Omaha Bombardment. Part III: The Execution

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“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

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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.‍

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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. ‍

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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 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 (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.