. Neutralization is accomplished by short bursts of fire of great density to secure the advantage and effect of shock and surprise. Most targets engaged by naval gunfire will be of the type for which neutralization is appropriate.

2. Destruction--The term is applied to fire delivered for the express purpose of destruction and when it is reasonable to expect that relatively complete destruction can be attained. Destruction should be attempted only under favorable conditions of target designation and observation.[19]

A good example of the proponents for the destruction school of thought was MG Charles Corlett.  Corlett had served in the Pacific, commanding first the Kiska Task Force, and then the 77th Division during the assault on Kwajalein.  He was then brought to the European Theater and given command of the XIXth Corps, which was scheduled to land on Omaha Beach shortly after D-Day.  After the mistakes at Tarawa, much greater emphasis was given to preparatory bombardment for the Kwajalein landings, and Corlett believed the lessons he’d learned in that operation were ignored in the run-up to the Normandy landings.  But those lessons were largely not applicable.  At Kwajalein, Corlett had been able to secure a number of small islets close to the main objective and landed forty-eight 105mm howitzers and twelve 155 howitzers—his entire division artillery—on one of them. All while four battleships, two cruisers and 4 destroyers bombarded Kwajalein throughout the day of D-1.  Harassing fires were maintained through the night by both the Army and the Navy (battleships Idaho, New Mexico, cruiser San Francisco and their destroyer screen).  A large scale bombardment incorporating all arms was conducted the next day in support of the main landings on Kwajalein itself.

There are few, if any, relevant lessons here for the Normandy landings.  Corlett didn’t have to worry about the possibility of Japanese reinforcing divisions—to include perhaps a panzer division or two—rolling up while he took a day for preliminary operations.  He didn’t have to worry about nearby E-Boat or U-Boat bases or Japanese air formations stationed within range.  He was able to outflank the Japanese seaward defenses by landing from the less defended lagoon side.  And Kwajalein was only 2.5 miles long and 800 yards wide, flat, lacking beach obstacles and mostly lacking vegetation.  And it still took him longer to secure the island than it would take to secure the equivalent beach area at Omaha.

The comparison really falls apart when one considers the preparation.  The Kwajalein naval bombardment totaled something less than 7,000 rounds during D-Day, most of which were fired during the beach preparatory bombardment.  The Omaha Beach bombardment was scheduled to deliver 6,297 rounds for the preparatory bombardment alone.  So, despite having more and heavier naval gunfire for Kwajalein, the planned Omaha bombardment was effectively equivalent, if not perhaps even greater.  The real difference was not so much the naval bombardment, but the support provided from Corlett’s own Army guns.  The 60 howitzers that were landed the previous day consisted of the entire 77th Division Artillery.  And those 60 guns—whose accuracy had the advantage of solid ground, not rolling ships—fired 29,000 rounds during Kwajalein’s D-Day.[20]  At Omaha there was no convenient island to preposition Army firepower, and even if there had been, there was no time to emplace it or fire a prolonged barrage.  The Pacific model simply did not fit.

Corlett was an excellent general, and did a fine job commanding the XIXth Corps, so much so that he was later transferred back to the Pacific to command another corps for the planned invasion of Japan.  But in pressing for a Pacific-style bombardment, he’d brought the wrong experience to the Normandy operational environment.  He was bitter at the way he perceived his advice was ignored within SHAEF, but his advice was wrong.

Despite the inapplicability of the Kwajalein model, RADM Hall nevertheless embraced it to support his position:

“Using Kwajelein [sic] as a basis for a rough comparison, and disregarding other considerations, the landing of four times the number of troops against three time the defensive strength would call for an amount of naval gunfire support at Omaha many time greater than that employed at Kwajelein.  Yet the weight of metal delivered at Omaha defenses was one-third that used at Kwajelein . . . Though the amount of naval gunfire to be delivered in a given situation cannot be arrived at mathematically, and though naval gunfire alone will not necessarily insure a successful landing . . . the foregoing rough comparative figures will serve to substantiate the conclusion that Omaha Beaches during the pre-landing phase, not enough naval gunfire was provided.”[21]

Probably the best proponent of the neutralization school of thought was Ramsay himself.  He was influenced in this matter by a report titled "Fire Support of Sea-Borne Landings Against a Heavily Defended Coast” (the so-called Graham Report).[22]  Although Graham was a Royal Air Force officer and his report focused primarily on the air contribution, it provided two insights that would largely govern the naval bombardment plan as well. 

“a. Casemated batteries probably could not be destroyed by bombardment, but could be sufficiently neutralized to render them acceptably ineffective until the army could capture them. The report also calculated in detail the weight of fire required to do this.
“b. Beach defenses could best be neutralized by "beach drenching," which would force the defender underground and numb his mind and nerves. Aimed fire in the dust and smoke of battle would be less likely to accomplish this.” [23]

In other words, direct hits on individual bunkers, weapons positions and concrete troop shelters were highly unlikely with any reasonably sized naval bombarding force, so the emphasis should be on the more achievable goal of neutralization.  (Graham’s final sentence in that quote would prove prophetic.)

This thinking was translated into Ramsay’s ANCEX orders. 

“2.  The object of the naval bombardment is to assist in ensuring the safe and timely arrival of our forces by the engagement of hostile coast defenses, and to support the assault and subsequent operations ashore.

“This will involve the following tasks:

“(a)  Neutralization of coast defence and inland batteries capable of bringing fire to bear on the assault beaches or sea approaches until each battery is captured or destroyed,

“(b)  Neutralization or destruction of beach defenses during the final approach and assault.”[24]

While the wording of this order included the term ‘destruction’, any such results would be incidental, and they were not to be counted on.

This focus was rooted in a firm grasp of reality.  Not only was there not time available for a more comprehensive bombardment, but a significant portion of the available firepower could not be dedicated to shelling the beach defenses.  As paragraph (a) of the above quote specified, the bombarding ships also had the defensive mission to neutralize any coastal artillery positions that might threaten the landing.  And that requirement would demand a large portion of the cruisers’ and battleships’ firepower.  At Omaha, for instance, the Texas fired not a single 14-inch projectile on the principal beach landing sectors during the preparatory bombardment; every single one of the 262 14-inch rounds allotted for its preparatory bombardment was targeted on or near the coastal artillery battery at Pointe du Hoc.  Similarly, the entire firepower of one of the three cruisers was dedicated to neutralizing German guns in the vicinity of Port en Bessins.[25]     

In fact, battleships were allocated specifically on the basis of the number of key coastal artillery batteries that threatened an assault area, and Omaha had just two: Pointe du Hoc, and Longues-sur-Mer - and the latter was within the Gold Assault Area and was to be targeted by a capital ship belonging to the Gold Assault Force.  So, this interpretation of the doctrinal template did not indicate Omaha was under-supported in battleships or cruisers

Ramsay’s objective of neutralization focused on what he thought was possible, and in this he was supported by the very same FTP-167 that Hall had selectively cited.   That publication specified that a four- or five-gunned 5-inch destroyer could neutralize a 200 yard by 200 yard area with 80 rounds of rapid fire.  Further, it could neutralize six such targets an hour.  As the bombardment period was scheduled for 40 minutes, each destroyer should have been able to neutralize four targets.  But no destroyer at Omaha was assigned four targets.  One destroyer was assigned to just a single target, most were assigned just two targets, and only one was assigned three targets.  The destroyers should have had ample time and ammunition to neutralize their assigned targets.  A similar analysis for the cruisers produces the same results.  Glasgow, for instance, was assigned two targets within 200 yards of each other (its area of coverage for a twelve-gun broadside was 300 yards by 300 yards), and the ship was allotted more than three times the doctrinal number of rounds necessary to neutralize those targets.  So, a persuasive argument can be made that there was not in fact a shortage of bombardment ships at Omaha.  The fact that none of these targets was actually neutralized by the D-Day preparatory bombardment suggests we need to examine whether there were shortfalls in how the bombardment was executed, as opposed to faulting the number of ships available.

In the next installment, I will examine the actual bombardment plan, illustrate how it was organized and show how the targets selected for the various supporting ships would combine to (hopefully) create a fully integrated neutralization of the defenses at key locations across the length of Omaha Beach.  In the third installment I will examine how well that plan was executed, and how it fell short.

Concluding Thoughts

One of the continuing themes of this Omaha Beach Series has been that Neptune was under-resourced, and that chronic lack of resources affected how the operation was executed and how well it succeeded.  In the matter of the bombardment mission, this theme is not as applicable as I initially thought.  Yes, one reading of the amphibious doctrinal template definitely called for more bombardment ships and greater time for the bombardment.  But the one true limiting criterion was the time allocated for the bombardment, and that was dictated by hard realities.  The debate of neutralization vs destruction was fruitless, as destruction simply could not be achieved within a timeframe suited to the operational environment. 

Further, even if RADM Hall had been allotted more bombardment ships, there is a real question as to whether he could have employed them profitably in the crowded fire support areas.  As we’ll see in a later installment, some of the ships he did have were not used to their full extent due to other bombardment ships masking their gun-target lines. 

Any commander with any common sense instinctively wants more combat power, especially fire support, but few ever get what they want.  Or even need.  The mark of a good commander is how well he employs the fire support he does have.  And that’s the question we will pursue in the following installments: was the bombardment plan for Omaha as efficient as it reasonably could have been, and did its execution on 6 June live up to its objectives.

Finally, I want to stress once again that simplistic analyses continue to grossly misrepresent how the plan developed.  An example is this quote from a 1998 US Naval Institute article:   

“It is more accurate to state that the Allied leaders and planners of the Normandy invasion did not display the level of professionalism expected this late in the war. For the Normandy invasion, the Allied commanders ignored tested doctrine and thus ignored the cumulative body of knowledge in amphibious operations gained through hard-fought battles in North Africa, Sicily, and Tarawa. Montgomery and Bradley used an unproved means to deliver the vast majority of the combat power needed to overcome the defense. They failed to trouble-shoot their primary plan—air power—and to fully a back-up plan [sic]—naval gunfire, and so, the Allied plan failed at the most heavily defended beach.“[26]

That passage is particularly objectionable as it placed the entire blame for the naval bombardment on two Army officers, completely ignoring the fact that naval bombardment was, obviously, a naval responsibility, and the bombardment plan was written by naval staffs and approved by naval commanders.  Indeed, the landings were commanded by naval officers, with Army commanders in subordinate positions. Given this, it’s hard to believe the author chose to completely ignore the role of Ramsay in the Neptune planning, or the US Navy’s role in allocating bombardment ships.  This is not to deny army involvement, for of course it was a joint operation, and ground commanders presented considerations that had to be factored into the many painful trade-off decisions.  But to place all the blame on Montgomery and Bradley is patently absurd.

So too was that the comment that Bradley and Montgomery “ignored the cumulative body of knowledge” gained in the course of Mediterranean operations.  They didn’t use many of the Mediterranean (or Pacific) techniques simply because: 1) they didn’t have the naval combat power necessary; or 2) the operational characteristics of the Normandy coast made those techniques either irrelevant or extremely dangerous to the chances of success.

The author is marginally more on point when he says they failed to trouble-shoot their primary plan and have some sort of backup plan in case the air support failed.  Ideally, that’s a very good point, and all good plans should have such contingencies.  But it is one thing to hurl that doctrinal accusation, and quite another to imagine what possible contingency plan was feasible.  Could they magically draw on three or four more battleships when, at H-15, the bombers hadn’t arrived?  Did they have the option to delay the Omaha landings – and only the Omaha landings - until better weather showed up?  No.  Of course not.  Such criticism is meaningless if there is no better alternative.

The weather for Neptune was a gamble.  A famous one.  A dangerous one.  And while it had tragic consequences for the landings at Omaha Beach and the airdrops of the 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions, it also ensured priceless surprise across all the assault areas, from the tactical level through the strategic level.  The weather that foiled the air support at Omaha also permitted the vast invasion fleet, sailing from dozens of ports, to miraculously arrive off the beaches undetected.  And that surprise worked in the favor of the Omaha landings.

Rare is the commander who has the luxury of ample assets for an operation.  At Omaha, no more ships were to be had.  No more time was available.  And the weather was beyond anyone’s control.  ADM Hall had what he had to work with.  It’s as simple as that.  The question before us in the next installment is, how well did Hall use the assets he was provided?

[1] Pogue, Forest, United States Army in World War II, The European Theater of Operations: The Supreme Command (CMH Publication 5-6), Center of Military History, United States Army, Washington, D.C., 1989, pg. 108.

[2] An additional invasion area was also added in the Eastern Naval Task Force sector.

[3] As opposed to GEN MacArthur’s Southwest Pacific theater, where the geography generally enabled the selection of generally lightly held or undefended beaches.

[4] Harrison, Gordon, Cross Channel Attack, Center of Military History, U.S. Army, Washington, D.C. 1993, pg. 73.

[5] This is not to overlook several important advantages the theater offered, such as being within fighter range of the UK, the relatively short distances between staging bases in the UK and the invasion beach, and many others.

[6] Samuel Eliot Morison, History of United States Naval Operation in World War Two, Vol XI, The Invasion of France and Germany 1944-1945, Little, Brown, and Co., Boston, 1957. P. 152-3.

[7] Love, Robert and Major, John, editors, The Year of D-Day; The 1944 Diary of Admiral Sir Bertram Ramsay, The University of Hull Press, 1994, pg. 24.

[8] Harrison, pg. 189.

[9] Neptune, Initial Joint Plan, (NJC 1004), dtd 1 Feb 1944, see Section V, Assault Phase.

[10] Ramsay, Bertram, Report by the Allied Naval Commander-in-Chief Expeditionary Force on Operation Neptune, pg. 6 (covering letter).

[11] Morison, pp 55-56.

[12] Godson, Susan, Viking of Assault; Admiral John Lesslie Hall, Jr., and Amphibious Warfare,1982, University Press of America, pg. 124.

[13] Department of the Navy, F.T.P. 167, Landing Operations Doctrine, 1938, US Government Printing Office, pg. 122.

[14] CTF-122 Operation Plan No. 2-44, dtd 21 April 1944, Task Organization.

[15] As the primary mission of these escort destroyers was to protect convoys from submarines, their main battery did not require larger guns.  In a similar vein, many of the US destroyer escorts were armed with 3-inch guns.

[16] CTF-122 Operation Plan No. 2-44, dtd 21 April 1944, Appendix 1 to Annex D.  See also ANCX Naval Operation Orders for Operation Neptune, ON 8, Appendix III.

[17] The 3-inch gun is small by naval standards, but with a bore of 76mm, it compared favorably with the 75mm guns mounted on the Sherman tanks.  The 3-inch guns that made up the tertiary batteries of the battleships also would provide good service on D-Day. Although not incorporated into the bombardment plan.

[18] Hennessy, Juliette, US Air Force Historical Study No. 70; Tactical Operations of the Eighth Air Force, 6 June 1944 – 8 May 1945, USAF Historical Division, Air University, 1952, pg. 25. There are conflicting reports on this number, and the matter will be examined further in the next installment.

[19] Landing Operations Doctrine, United States Navy F.T.P. 167, 1938, Ch V.

[20] Crowl, P and Love, E, United States Army in World War II, The War in the Pacific: Seizure of the Gilberts and Marshalls (CMH Publication 5-6), Office of the Chief of Military History, Department of the Army, Washington, D.C., 1955.  Chapter XIV, pg. 231.

[21] COMINCH P-006, Amphibious Operations, Invasion of Northern France, Western Task Force, June 1944, pg. 2-27

 [22] See Ramsay’s Report by the Allied Naval Commander in Chief, Expeditionary Force on Operation ‘Neptune’, dtd October 1944.  Vol I, Annex 5, pg. 64

[23] United States Naval Administration in World War II. United States Naval Forces, Europe. Volume V, Operation NEPTUNE - The Invasion of Normandy, 1948, pg. 489

[24] Allied Naval Commander in Chief, “Expeditionary Force, Operation Neptune, Naval Operations Orders,” dtd 10 April 1944, pg. 124.

[25] And that was just what the plan anticipated.  In the event even more firepower was required for Port en Bessin.

[26] Lewis, Adrian, The Navy Falls Short at Normandy, US Naval Institute History, Dec 1998, Vol 12, Number 6.

The Duplex Drive Tanks of Omaha Beach, Part (f) Conclusions and Final Thoughts

The saga of the Omaha Duplex Drive tanks is in many ways symbolic of Operation Neptune itself.  The need for these tanks was a direct result of the alliance’s strategic dilemma: despite nominally giving the invasion high priority, it was unable or unwilling to commit sufficient naval assets to the task.  One of the results of this mismatch between strategic lines of effort and force priorities was the critical shortage of bombardment ships for Neptune.  The eventual solution was to seize on an experimental concept, throw it in on the first wave of the assault, and hope for the best.

On the one hand we see in this the genius of innovation, flexibility and industrial brute force, all key components of the eventual Allied victory.  The fact that the industrial base could convert 200 Sherman tanks into duplex drive variants and ship them to the United Kingdom in a matter of just a couple months was an astounding feat (not to overlook the conversions being produced in the UK).  But that kind of improvisation often contains the seeds of failure, usually in the form of inadequate engineering or inadequate production quality.  And so it was here.  The design of the duplex drive kit was so immature that the first thing they had to do when they reached the United Kingdom was apply fixes to the struts to keep them from collapsing.  Given the brutal nature of the English Channel, that ‘fix’ would fall short.

An Extract from Commander, 3rd Armored Group memo to MG Huebner, Commander, 1st Infantry Division, addressing DD tank training. This paragraph highlights the deficiencies of the newly arrived duplex drive Sherman conversions.

And that illustrates the leitmotif which wove through the Neptune planning.  It was in many ways characterized by a large scale effort to improvise solutions to problems which sprung, as often as not, from poor strategic planning and the enemy’s refusal to passively await a beating.  In virtually every category, the planners were scrambling to find the means to achieve the ends.  Bombardment ships, landing ships, landing craft, escorts, minesweepers, transport aircraft for airdrops - all were critical shortages.  Sometimes units or materiel were found to fill the gap, but these were usually ad hoc, untested or ill-trained.  And too often the invasion had to make do despite the shortages.

It is important, however, to keep this in context.  War-by-alliance is a difficult endeavor, especially one being fought across the entire globe in numerous theaters, each with its own unique demands, and all clamoring for a share of vast, yet limited resources.  The point of the preceding paragraphs is to highlight the limitations which hampered the planning and execution of D-Day.  It is not intended to lodge a blanket indictment of LTG Morgan’s COSSAC or GEN Eisenhower’s SHAEF.  Nor is it intended to criticize the wisdom of the Combined Chiefs of Staff or the political leadership of the allied nations.  Certainly, individual decisions by each and every one of those bodies can be questioned, and sometimes, as they say, ‘mistakes were made.’

But that isn’t the point.  All war is characterized by friction, inadequate resources, tradeoffs and sub-optimal solutions (the least bad options).  Operation Neptune was no different.  And despite the challenges and near chaos, it did succeed.  Not as cleanly or easily as planned (or hoped), but assaults on defended shores seldom are.

The question here, however, is how effective were the commanders, their staffs and the executing units in coping with the limitations to make it all work.  In some cases it was a matter of doing a familiar mission, but with green, perhaps ill-trained, units.  In other cases, it was making the best of the least bad alternative.  Which brings us back to the DD tanks.  A new ‘gimmick’, inadequately designed and tested, hurriedly produced, not well suited for the waters in which it was to operate - yet necessary, if not vital, for want of a better solution.  They were indeed the least bad solution.  But that didn’t make them the wrong solution.

So, it is now time to recap the preceding five installments with an eye on how well each echelon addressed, helped or hindered the effort to land 64 swimming Sherman tanks on Omaha Beach at 10 minutes before H-Hour.

What I hope I have provided in this series is the most comprehensive body of research on the DD tank effort to date, as well as a detailed analysis of that information.   To repeat a caution from an earlier installment, the saga of the DD tanks is so thoroughly replete with conflicting reports and questionable firsthand accounts that any conclusion depends entirely on which imperfect source you reject, and which you decide to accept.  Others will no doubt weigh the sources differently and come to different conclusions.  What follows represents my evaluation after more than a year’s study of the topic.

Two of three DD tanks landed directly on Easy Red Beach Sector by Ensign Henry Sullivan’s LCT-600. Photo by Robert Capa.

The 6,000 Yard Line.

One of the more curious aspects of the DD tanks saga was the disregard paid to the advice of the two men who had become experts in their use.  After conducting an intense six-week training course for DD tanks and LCTs, Lt.(jg) Dean Rockwell and MAJ William Duncan were as much of experts on the matter as anyone else in Western Naval Task Force.  Duncan ran the school to train the DD tankers and Rockwell’s LCTs supported the training.  At the end of that training program, both men submitted reports. Rockwell noted that DD tanks “can be launched 3-4,000 yards from shore and reach a specified beach.” [1]  Duncan noted that the tanks had been launched from as far out as 6,000 yards, but also noted that in launches of more than 4,000 yards out, six cases of non-fatal carbon monoxide poisoning occurred.[2] He therefore recommended they “not be launched more than 4,000 yards from the beach.”

Having received recommendations from their own designated experts, the powers that be ignored that advice and decided the appropriate launching distance would be 50% to 100% farther than recommended.  They would launch at 6,000 yards.

In deciding this, they not only disregarded the advice of their own ‘experts’, they acted counter to their own best judgements.  After the failures of D-Day, key naval figures were quick to claim they had always thought the DD tanks were a hairbrained idea.  RADM Hall is perhaps the most notable among this crowd.  Yet despite those supposed misgivings, they directed the launching of the ‘unseaworthy’ DD tanks at distances far greater than recommended.  Their supposedly strong misgivings were so far at variance with what they directed in their orders that one must doubt whether those misgivings were authentic, or were merely post-debacle attempts to distance themselves from the consequences of their own orders.

The unfortunate fact is that there is no indication as to who was the original father of this decision.  The highest level order citing that distance was RADM Kirk’s order for the Western Naval Task Force, however similar guidance was in effect at every beach, whether American, British or Canadian (at the British and Canadian beaches, the launch line was even farther out – 7,000 yards).[3]  This would seem to indicate the policy came from Admiral Ramsey or even General Montgomery.  Yet there is no record of any such order coming from either man. 

There may have been grounds for this 6,000 yard decision.  The fear of enemy coastal artillery may have imposed this caution; after all, launching required the LCTs to remain almost stationary, making for an easier target at closer ranges.[4]  This possibility is underscored by the fact that at the British and Canadian beaches, instructions were not only to launch the DD tanks at 7,000 yards, but be prepared to launch them from even farther out if under fire from shore batteries. 

Nevertheless, the 6,000 yard line stands at the apex of the DD tank fault pyramid, not necessarily because of the degree of the ensuing damage it may have caused, but because it so perfectly illustrates the lack of common sense brought to bear on this matter.

A Cascading Series of Errors

At Omaha, the confusion started with RADM Hall and subsequently infected all lower echelons.  It began with Hall’s initial decision for apportioning responsibility.  COL Severne MacLaughlin (Commander, 3rd Armored Group, the parent headquarters for both the 741st and 743rd Tank Battalions) reported Hall’s initial plan was for MG Gerow to make the decision if the weather was bad.[5]  (Gerow, the V Corps Commander, would be with Hall aboard his command ship the USS Ancon, 23,000 yards offshore in the Transport Area.)  In other words, Hall tried to remove himself completely from the matter. 

Recognizing this was entirely unsatisfactory, MG Bradley (commanding the First U.S. Army) sent his letter to RADM Kirk, insisting on two points:  1) that the decision be made by the Assault Force Commander, with advice from the Landing Force Commander; and 2) that the decision should not be delegated to individual craft level.  Although RADM Kirk changed his order (CTF 122) to allow breaking radio silence prior to H-Hour to facilitate such a decision, Hall rejected the idea in his own order.  As far as can be determined, no answer on the record was provided in response to Bradley’s letter, and there is scanty and conflicting documentation on Hall’s decision on the matter before 6 June 1944. 

In the wake of the confusion of responsibility on D-Day, Hall belatedly penned an apologia in his 22 September endorsement of Rockwell’s report.  In it he attempted to show that he had provided clear guidance on the launch-or-land decision.

“2.  The question as to who should decide whether to launch DD tanks was discussed at length by the Assault Force Commander with the Commanding General, Fifth Corps, U.S. Army and the Commanding General, First Infantry Division, U.S. Army.  For the following reasons it was agreed that the decision should be left to the Senior Army Officer and the Senior Naval Officer of each of the two LCT units carrying DD Tanks:

“(a)  They had more experience than any other officers in the Assault Force in swimming off DD Tanks from LCTs.

“(b)  The decision should be made by someone actually on the spot where the launching was to take place and embarked on an LCT rather than on a large vessel.  A decision under such conditions should be sounder than one made on a large vessel miles away where the sea conditions might have been much different.

“(c)  If a decision were to be made elsewhere and action had to await an order, confusion and delay might result in the absence of such an order, and it was anticipated that communications might be disrupted by the enemy action so that it would be impossible to transmits orders by radio.

“NOTE:  The two unit commanders were to inform each other by radio of the decision reached.”[6]

It is impossible to miss the unintended irony in the concluding note, given the fear of enemy jamming in the preceding paragraph. 

In military vernacular, ‘discussed at length’ is usually a euphemism for ‘there were strong and irreconcilable disagreements.’  Similarly, in that context, the phrase ‘it was agreed’ generally means the commander made a decision over objections of key subordinates, who ultimately had to go along with the boss’ decision.  Despite the false patina of unanimity, that paragraph indicates opinions were sharply divided.

The reasons Hall laid out for his decision did have the virtue of having some merit and might have been convincing were it not for his original stance.  In that original stance, he would have had Gerow making the decision under the identical ‘limiting’ circumstances (23,000 yards offshore aboard a large and stable ship), and Hall was just fine with that.  But after Bradley’s letter of protest, the decision was kicked back to Hall, and suddenly the conditions that Hall thought were fine for Gerow’s decision-making, were now completely unacceptable if Hall himself had to make the decision.  This cast the rationale listed in Hall’s apologia in their true light: they were not put forward as sound tactical considerations, they were merely convenient pretexts that would enable Hall to again avoid responsibility in the matter.  In Hall’s revised analysis, such a decision could only be made by a man ‘on the spot’ in the boat lanes with expertise in the matter of DD tank launchings, which, not so coincidentally, ruled himself out.

From this, I believe Hall’s primary motivation clearly was to avoid any personal responsibility for the decision to launch the ‘gimmicks’ in which he had no faith.  And this ‘hands off and eyes shut’ attitude was the fountainhead for the confusion of responsibilities that permeated planning and execution.  In a cruel twist of fate, Hall’s doubts became self-fulfilling prophesies, because he shunned his responsibilities. 

But even if Hall’s assertion that the decision should be made by the man on the spot has merit, that would not justify delegating the decision as far down as eventually happened.  At the British beaches, the decision was delegated only down to their equivalent of the Deputy Assault Group Commanders.  Recall that Hall’s two Deputy Assault Group Commanders were naval captains (equivalent to Army colonels), both of whom would meet the DD/LCTs at Point K and escort them to the 6,000 yard line for deployment.  In other words, they, too, would have been ‘on the spot’ if a decision needed to be made. That would have been the far better solution.

In addition, any validity to his rationale faded to nothing in light of two subsequent events.  First was the landing at Utah Beach, where RADM Moon made the launch decision with MG Collins’ advice, and where the Deputy Assault Group commander was on the spot in the boat lanes to issue orders to adjust when the DD/LCTs arrived late.  Second, the assumption that very junior officers with six weeks training on DD tanks were the best men to make the decision proved patently unwise.  This was an especially risky option as their decision would determine the fate of a critical slice of combat power, upon which so much of the first waves’ success depended. 

Hall’s judgement was seriously faulty.

But the question remains, was this truly the guidance Hall issued before the operation?  It certainly was never reduced to writing in his own order, nor was it reflected in any of the Army orders.  Was this merely Hall revising history to avoid accountability?  MacLaughlin once again comes to our aid.  His after action report stated Hall and Gerow came to an agreement that:

“ . . . the senior naval commander in each flotilla carrying DD tanks make the decision as to whether the DDs would be launched, or the LCTs beached and the tanks unloaded on the shore.  The senior DD tank unit commander was to advise the flotilla commander in this matter.”[7] 

While generally in line with Hall’s version, there was a significant difference.  Where Hall described a joint decision, with the Army responsibility emphasized by being mentioned first, MacLaughlin’s version clearly indicated it was a Navy decision, with Army input (paralleling, in part, Bradley’s position).  Thus, from this initial decision, the Navy and Army were not on the same page regarding this key responsibility.  Such is usually the case when contentious matters are decided without being documented or translated into orders.

And apparently, not all the actors within the Navy were on the same page, either, and this failure was also a result of Hall’s faulty planning.  Neither Hall’s original operation plan (dtd 23 May 1944) or its subsequent change (30 May 1944) mentioned such a decision would be a joint Army-Navy responsibility.  His original order merely instructed two of his Assault Group commanders that the DD tanks might have to be landed, and left unstated who would decide.  In the absence of guidance from above, the orders of the two assault groups were naturally disjointed.  The Assault Group O-1 order did mention the decision would be a joint Navy-Army responsibility, but only mentioned it in a footnote to an annex detailing the employment of Landing Craf, Support (Small).  The order for Assault Group O-2 didn’t address the topic at all.  Further, by the time Hall’s order and the two assault group orders were issued, the DD/LCT teams had been broken up, with the LCTs and their embarked DD tanks already sailed for Portland, and the tankers already shipped off separately to the final marshalling areas.  If either the Assault Group Commanders or their deputies had any additional role in clarifying or coordinating the matter (most critically with the sequestered tankers) it was not recorded.

The final act in this confusion occurred just a day or two prior to the initial sortie, when the tankers rejoined the LCTs in Portland Harbor.  This was when Rockwell decided that instead of the decision being made separately within “each of the two LCT units carrying DD Tanks,” he would insist on one Army officer making the decision for both LCT units.  Although he didn’t mention what role, if any, he would have in this proposed change, it was clear he was attempting to override both Hall’s agreement with the Gerow and the Assault Group O-1 order.  Whatever Rockwell hoped to achieve, his actual result was to introduce more confusion.  Barry, leading the DD/LCTs of Assault Group O-1, understood that the decision reached at that meeting placed the decision authority solely in the hand of the Army.  Both his Army counterpart (CPT Thornton) and his own OiCs operated on D-Day consistent with that belief.  For that matter, Rockwell’s oral history indicated he and Cpt Elder did as well.[8]  All of this ran completely opposite to the version Rockwell penned after the landing.

Rockwell also had a hand in the cascading embarkation errors.  While he was not solely responsible for the disconnect between the embarkation scheme and subsequent sailing instructions in Assault Group O-1, it’s clear he conducted embarkation with inadequate information.  This was compounded by failing to anticipate how the changed sailing instructions would impact the placement of Barry within the formation he commanded.  This then led to the last-minute switch between the OiCs of two LCTs, which in turn led to Barry and Thornton being physically separated (during a period of radio silence), and indirectly led to the new OiC in Thornton’s craft getting lost in the boat lanes. . . . which in turn, forced Thornton to make a decision while separated from three quarters of his command.  Every error compounded the effects of the previous error and all conspired against sound decision-making in the DD/LCTs of Assault Group O-1.

Rockwell was more directly responsible for the error which saw Companies B and C of Assault Group O-2 being loaded on the wrong LCT sections.  While this did not seem to affect the outcome within his own division on D-Day, it was another distraction that had to be managed as he was dealing with other problems just before the sortie. 

Barry and Thornton do not escape responsibility, though it is abundantly clear their share of the blame is far, far less than Hall, Rockwell and history have heaped on them.  Objectively, Thornton made the wrong decision.  Were there mitigating considerations?  Yes.  Reports of the state of sea and wind varied widely among observers, and to make an Army officer responsible for a decision based on his judgement of sea state is simple folly.  Yet he was stuck with that decision, and he made the wrong one.  It appears to have been an honest mistake, but mistake it was.  The bottom line, however, was that his error was just the last one of an unbroken series of errors that started with Assault Force Commander, and which could only result in disaster of one sort or another.

Barry’s responsibility is far more difficult to assess.  He was largely a victim of Rockwell’s poor decisions regarding chain of command, formations and placement of Barry within that formation.  As a result of Rockwell’s belated recognition of his own error, Barry set off on 5 June in an unfamiliar craft, with an unfamiliar crew, in charge of a formation three quarters of which were not from his normal flotilla, group or section.  Worse, Barry’s understanding of the outcome of Rockwell’s agreement on who would make the decision to land would place him in the precise position – with no role in the decision – for which Hall would later excoriate him.

One other category of responsibility must be noted.  This involves the two Deputy Assault Group Commanders (CAPT Imlay and CAPT Wright).  Theirs are errors of omission, not commission.  While they both noted how bad the sea conditions were, neither took the initiative to intervene.  It’s hard to put all the blame on a junior officer’s decision, when older, wiser heads with more braid on their visors stood by and failed to act.  The blame here is somewhat worse for CAPT Wright, who, instead of leading the DD/LCTs to the 6,000 yard line, had CAPT Sabin take that role while he went back to the Transport Area to tend to his LSTs.

Also falling into this category are various Army officers.  MacLaughlin was involved from the outset in the contentious matter of who would make the decision, and while he clearly knew how important it was, he failed to monitor the developing plans and ad hoc decisions – at least there is no record of him objecting as the process continually went awry.  He can be partially excused as he apparently was aboard the USS Ancon and not present when Rockwell held his pre-sortie meeting with the Army battalion commanders.  Assessing the role of the two tank battalion commanders is difficult without knowing how much of the internal Navy confusion they were aware of, whether they were aware of Bradley’s position or whether they knew of Hall’s agreement with Gerow.  The tank battalions’ own orders had been issued before those of the two naval Assault Groups—which, in any case these units may not have received—so could not incorporate any of the (sparse) guidance the naval orders included.  Beyond that, without a reliable, independent source for what took place in Rockwell’s pre-sortie meeting, there is no way to know whether their role in that meeting was constructive or added to the confusion.  The only judgement that can be rendered here is a very general observation that they did not impart a strong enough sense of caution on their company commanders.  Even this limited observation really only applies to LTC Skaggs of the 741st Tanks Battalion and is tempered by the fact that Skaggs’ version of events has never been put on the record (despite his offer to provide it to Cornelius Ryan). 

And of course, the Army chain of command—from the 16th Regimental Combat Team through the 1st Infantry Division to the Vth Corps—can be similarly faulted for not paying enough attention to this critical matter.  As early as December 1943, Gerow voiced his doubts at a conference on Overlord:

“I don’t know whether it has been demonstrated or not: what will happen to those DD tanks with a three- or four knot current? . . .  I question our capability of getting them in with that current and navigation.”[9]

Having such doubts so early in the process, one can fault Gerow (and probably others) for failing to watch more closely the evolving plans for employing the DD tanks.  These were errors of omission, but did fall directly within a commander’s explicit responsibility for supervision.

The most unconscionable part of this tragedy took place in the days, weeks and even months after 6 June, when individuals were seeking to avoid blame.  Rockwell’s actions come in for the most severe criticism, if for no other reason than short-stopping the reports of the LCT OiCs.  He misrepresented the comments of the OiCs to the benefit of his version of events.  Worse, he wrote his own action report before he even received two of the OiC reports, one notably being Barry’s.  That meant Rockwell condemned Barry without even considering his account.  And the fact that Barry’s account directly contradicted Rockwell on the most vital point casts Rockwell in an even worse light, from which one might logically infer he did that intentionally to keep the potentially embarrassing facts of the matter buried.

Rockwell’s hypocrisy was further emphasized with his decades-later admission that within his own division, they had indeed launched “one or two” DD tanks that promptly sank.  This revealed that Rockwell’s judgement was also so poor that he allowed launching in ‘clearly unsuitable’ weather conditions – the same sin for which he condemned his scapegoat, Barry.  Again, it is another vital point he seems to have concealed when the hunt for someone to blame was under full swing.

Hall’s endorsement of Rockwell’s report (quoted in part above) was equally as self-serving, and, if not blatantly false in parts, was at the very least ill-informed.  Any agreement he may have reached with the V Corps Commander had long since been rendered outdated by sloppy orders or the unsanctioned changes Rockwell instigated just before sortieing.  Had Hall been kept in the dark on this?  Clearly not, as Rockwell’s report plainly stated the decision had been left to the senior Army officer of each group.  Which indicates Hall was trying to spin the facts.  

Hall’s endorsement omitted the point that Elder had launched ‘one or two’ tanks without consulting Rockwell (as Rockwell noted in his oral history), which would have revealed that Hall’s joint decision policy had been disobeyed.  This is likely because Rockwell concealed that matter from Hall (and from history for 40 years), just as he had withheld Barry’s report.  But if Hall had been kept in the dark on this point, it demonstrates the fact that Hall’s inquiry into the matter had been woefully inadequate. So, was Hall uninformed of this?  Or did he know and simply chose to omit it?  This is crucial, as up to that point, the Rockwell/Elder team had functioned exactly as the Barry/Thornton team had, the only difference being Rockwell/Elder took action to stop the mistake before it became total. This distinction was lost on Hall, and as a result his endorsement drew a comparative picture that was false and prejudicial to Barry and Thornton. 

And finally, Hall’s bland assertion that the Army and Navy leaders were supposed to consult by radio is undermined by his order that did not grant them authority to break radio silence.  Rockwell’s oral history made it clear that when Elder and he broke radio silence, it was in violation of orders.  (Although the tank radio nets were authorized to be opened at 0500 hours Rockwell’s report and oral history both indicate he was not aware of that, and there is no indication Hall was, either.) Again, Hall’s endorsement painted a picture that was not an accurate reflection of the operational conditions Hall himself had set.

A close examination of Hall’s endorsement raises more red flags.  It was written three and a half months after D-Day and fully two months after Leide’s endorsement to the same Rockwell report.  A quick survey of 43 endorsements which Hall provided to the reports of subordinate units or ships, shows 37 had been issued by 15 August, with the vast majority signed within a month of receipt.  The last endorsement signed was on 22 September, and not coincidentally that was the endorsement to the very questionable Rockwell report.  Clearly, he had been sitting on that contentious matter for as long as possible (which should also have given him time for a thorough investigation into the matter – something he did not do).  By that date, the 741st Tank Battalion was no longer attached to the 1st Division, having been attached to a second and then a third division, and many of the key Army figures in both battalions were killed or evacuated from theater due to wounds.  Not that it mattered much, because Hall did not provide distribution of his endorsement or Rockwell’s report to the 741st Tank Battalion (busy racing through France at the time), effectively blindsiding the tankers.  Of the four Army units he did include in distribution: Bradley no longer commanded the First US Army, Gerow no longer commanded V Corps (having been recall to testify before the Army’s board investigating Pearl Harbor), the 1st Division hadn’t seen the 741st in more than 3 months, and the 743rd Tank Battalion was also under a new commander.   Further, in the distribution block to his endorsement, Hall excluded the basic letter (Rockwell’s report) from delivery to the 743rd Tank Battalion.  Between this act and completely omitting distribution to the 741st Tank Battalion, Hall ensured no one on the Army side who was present at Rockwell’s pre-sortie meeting or aboard the LCTs on D-Day could read and dispute Rockwell’s questionable version of events.  He was just as sneaky on the Navy side; he did not forward any of these documents to LCT Flotilla 19 – the unit Barry belonged to (though he did provide a copy to Rockwell’s and Leide’s Flotilla 12).

Hall’s handling the of the affair’s aftermath is perhaps the classic ‘indictment-by-endorsement’ bureaucratic maneuver, wherein a potentially embarrassing investigation is forestalled by a carefully spun story that closes out an affair by shifting the blame to someone not in a position to defend himself.  Nothing else captures the essence of the DD tank saga as does this sorry concluding action.

But that isn’t the end of Hall’s role in the matter.  In a further paragraph of his endorsement to Rockwell’s report he betrayed an utter lack of understanding for the ground combat side of such assaults.

“(b) That under normal circumstances, artillery, tanks and other armored vehicles, which have to be transported in large landing craft, should not be landed in an assault until the beach has been cleared of enemy resistance and the vehicles and craft carrying them will not be exposed to direct aimed artillery fire during the landing.

“(c) That if circumstances make it necessary to employ tanks, artillery or other armored vehicles in the first wave or other early waves of the assault, they have a far better chance of reaching the shore in safety if they are transported by landing craft instead of swimming in under their own power.”

“Under normal circumstances . . . “ is a bizarrely inappropriate phrase to lead a recommendation about an assault so spectacularly un-normal as Omaha Beach.  If followed, Hall’s recommendation was tantamount to throwing unsupported infantry ashore reminiscent of the WWI mass attacks, and it disregarded everything learned about the essential need for combined arms operations, even at the earliest stages of an assault.  In his formal report on the landings, he expanded on this point, suggesting that naval gunfire was all that the assaulting troops would need for support.  Spoken like the old Battleship sailor he was.  Yet this completely disregarded the massive failures of bombardment in his own landing – largely due to communications breakdowns between ships and troops ashore.  And while the destroyers proved invaluable on D-Day, nevertheless there were numerous enemy guns sited in such a manner that they were impervious to naval gunfire and were only knocked out by tanks ashore.  Finally, the lack of adequate bombardment ships and lack of adequate time for such a bombardment in the European Theater precluded giving Hall’s recommendation any serious consideration.

As for the second paragraph, the obvious counterpoint is that one of the two principle reasons the DD tank concept was adopted in the first place was because amphibious commanders, such as Hall, did not want to risk LCTs in the first wave.  The whole fiasco could have been avoided had he simply ordered tanks be landed in the first place.  But he did not do that.  His comments here—lightly cloaking criticism of the Army DD tank concept—are actually the observations of a man who was not self-aware enough to realize he was part of the very problem that generated use of the DDs in the first place.   

Other Beaches - Other Results

Utah Beach

Earlier in this installment I touched on Utah Beach.  Let’s look more closely at the actions there: how did Rear Admiral Moon handle the same situation over on his beach? 

Recall that Moon had no previous amphibious experience, and worse, he had much less time to organize his command and plan for the landings due to the late addition of Utah Beach.  It’s no surprise that his force did not come off well in Exercise Tiger (the final Utah Beach rehearsal exercise).  And yet, his handling of the DD tank matter on D-Day was far superior to the far more experienced RADM Hall.

Moon decided to keep the question of launching DD tanks in his own hands.  He did not delegate it.  While this may not have been the best echelon for that decision, it was at least a clear assignment of responsibility, something lacking in Hall’s command.  Second, he would seek the advice of his Army counterpart, MG Lawton Collins (the VII Corps commander, riding in Moon’s command ship), ensuring unanimity of command.  These two provisions alone eliminated the wide array of problems that arose in Hall’s command.

The result was a much different mentality on D-Day, with executing units knowing where to look for a firm decision.  This began at the bottom, with USCG Cutter 17 flagging down the commander of CTG 125.5 (Commander E. W. Wilson) at 0309 hours to ask whether the DD tanks were to be launched or landed.  Wilson then proceeded in his flagship (LCH-10) to the USS Bayfield (the Utah command ship) and put the question to Moon.  Moon consulted with Collins at 0333 hours and the two decided to go ahead with the launching.  It was a clear decision made in a timely fashion and quickly passed to all the necessary parties.

DD Tanks on the Beach at Utah.

Life, however, is not that simple.  The DD/LCTs were not yet on hand to launch the tanks.  The convoys carrying the Utah landing force encountered the same problems in crossing the English Channel as did the Omaha convoys.  In this case, the DD/LCTs were running late.  Fortunately, Wilson was on top of matters and anticipating problems.  At 0347 hours, he queried the Bayfield, “If LCTs do not arrive for first wave, do you want to hold LCVPs?”  At 0353 hours he was told, “Do not wait for LCTs with DD tanks.”  He passed that word on at 0400, adding he would send the DD/LCTs when they arrived.  At 0426 hours the DD/LCTs arrived and were sent in.[10]  In an effort to catch up with the assault waves, the DD/LCTs passed the 6,000 yard line, closing to 3,000 yards where they launched their tanks. The DDs crawled ashore roughly 10 minutes after the first wave (i.e, 20 minutes late). [11]

The relative lack of beach defense at Utah might give the mistaken impression that all went well with the landing.  It did not.  But at least when it came to the DD/LCTs, the command responsibilities, planning and leadership resulted in sound execution, even in light of the late arrival of the convoy.

The Eastern Naval Task Force

The operation orders for the British and Canadian assault forces called for the DD tanks to be launched at an even greater distance—7,000 yards—with at least one order warning that in the case of enemy fire, they might have to launch beyond even that.  Fortunately, most of their DD tanks were taken into the shore, and those that were launched did so at either 5,000 yards (comparable to the distance at Omaha) or at about 1,500 yards.  In all cases, the decision was made by a naval officer with the rank of either captain or commander (equivalent to Army colonels or lieutenant colonels), which was a significant difference from the practice in Hall’s assault force.  In almost every case, the decision was made after consulting with the Army counterpart.

The employment of DD tanks on the British and Canadian beaches was summarized by Rear Admiral Phillip Vian, the Naval Commander of the Eastern Task Force (under whom the Assault Forces S, J and G operated).

“Launching of D.D. Tanks

“27.  The weather conditions were on the border line for swimming D.D. Tanks; in all the assaults the D.D. Tanks arrived late, and after the first landing craft had touched down.

“28.  In SWORD Area it was decided to launch the D.D. Tanks but to bring them in to 5,000 yards before launching, in view of the weather and lack of enemy opposition.  Thirty-four of the 40 tanks embarked were successfully launched and 31 reached the beach.  The leading tanks touched down about 12 minutes late and after the L.C.T. (AVRE).  At least one tank was run down and sunk by an L.C.T. (AVRE) and it is credible that not more were hit by these L.C.T. which had to pass through them.  Twenty-three tanks in this area survived the beach battle and did good work in destroying strong points which, being sited to enfilade the beaches, presented no vulnerable aperture or embrasure to seaward.

“29.  On the JUNO front it was decided not to launch the D.D. Tanks but to beach their L.C.T. with the L.C.T. (AVRE).  This was successfully accomplished in Assault Group J.2, but in Assault Group J.1 the D.S.O.A.G. in charge of the L.C.T., when about 1,500 yards from the beach, decided to launch the D.D. Tanks.  This resulted in some confusion in the groups following, but all L.C.T. except one launched their tanks, which arrived about 15 minutes late and 6 minutes after the assaulting infantry.

“30.  In GOLD area D.D. Tanks were not launched and L.C.T. were beached just after the L.C.T. (AVRE).”  [12]

Interestingly, he described the conditions as “on the borderline for launching D.D. Tanks”, which to some degree parallels the mixed observation of the conditions in the Omaha Assault Area.  The far happier results of the 34 DD tanks launched at Sword Beach, which were launched at a distance nearly the same as at Omaha, indicates the sea conditions there were actually more moderate than at Omaha.

Of course, few sources agree as to the actual losses among DD tanks, and some disagree even whether units were launched or landed.  For instance, at Gold Beach, where RADM Vian reported all DD tanks were landed on the beach, one source stated 32 DD tanks of the Nottinghamshire (Sherwood Rangers) Yeomanry were launched inside of 700 yards, and only 24 made it in.  Similarly, yet another report stated that of the 38 DD tanks of Group J.1 that launched close inshore at Juno Beach, 19 foundered.  Most of these discrepancies can be accounted for due to the fact that a substantial number of DD tanks were drowned out in the surf after touching down.  In some cases, there was water inside the canvas screen that the pumps could not handle, and when the tank’s front pitched up with the gradient of the beach, the water flooded to the rear and into the engine compartment.  In other cases, incoming waves broke over the back of the deflated canvas skirts and flooded the engine compartments.  These cases cannot be counted among those that foundered while swimming, and regardless, in most of these cases, the crews continued to fight their disabled tanks until the tide reached inside the turrets.

A DD tank mired in soft ground at Gold Beach.

To my mind, the example of the British and Canadian beaches—as well as Utah Beach—provided the cautionary lesson that proper employment of an operationally fragile system in a questionably suitable environment requires the judgement of seasoned and mature officers of appropriate rank and of the appropriate armed service.  The failure to recognize this truism was a major factor in fathering the debacle of the 741st Tank Battalion.

Parting Comments 

And with that we conclude this deep—very deep—dive into the circumstances surrounding the employment of Duplex Drive tanks at Omaha Beach.  The subject turned out to be vastly more complex than I anticipated, requiring no fewer than six long installments to do it justice.  Even at that length, I saw fit to omit discussion on some points, such as the possible effect stronger-than-anticipated currents might have had on collapsing the screens as the swimming tanks tried to steer ‘upstream’ to counteract their drift to the east.  I also omitted discussion of the actions of the surviving tanks once they made it ashore – a subject covered many times by many authors, and not within the focus of my series.

Incomplete as this series may be in those respects, I’m confident this has been the most thorough treatment of the subject, revealing several layers which have not been told elsewhere.

When I first set out to review the impact of the planning process and the orders for Omaha Beach, I intended not to make this a witch hunt or an attack on individuals.  I wanted to focus on systems and processes, doctrine and planning.  Unfortunately, the sheer scope of errors, bad decisions, sloppy plans and shabby cover-ups called for more sharply focused conclusions where some individuals were concerned.  I regret having to do it, but not having done it.  

In future posts, I will continue to explore how strategic priorities, resource constraints, command decisions and the planning system affected the conduct of operations at Omaha Beach.  I hope you’ll join me.

[1] As most of the documents referenced in this installment have been thoroughly discussed and cited in previous installments, I will omit duplicating them here, and will only include citations for newly introduced documents.

[2] In the original design a canvas curtain had walled off the area above the engine compartment.  This was replaced by a chimney-like exhaust stack which may have addressed the carbon monoxide poisoning threat, but that isn’t clear in Duncan’s report.

[3] For Juno Beach see ONEAST/J.2, Appendix C, para 2(c), pg  689; for Sword Beach, see ONEAST/S.7b para 12, pg 994; for Gold Beach, see ONEAST/G.FOUR, Part II, para 8, pg 1346; for.  All three orders are contained in Allied Naval Commander-in-Chief, Expeditionary Force’s complied Operation Neptune Naval Operations Orders which can be found at NARA RG 38 or online here.  Page numbers cited here refer to those of the online file. 

[4] At one British beach, instructions were to actually anchor during launching.

[5] Commander, 3rd Armored Group, Report After Action Against Enemy, June 1944, pp 2-3.  NARA, RG 407, Box13647, Entry 427.

[6] Commander, Assault Force “O” 22 September 1944 second endorsement to Com.Grp 35, LCT (6) Flot letter of 14 July 1944.  NARA, RG 38 or online here.

[7] MacLaughlin, op cit.

[8] In that oral history, the revelation that one or two tanks were launched as planned without Rockwell giving instruction – they had not yet broken radio silence – indicates he had no role in the decision-making.

[9] Balkoski, Joseph. Omaha Beach: D-Day, June 6, 1944 (p. 98). Stackpole Books. Kindle Edition.

[10] CTG 125.5 (Commander, Red Assault Group), Action Report, Operation Order N0. 3-44 of Assault Force “U”, Western Naval Task Force, Allied Naval Expeditionary Force, dtd 12 July 1944, encl 1, pg 1.  NARA RG 38, or online here.

[11] CTF 122 (Commander, Western Naval Task Force), Operation Neptune – Report of Naval Commander, Western Task Force (WNTF), pg 163 (online page reference).  NARA: RG 38, or online here.

See also:  CTF 125 (Commander, Force “U’), Report of Operation Neptune, dtd 26 June 1944, pg 654 (as contained Report of the Allied Naval Commander-in-Chief Expeditionary Force on Operation Neptune, dtd 16 Oct 1944).  NARA 38, or online here.

[12] Operation Neptune – Report of Naval Commander Eastern Task Force, dtd 21 August 1944.  Vian’s report is in Volume II of the Report of the Allied Naval Commander-in-Chief Expeditionary Force on Operation Neptune, dtd 16 Oct 1944.  Vian’s report begins at pg. 178.  The reports of his subordinate force commanders are also contained in that same document as follows: Force S Commander, pg 241; Force G Commander, pg. 330; and Force J Commander, pg. 439.  This document can be found at NARA, RG 38, or online here.

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.

Figure 1. 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 were rendezvous areas 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 until 0500 hours when the tankers were allowed to break radio silence.

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).

Figure 2. 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 Point 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.  The tankers were authorized to break radio silence at 0500 hours, five minutes before Rockwell and Elder supposedly conversed via the tank radios. So it was likely these radios were used to convey a decision. But, as mentioned before, Rockwell had no physical access to those radios. Al he could do was leave the wheelhouse, walk forward in the well deck until he was next to the lead tank, and shout up the the platoon leader, with snippets of conversation relayed via that platoon leader. But that would rely on Elder first opening the net. It’s far more likely it was Elder who initiated the call when he opened the radio net and he who made contact with Rockwell. Which would imply Elder also raised the decision not to launch, as Dinsmore’s report seemed to say. This might seem to be a minor point, but given how we’ve seen Rockwell’s report was heavily spun to cast himself in a good light, it is important to clarify every point.

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 disaster.  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.

Figure 3. 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.

Figure 4. 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, the American 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 Dinsmore’s comment (“. . . at 0530 we decided the sea was . . .”) meant Elder made the landing 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, though I personally believe the evidence favors him in the right hand LCT.

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]  Its 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 2 (above), 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; they would only ‘be’ adjacent if the person making the entry in the S-3 Journal was referencing the uncorrected Omaha Assault Area chart.  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 were 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 - perhaps all the tanks in one LCT.

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.  He certainly never claimed he did. The best he could claim was that he and Elder communicated and were in complete accord after one or two tanks had sunk. Rockwell positively stated he only contacted Elder after the tanks had been launched and sank, so the order must have come from Elder, with Rockwell a silent observer - just as Barry had stood by as the tanks were automatically launched in O-1.  In other words, the actual launch decision in Rockwell’s division was solely in the hands of the senior Army officer - just as Barry said was decided in the Portland meeting, and just as Rockwell himself recommended in his 30 April training report. Indeed, since Rockwell had no role in either launching the tanks or aborting the process, then the communication with Elder was almost certainly initiated by Elder as he asked to be taken in to the beach.

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 almost certaily 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 aborted 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 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 gap and then an additional double gap, creating the best passages 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 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 (16 May), 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 (in a naval order the tankers might possibly receive) 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 responding 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.  Worse, in that passage, Hall contradicted his own revised decision policy—which a few paragraphs earlier—he said he had put into effect: that the decision was to be a joint matter. Here he faulted Barry for not countermanding the launch order, which clearly indicates in Hall’s mind the Navy had final authority. Nothing better captures the confusion surround the key decision-making process than Hall’s contradictory and confused endorsement.

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 naval 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 (on the tank radio net - not the Navy net).[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 far distant 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 (note he did not try via his own or the Army radio nets).  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.

The tank radio net was open and active, as permitted by the supplemental instructions to the 1st Infantry Division’s Field Order no. 35. We do know Thornton and Young used it to discuss whether to launch or not. The problem here is that there were two parallel radio nets in each LCT - one Army (open and active) and one Navy (under radio silence) - and the two sides largely failed to consult with the other.

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.  This is yet another perfect example of the utter confusion in planning and leadership that characterized this effort. 

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 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, proactive 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 did load their tracks as Heubner suggested:  the DD tanks loaded at Torcross and the wading tanks and tank dozers loaded at Dartmouth. 

On 16 May the DD tanks were embarked at Torcross and the next day (17 May) the 16 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 RADM Hall’s Final Ship Assignment Lists were published on 16 May.  Both of these reflected the correct load assignments for each LCT.  And that was a problem. Neither of those documents could have reached Rockwell by the time he embarked the DD tanks. The Landing Tables were published just the day before, and the Final Ship Assignment Lists the very day of embarkation. But the information in those documents wasn’t disseminated until Hall issued his own order.  That order also included LCT Assignment Tables [9] which also correctly specified the loading and LCTs for Companies A and B.   It was published on 20 May, three days after the LCTs and DD tanks sailed from Torcross to their departure ports. 

Did Rockwell and/or Leide base embarkation on informal copies of the LCT Assignment Tables provided by Hall’s staff? Is so, was the data in them changed before formal publication? Or did Rockwell misread them? Or did Rockwell use the same embarkation scheme he’d used for Operation Fabius, which was altered in the final order? It’s hard to believe he would have simply embarked without any guidance, but it can’t be ruled out. Whatever the explanation, when the LCTs arrived in Portland, the two DD companies of the 743rd Tank Battalion were on the wrong LCTs. The problem was, the crews of the tanks had been trucked to marshalling camps to await the invasion, and were not available in Portland to unload and re-load their tanks.

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 this 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.”[10]

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.”[11] 

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.[12]  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.[13]  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 close to the center of their formation when launching.  It was an excellent scheme of maneuver for the purposes of command and control.  This is the same deployment scheme used for DD/LCTs at Gold Beach, except that the even craft deployed to the right and the odd to the left. [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 17 May.  Assault Group O-1’s order wasn’t published until 29 May and O-2’s order on 25 May, and both 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 divisions 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 BG.  (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 Group O-1 order.

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 did not board LCT-549 until the day of the final sortie, 5 June; in fact, the change did not take place until just 2-3 hours before the sortie.  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 naval orders had imposed strict radio silence on the LCT net, 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] Headquarters, 3rd Armored Group, Report After Action Against the Enemy, June 1944, undated. NARA: RG 407, Box 13647, Entry 427. However, in his NEPTUNE Report, the Commander Force “O” (Hall") placed the sailing date as 25 May 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; 13. Combat Loading; (A) Comments, pg 633).  The handwritten changes to the LCT Assignment Tables are visible in the NARA copies of this order.

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

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

[13] 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)

Revised and updated, 27 September 2025 - CRH

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 last 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.

Colonel Severne MacLaughlin, U.S. Army, was the commander of the 3rd Armored Group, the headquarters the controlled both the 741st and 743rd Tank Battalions. Because the Armored Group was basically an administrative headquarters (the tank battalions would be attached to and controlled in battle by infantry divisions), COL MacLaughlin and part of his staff primarily functioned as the Armor staff element on the V Corps staff. In that position he was part of the coordination between the V Corps staff and Hall’s staff in developing the invasion plans. And these soon came into conflict over the matter of DD tanks. Perhaps inspired by Rockwell’s and Duncan’s idea that the launch-or-land decision be an Army responsibility, Hall’s position was that the decision should indeed be solely the Army’s, but that it should be made by V Corps commander (MG Gerow), himself, a clearly unacceptable position to the Army. Although MacLaughlin’s brief account of this planning process (contained in his command’s action report) did not go into detail, the disagreement between Hall and Gerow eventually was kicked upstairs on the Army side.

Bradley also disagreed with Hall’s position.  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 sea conditions on D-Day. As a result, on 17 May Bradley sent a letter on the subject to his counterpart, 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 COL 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 not only the commander of the 3rd Armored Group, but Duncan’s DD tank 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.

In the wake of Bradley’s letter, a major change took place on the matter. With the ball back in Hall’s lap, he decided to hand it off to someone else. There is no pre-invasion document from Hall stating the new policy; his only reference to it was contained in his 19 September 1944 endorsement to Rockwell’s action report on the landings. In the endorsement, Hall laid out the revised policy he claimed he issued and tried to justify it in this manner:

“2.  The question as to who should decide whether to launch DD tanks was discussed at length by the Assault Force Commander with the Commanding General, Fifth Corps, U.S. Army and the Commanding General, First Infantry Division, U.S. Army.  For the following reasons it was agreed that the decision should be left to the Senior Army Officer and the Senior Naval Officer of each of the two LCT units carrying DD Tanks:

“(a)  They had more experience than any other officers in the Assault Force in swimming off DD Tanks from LCTs.

“(b)  The decision should be made by someone actually on the spot where the launching was to take place and embarked on an LCT rather than on a large vessel.  A decision under such conditions should be sounder than one made on a large vessel miles away where the sea conditions might have been much different.

“(c)  If a decision were to be made elsewhere and action had to await an order, confusion and delay might result in the absence of such an order, and it was anticipated that communications might be disrupted by the enemy action so that it would be impossible to transmits orders by radio.

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

In military vernacular, ‘discussed at length’ is usually a euphemism for ‘there were strong disagreements.’  Similarly, in that context, the phrase ‘it was agreed’ generally means the commander made a decision over objections of those he was consulting with, who, by virtue of subordinate stations, ultimately had to go along with that decision.  So, despite the gloss of unanimity, that paragraph seems to indicate it remained a contentious issue.

Nevertheless, the justifications Hall laid out had the virtue of having some merit, at least insofar as excusing himself from making the decision.  But there are serious grounds to doubt Hall believed what he wrote here based on his original position on this matter.  Hall had had no problem with the decision not being made by ‘a man on the spot’ when he was forcing that decision on MG Gerow (who would be aboard the command ship USS Ancon with Hall for the landing). It was only when the decision was placed back in the Navy’s lap that Hall suddenly realized the decision could not possibly be made aboard the Ancon and simply had to be passed on to someone else. It’s all too evident that he wanted nothing to do with a concept he believed was merely a ‘gimmick’ and was grasping for reasons to delegate responsibility for it. And while we might sympathize with wanting to distance himself from the DD tanks, by virtue of his command responsibilities he was legally and morally obligated to exert every effort to to ensure their success. And in this he failed.

In the 3rd Armored Force action report, MacLaughlin provided a slightly, but significantly different version of the ‘agreed upon’ decision:

“ . . . the senior naval commander in each flotilla carrying DD tanks make the decision as to whether the DDs would be launched, or the LCTs beached and the tanks unloaded on the shore.  The senior DD tank unit commander was to advise the flotilla commander in this matter.”  

While mostly in line with Hall’s version, there was a major difference.  Where Hall described a joint decision—with the Army’s role emphasized by being mentioned first—MacLaughlin’s version clearly indicated it was a Navy decision, with Army input.  Thus from this initial decision, the Navy and Army were not on the same page regarding this key responsibility.  

And apparently, not all the actors within the Navy were on the same page, either.  And this failure was also a result of Hall’s faulty planning, for his ‘joint decision’ guidance was never reduced to writing, and was glaringly absent from his Operation Order No. BB-44 (dated 20 May 1944[11], two days before Kirk’s clarifying order on radio silence regarding DD tanks). Hall’s order 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.”

There was at least some good news, as 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 language identical to the above passage, thereby effectively delegating the launch-or-land decision to those two men. However, the glaring fact is that he made absolutely no mention of such a decision being a joint Navy-Army matter, or that Army advice was even to be sought. Whatever the ‘agreement’ between Hall and Gerow might have actually been, Hall failed to articulate in his orders. Rather than the decision being placed with the Navy and Army LCT/DD senior officers, his order made the O-1 and O-2 Assault Group commanders responsible.

While this delegation to the Assault Group 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. Not only would those two men also be located 23,000 off shore— nowhere near being ‘on the spot’—they 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.  Their stake in the goings-on among LCT skippers was as shallow as it was brief. So Hall delegated the responsibility to men just as remote from the scene as he was, and men who would not have the benefit of MacLaughlin’s presence and advice. Hall’s planning and guidance were seriously disjointed and ill-judged.

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 elements directly commanded by the Deputy Assault Group commanders. 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, where the decision was delegated to the Deputy/Senior Officer, Assault Group—with advice from his Army counterpart. 

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 1st Infantry Divisions Field Order Number 35 covering the landing was dated 16 April 1944, and it too originally had imposed strict radio silence until contact had been made with the enemy. But in the wake of RADM Kirk’s 22 May change to the WNTF order, MG Huebner’s headquarters issued a 25 May 1944 Letter of Instruction which included six pages of updates and changes. Paragraph 13 had this to say:

“13. RADIO SILENCE.

“Naval, Air Force, Artillery and DD Tank Units may break radio silence at H-90 minutes during the assault. At H-15 minutes, all other assault units may break radio silence so that nets can be opened and checked prior to landing.”

As a result, the four DD tank companies could communicate via organic tank radios as of 0500 hours. Although this letter did not authorize the naval units to break radio silence, by mentioning them in the same sentence, it implied similar instructions had been issued to them through the Navy chain of command. But this is probably incorrect. For one thing, Hall’s 20 May order mentioned a different time (H-120 minutes) for unspecified units and conditions. And nothing Hall issued after that order indicates he changed his original instructions. Further, as we’ll see in later installment, Rockwell was clear that he thought he was breaking radio silence contrary to orders when he contacted Elder on between 0500-0530 hours on D-Day.

This was yet a further indication that Hall’s planning once again left the Army and naval units operating from disjointed plans. It also set up the conditions for communications and coordination breakdown on D-Day, as the key Navy officers would be denied use of their organic radios if they needed to confer on a launch or land decision. At best, they could only struggle with communicating over the tank radios, but with the screens raised and tank engines running, Rockwell and Barry could only rely on doubtful shouted snippets to be relayed by the nearest tank commander.

The unfortunate reality is that as of 30 May, the date Hall issued the one 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.” 

This is the only instance in which Hall’s ‘agreement’ appears in any planning document, The footnote’s indirect comment was also 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 in an Army Captain (O-3 grade) as a decision-maker rather than an advisor. 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.  These criticism are not merely fussy academic points; these ‘minor’ planning errors are the things from which operational errors thrive.

The result of this order, and Hall’s planning that led up to it, 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 nor did it 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 LCT officer and the senior Army company commander. But even that was of little help, as the LCTs of Assault Group O-1 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 and tankers were assembled in Portland Harbor (located in Weymouth Bay), which puts it sometime shortly 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 attempt 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 Rockwell’s preferred assignment of responsibilities (that the decision should be Army’s alone), despite what Hall and the orders may have had to say.

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 six LCTs from Flotilla 12. The shortfall of 4 LCTs was made up by adding one from another division in Flotilla 12, two LCTs from Flotilla 19, one from Flotilla 26. So 13 of the 16 DD/LCTs were from the same flotilla as Rockwell. But 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 in a manner that exactly matches Barry’s report. These two sources in turn directly support the earlier interpretation of Rockwell’s report that he was attempting (and succeeded) 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 not a single one was submitted through the chain of command to anyone above Rockwell. Instead, they were kept in Rockwell’s personal papers for five decades. So there was nothing in the official 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 (the other DD tank company commander with Elder) had been killed and LTC Upham evacuated with wounds (both on D-Day). The last man who could contradict Leide was Elder, but he was neck deep in combat and in no position to comment on the Navy’s evolving coverup. As it would turn out, Elder, too, would be killed in action, two weeks later, and his voice was never heard on the matter. So there was 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. It was Leide’s statement that would form the basis of the official Navy version of the story, indicating the ‘right’ decision was solely a Navy responsibility. This was the exact opposite of Barry’s account, but with Barry’s version blocked from getting into the record and the Army participants dead or unavailable, Leide’s spin would become unquestioned ‘fact.’

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. Who conducted these meetings with “all the officers-in-charge of ‘DD’ tanks in Force ‘O?’” Neither Leide nor Rockwell would have operational control over the DD/LCTs of O-1 on D-Day; they had been task organized out of Leide’s control, and Rockwell had never any control over them beyond his role as trainer. And this reveals the heart of the command and control (C2) failure. There were three separate layers of C2 in play: 1) the organic C2 relationship, in which Leide normally commanded 13 of the DD/LCTs; 2) the task organized C2 relationship, in which Assault Group O-1 exercised operational control over Barry’s division on D-Day; and 3) an informal authority Rockwell had been imbued with by Leide based on his role in training, and which Leide clearly thought carried on through to execution. In this climate, everyone was in charge or no one was in charge, depending on the case one chose. In this one paragraph, Leide selectively used each of these (often conflicting) C2 relationships to make one point or another, and the result was that it merely illuminated the underlying confusion of C2 governing the DD tank operations.

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. Whether he realized it or not, that implied condemnation would also fall on the other five OICs of Barry’s division, who were, after all part of Leide’s own Flotilla 12 - a point that reflected poorly on Leide’s leadership of that flotilla. In addition, that comment was largely pointless, a distraction at best; it didn’t much matter whether the OICs knew to land the tanks in the case of bad sea; they should be operating under the command of their division leaders (Barry or Rockwell) not operating independently. (Or . . . was Leide anticipating the reality that the division leaders would not be able to communicate with their subordinate LCTs? More on the communications breakdown later.)

The crux of the matter was who was supposed to make the decision, which was a point not specified in the O-2 order that governed Leide, Rockwell and Elder. Leide pointedly did not mention what the meeting with the tank battalion commanders had to say about that. Yet his comments here clearly put the ball in the Navy court, as the supposed instructions to the OICs made absolutely no reference to obtaining a joint agreement with the Army counterparts. Here again Leide was selectively grasping as individual straws to make a series of points which in sum were contradictory.

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. The inevitable result was anything but unanimity of action.

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 OICs, but Barry over in O-1 failed to heed Leide’s instructions.

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 agreed to or 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 - or should have been - 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, his seven subordinate LCT OICs and the two Army company commanders in O-1 had a completely different view of how it was to play out. Neither Leide’s nor Rockwell’s written gymnastics can hide that fact.

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, 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 precisely 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. 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 naval planning had resulted in none of these leaders being collocated in either Assault Group O-1 or O-2 (an error we’ll cover in detail in another installment). Some form of communications was necessary between the Army captain in one LCT and the Navy division leader. So all the wrangling over who would decide what for which element was rather pointless without a common means of communications.

Although all the LCTs had been equipped with radios when they arrived in the UK, the naval orders imposed radio silence. So how was Rockwell expected to take part in any decision or pass orders to his LCTs (much less those in O-1!)? While Hall’s order did note he could grant exceptions, he apparently did not extend an exception to the DD/LCTs, as Rockwell believed he was not authorized to use radios before the first landing, a point he stressed in his oral history. Similarly, the Army originally had also imposed radio silence [19] , but the change to the1st Infantry Division order authorized the DD tankers to break radio silence at H-90 (0500 hours, as discussed above). While it would appear the Army’s radios could provide the common communications link, thus solving the coordination problem, Rockwell’s oral history made it clear he was not aware the tank radio net was exempted from radio silence. Similarly, Barry (in O-1) made no effort to contact CPT Thornton by Army radio and also seemed unaware that net was off radio silence. The tool was at hand, but the two naval officers apparently were unaware it was available.

So regardless of who might be involved in making the decision, only the Army participants had the means to communicate and were aware it could be used. Practically speaking, this factor would drive how the decisions would be made on D-Day and who would make them. The key point hidden in the chaos surrounding who would make the decision was this: how did they expect to make that decision given the communications restrictions, both real and self-imposed? Were they counting on Rockwell and Barry to violate the radio silence orders? If not that, then what?

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 (as Rockwell believed radio silence would be in effect), 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. (Possibly this reflected the Army belief that the decision was the Navy’s - as COL MacLaughlin’s statement indicated.) 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 not realizing how the communications problem would drive to disaster.

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). In fact, this kind of direct coordination is usually necessary in any order. But coordination was hardly possible in the two weeks leading up to the landings as the tankers had been locked into one of the assembly camps while the LCTs officers were confined to their craft. The only opportunity for coordination was the last minute meeting at Portland, and it certainly certainly fell well outside the category of mere coordination. For one thing, its object was not merely coordination, rather it appears to have been an effort 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 it was an example of runaway confusion.

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 – undoubtedly 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.