World War II Notes
November 8, 1942
(Operation Torch)

Noon to Midnight

All through French North Africa, American and British troops advance cautiously, against a variety of opposition. At Oran, the 1st Battalion/18th Regiment reaches the stone and concrete village of St. Cloud, defended by French machine guns and riflemen, backed by 75mm and 155mm guns. The Americans bring up some self-propelled 105mm guns, and 2nd Battalion/18th Regiment, but they can’t break through, either. The irritated Americans bring up the 3rd Battalion/18th Regiment as dusk falls, and move in for a dawn three-pronged attack. The 16th Regiment reaches Fleurus, nine miles from Oran, by dusk, and consolidates for the night. 1st Battalion/16th Regiment heads east to La Macta, a coastal hamlet, and seizes the village with gunfire support from HMS Farndale. There the Americans dig in to hold the left flank of the Oran invasion.

British sailors and landing craft move ashore 10,000 infantrymen, 1,000 armored troops, and 2,500 corps units through the beaches before deteriorating weather shuts down all the beaches except Mersa bou Zedjar. Despite these high numbers, only 340 vehicles go ashore, creating a bottleneck through Arzew’s limited piers. Sherman tanks, tank destroyers, halftracks, artillery pieces, ammunition panniers, and fuel remain aboard the transports, despite the best efforts of increasingly weary sailors and beach parties.

At Tafaroui Airfield, American tanks and armored infantry dig in around the airstrip, and wait all day for either the paratroop task force or some relief to show up. At 4 p.m., they finally hear the distinctive whine of Roll-Royce Merlin engines, and 25 Mark V Spitfires from the 308th and 309th Squadrons of US 12th Air Force finally appear out of the West, white stars glittering on their wings. En route, the Spitfires run into four French fighters (probably De. 520s) and shoot down three of them for a loss of one Spitfire. The nimble British-built fighters swoop in on the airstrip. Their presence gives the Allies air supremacy over Oran.

However, the French are not ready to give in just yet, as they organize counterattack groups.

Robinett’s western armored column also has a busy day, grinding up the road to La Senia airfield and Oran, north of the Sebkra d’Oran salt lake, grinding to a halt in front of fierce French opposition at Misserhin.

At 11 a.m., Rommel gets the definitive bad news, the Americans have landed in Algeria and Morocco. His quartermaster also warns that it will take another two days to squeeze Panzerarmee Afrika through the Halfaya Pass. Otto is moving the men – his picked officers sort out traffic jams, jettison damaged or broken trucks, guns, and tanks, and bully frightened drivers into staying behind their wheels. But the overall picture is bleak. Rommel decides to break off the remains of the Italian 20th Corps – which has lost most of its transport anyway – and have them move to Habata. There they will watch for the British and delay them, with help from the 90th Light Division.

To keep Rommel irritated, Il Duce is demanding a firm defense of the Italian Empire. Cavallero has ordered the Pistoia Division and the Giovani Fascisti Division, both in reserve in Libya, to head for the front. The latter division consists of poorly-trained kids from the Italian Blackshirts, Mussolini’s version of the Hitler Youth. Rommel doesn’t want them. They are more mouths to feed, and he has no transport to bring them forward.

On the other side of the line, one of the toughest outfits in the British 8th Army is also struggling to keep moving. 2nd New Zealand Division spends the morning dragging mud-bogged vehicles onto firm ground, and drying clothes and blankets before moving again.

In the Algiers piers, the magnificent stand of Col. Swenson and his valiant band is coming to an end. Just after noon, there is no sign of relief, and his surviving men are short on food, ammunition, and bandages. Arrayed against them are Senegalese troops and S35 and R35 tanks. Swenson’s men lack anti-tank weaponry. At 12:30, he faces the inevitable, and surrenders his force. Sullen Senegalese troops gawk as the Americans march into captivity, having suffered 15 dead and 33 wounded. British casualties on HMS Broke are nine killed and 18 wounded. It is not a very fine hour for French, British, or American military honor. Swenson’s men will spend the next two days in captivity, but gain one success: the French don’t do anything to demolish the port.

Nonetheless, the Anglo-American invasion of Algiers continues. British and American commandos of 6th Commando attack Fort Duperre, defended by French Sailors in their red pom-pommed hats. Commando Capt. Lieven, a Canadian, brandishes a megaphone, and calls upon the French to surrender. The French reply with automatic fire.

The commandos, however, force the surrender of Fort Duperre and its coast defense guns. A troop of Commandos advances down a road and bumps into a lone French civilian on a bicycle. The Commandos take the Frenchman into custody briefly, and the civilian tells the Commandos that he couldn’t decide how to greet them, having a choice of "Heil Hitler," "God Save the King," "God Bless America," or "Vive La France."

1st Commando assaults Batterie du Lazaert, backed by the guns of the cruiser HMS Bermuda and dive-bombers from HMS Formidable. French Sailors and Marines endure the bombardment, which silences their coast defense and AA guns. There is no record on how the French Marines felt about being pinned down and bombed by Formidable’s ancient Albacore biplanes. The commandos storm the fort at last, and take 50 Marines prisoner after a brief firefight.

Following Ryder’s new orders, British and American forces swing in on Algeria’s capital city, 11th Brigade moving in from the west, and 39th Infantry Regiment from the east. 168th Regiment’s men reach the outskirts of Algiers by dusk and small parties start moving into the city. Col. Doyle personally leads a detachment of his 1st/168th into Algiers, capturing the Palais d’Ete at 3 p.m. Concealed snipers kill Doyle, and pin down the rest of the battalion, which is approaching Fort l’Empereur.

At Maison Blanche airfield, 39th Infantry GIs watch as 18 Hurricanes of RAF No. 43 squadron, short on fuel, wobble down on the tarmac after their 460-mile journey. They are followed at sunset by RAF Spitfires of No. 81, 154, and 242 Squadrons. Unfortunately for the pilots, the RAF Regiment and its ground crews can only bring in a small amount of supplies and fuel ashore, because of the surf conditions on the beaches.

In Algiers, Darlan now controls the city. Radio Alger stops broadcasting Giraud’s proclamations and martial music, and goes back to light music and standards before going off the air. Garde Mobile police protect all the important buildings. Insurgents await their fate in dungeons and jails. Newspapers are shut. Even the BBC is being jammed.

At the Villa des Oliviers, Pendar and Murphy gloomily watch HMS Formidable’s Albacores attack. Fenard joins them, saying, "This must be stopped. This is ridiculous."

Fenard isn’t the only one. Darlan is not a brilliant strategist, but he can read maps and situation reports. The American forces, backed by their own and British air assets, are moving to encircle the city. Aware of the landings at Oran and Casablanca, Darlan cuts the North African command in two, the east under General Louis Jacques Barre in Tunisia, the west under Nogues in Morocco. Then he tells his aides he’s ready to talk to the Americans. Darlan tells his aides, "There is no point having people killed uselessly. Let us not prolong a resistance which is hopeless."

Darlan sends Dorange to pick up Pendar. Juin’s aide has recovered his Gallic sang-froid from the night before, and now wears an immaculate new uniform.

Dorange drives Pendar through Algiers streets to the Fort. While Pendar frets in the fort, Dorange gets his orders from Darlan and Juin. Then Dorange returns to Pendar and urges him to find the American commanding general to start talking terms.

Pendar is happy to oblige. He drives to the Central Commissariat, where Jacouin’s body lies in a bloodstained heap, but no Americans. Then to Villa Sinety, where the OSS has a secret radio. He’s told the Allies are at Sidi Ferruch. Weary but determined, Pendar drives off and finds the harbor there filled with ships, and companies of GIs of the 168th Regiment heading into town.

Meanwhile, American mortarmen start hurling their 81mm shells at the Fort l’Empereur, wrecking its 19th-century emplacements. Juin orders his men to prepare to counterattack.

But at 5:30, Juin changes his mind, sends Dorange to find Pendar, and cancels his counterattack. A good thing, too – Pendar has hooked up with Ryder, Mast, and British Army Capt. Randolph Churchill, son of the Prime Minister. Dorange finds Pendar there.

Ryder looks dazed, but with good reason: he hasn’t slept for days. Ryder has a simple request for the French: "What are your intentions, and above all, who is in command here?"

Dorange says that Darlan and Juin are in charge, and ask for terms.

Ryder has a quick answer: Easy terms if the French surrender now, harsh if they don’t, and Murphy has to be present at the negotiations.

Darlan sends a car and driver for Murphy, and the whole bunch, including Ryder, meet with Dorange, who is ready to surrender. An extremely long and bizarre day for the exhausted diplomats climaxes with six French soldiers lined up before the fort in arrow shape. Dorange hands his sword by the blade, hilt extended, to Ryder, announcing that he has surrendered Fort l’Empereur and the City of Algiers to the American Consul General.

Then all climb back into Darlan’s limousine and head for the fort, where resistance is still continuing. When the surrender party arrives at the fort, they find the Royal Navy shelling the place and French guns spitting salvoes back. As the limousine drives up to the fort’s gates, French buglers blow the call for "cease-fire," and everyone goes in to meet with Juin, who stands waiting behind a green baize table.

Amid the handshakes and greetings, a bomb from a British plane whistles past and explodes nearby. Ryder blurts out, "How wonderful! This is the first time since World War I that I have been under fire!"

The French – equally exhausted – react with stony silence. After a few awkward moments, Juin and Ryder get to the business at hand, the cease-fire in Algiers and its suburbs.

As the sun sets over Algiers, the shooting and fighting stops, and the city is quiet again. French troops return to their barracks, keeping their arms and ammunition.

Shortly after the sun sets, the air raid sirens wail and Algiers blacks itself out again. The first portion of Hitler’s retaliation hurtles in – Kesselring’s night bombers, Junkers 88s and Heinkel 111s, hammering the port.

Another group of German He 111 and Ju 88 bombers attacks Force H, evading fighter patrols in the gathering dusk. They cause no damage, being repelled by radar-directed flak. Engineering Officer John Stuart on HMS Renown recalls, "One evening at sea off the coast of Algiers the ship’s crew had just fallen out on completion of dusk action stations. The gun crews had packed up. Suddenly a Heinkel torpedo bomber appeared very low on the starboard quarter. Lt. Maurcie Balaam in charge of the nearest battery saw the plane and ordered the crews to fire at the aircraft in emergency. This they did and exploded the two torpedo warheads as they were launched at very close range, and the plane was shot to pieces. Thus a very well pressed home attack by the German pilot was frustrated."

At noon in Rome, Mussolini summons the German Military Attaché, General Enno von Rintelen, to the Palazzo Venezia. Mussolini has a message for Hitler, which says that if Vichy France fights alongside the Axis, he will support them as an ally. If Vichy France does not fight, then it is essential to occupy the Free Zone and Corsica. Rintelen sends the message, and Hitler agrees with it.

Meanwhile, Field Marshal Ugo Cavallero, the Italian Chief of Staff, noting that the French fleet is raising steam, writes that if France comes down on the Axis side, the Axis will have won the war.

By 1 p.m., 2nd New Zealand Division is finally on the move. 21st Battalion wraps up lunch, and drives westward. 23rd Battalion advances 28 miles.24th Battalion reaches the southern approaches of Mersa Matruh. 26th Battalion spends a good deal of time re-supplying itself and salvaging booty and equipment from enemy positions. Capt. A.M. Rutherford, one of the battalion’s doctors, helps himself to a well-equipped German ambulance. When the battalion moves out, its vehicles soon get stuck in heavy sand and mud, and have to be dragged out by Bren carriers and bulldozers. With all the stops and delays, it takes all afternoon to cover a mere 11 miles.

Brigadier Howard Kippenberger, commanding 5 NZ Brigade, advances 28 miles. In the course of his advance, he reaches the old Minqar Qaim battlefield, finding 300 German graves in a neat cemetery. However, the skeletons of the men killed near his old headquarters, buried in shallow graves, have been uncovered. Kippenberger orders his men to bury the New Zealand bodies again and properly mark their graves.

2nd NZ Division’s artillery digs out of the mud, too. Petrol and other supplies don’t arrive until noon, so the artillery men dry their blankets and clean mud out of the Bofors guns

The 2 NZ Supply Column is also having a terrible time, its vehicles struggling through mud. Hordes of Italian troops, wandering about the desert, descend on the Column to surrender, so the New Zealand Drivers put them to work manhandling supply-laden trucks through the bog. The Petrol Company sends its four-wheel drive Bedford lorries to "bash out" a firm track, and somehow Supply Company manages to issue 7,670 gallons of water to the frontline troops.

"The sun came out and sparkled in all the puddles and made the canopies steam," writes Peter Llewellyn in the official history of 1st NZ Ammunition Company. "The desert was still in afoul mess but it was drying momently and we had hopes of being able to move soon. The damage, though, was done now. Rommel had been given a day’s respite from pursuit and form bombs, and his army, fleeing along the tarmac coast road, had made good use of it."

The Ammunition Company advances at 2 p.m., and finds the desert like "soggy gingerbread." Vehicles become bogged, and all hands break out shovels. The company rolls past the captured Luftwaffe airfield at Sidi Haneish and counts more than 30 wrecks. "We were convinced, for perhaps the first time, that a great victory had been won."

When night falls, the column has only advanced 18 miles. The company bivouacs for the night, and boils tea. Over dinner, they learn of Operation Torch. "To most of us, in the first flush of our enthusiasm, it seemed that the war was as good as over and our long journey towards Christmas as good as ended." Llewellyn will use that phrase, "Journey Toward Christmas," as the title for the company’s official history.

At 2 p.m., the German government, through the Franco-German Armistice Control Commission in Wiesbaden, formally requests the use of bases in Tunisia. An hour later, Otto Abetz, Hitler’s ambassador in Vichy, delivers to Laval a message from Hitler asking if Vichy is prepared to fight alongside the Germans in Africa. Laval temporizes. But just before midnight, he agrees.

At Safi, Captain (Navy) François Deuve’s Foreign Legionnaires are still putting up a stiff fight in their walled barracks near the harbor waterfront against the 1st/47th Infantry. At 2:30 p.m., three ancient French FT17 light tanks of World War I vintage, clatter into a counterattack, charging the American troops.

The Americans are so shocked by this counterattack that they completely forget to use the new bazookas they’ve been issued, and instead fire rifle grenades. Fortunately for the Americans, the FT17 is very thinly-armored by World War II standards, and two of them are knocked out. The third tank’s driver loses control and crashes into a stone wall. With all three tanks immobilized, the 1st/47th dashes forward and grabs the tanks. They turn the FT17s’ Hotchkiss machine guns on their former owners, keeping them pinned down while Capt. James J. Johnston brings up his 81mm mortars.

The defenders get the point. Short of ammunition, the commanding Legionnaire emerges from his barracks under a white flag at 3:30 p.m. Unsure what to do with their captives, 1st/47th passes out cigarettes and sends the Legionnaires back to their own barracks as prisoners.

Down on Safi pier, Harmon stomps up and down, frustrated over his difficulties in unloading his tanks and vehicles. Harmon is an unusual sight in his pink jodhpurs and knee-high riding boots. French snipers agree – they keep Harmon and his HQ team under sporadic fire. Twice Harmon orders a squad of soldiers to a hillside house that is the source of the shooting, and each time the sergeant in charge reports back, "There’s nothing there but a harmless man and woman, sir."

And each time, after the squad leaves, the sniping resumes. After several Americans are hit, Harmon has had enough. He collars an M3 Stuart tank commander, points at the house, and bellows, "Get up the hill to within 10 feet of that goddamned house and blow it off the map!"

The lieutenant drives his tank forward and hurls a 37mm shell into the house, which collapses the structure into a heap of masonry. After the smoke clears, a trapdoor pops open, and a French officer and 30 men appear from the building’s cellar. They had been hidden by the "harmless man and woman" who now lie dead.

With the sniping over, Harmon and his engineers return to work. French bomber planes swoop in to attack the massed ships, but are scared off by American AA gunfire.

By dusk, the Americans hold the port and a three-mile beachhead, with all roads into Safi blocked.

Hitler is still en route to Munich, getting reports from far-flung battlefields. As far as he can see, the French seem to be fighting. But he can’t be sure about the wobbly Vichy leadership. He orders Field Marshal Gerd von Rundstedt, the craggy commander of German forces in the West, to take the file folders marked "Operation Anton" off the shelf and prepare to implement them. Operation Anton is the plan for the occupation of Vichy France.

The Port Lyautey fight also rages on. Truscott comes ashore at Green Beach at the mouth of the Sbou at 3 p.m. He wades ashore, but his jeep bogs down in powdery sand, to remain there all night. Most of the other vehicles landing are bogged down, too. Annoyed, Truscott climbs into a halftrack and rolls off. Two tanks and a tank destroyer join him, and one tanker accidentally cuts loose with his machine gun, sending bullets whizzing three inches from Truscott’s head.

Truscott debarks from his halftrack near woods, and heads off on foot with two aids, reaching the lighthouse and Cactus Village, to find Col. De Rohan. De Rohan reports that Dilley’s battalion has been decimated, with companies down to 50 and 50 men each.

Truscott doubts this report. He rightly believes that most of the "casualties" are actually stragglers who have run in fear from their first battle.

"Colonel," Truscott tells de Rohan, "I want you to use your headquarters troops to search every house in the area." De Rohan obeys, and his HQ troops turn up 200 stragglers and return them to their units.

Truscott, however, knows that his force of green troops has probably achieved all it can realistically accomplish, and perhaps more. He stumps back to his HQ at Blue Beach in the gathering dusk, to find only a flagpole and an exhausted radio operator. The radio man is out of touch with the ships offshore. The officers are lying around on the ground, asleep.

Cold, wet, miserable, frustrated, Truscott slumps down on a sand dune, watching lost troops pick their way through the sand and the dark, shouting curses and passwords ("George" is the password, "Patton" is the countersign) at each other. Truscott lights a cigarette to relieve the tension, violating his own orders, and sees other smokers doing the same.

As Truscott smokes, he sees a shadowy figure stumbling from man to man in the dark. The intruder stops in front of Truscott, and says in a thick accent, "Hey, gimme a cigarette."

Truscott does so, and the man says, "All wet. Gimme light too."

Truscott holds out his lighted cigarette and two officers wake up and aim their submachine guns into the stranger’s stomach, yelling "George!"

The intruder retorts, "George? Me no George! Me Thue P. Lee, cook, Company C, 540th Engineers! Best damn cook in the Army."

Truscott steals Lee to be his own cook…and then loses him later on to Patton. Nobody bothers to ask the 540th Engineers how they feel about losing their Chinese cook.

At noon in London, Charles De Gaulle meets with Winston Churchill. By now, the tall Frenchman has cooled down. He criticizes Churchill for letting the Americans make key decisions in the operation. "I cannot understand how you British can stand aside so completely in an undertaking of such primary concern to Europe." That evening, however, he broadcasts a message of support for Torch to France and its territories.

At 12:30 p.m., Maj. Gen. George S. Patton Jr. finally climbs into a small boat to take him ashore from USS Augusta. Patton wears shined cavalry boots and two oversized stars on his helmet. Puffing on a cigar, he stands up in his boat while Augusta bluejackets cheer, clenching his hands overhead in a salute to victory.

When he comes ashore, Patton’s cheer to turns to rage. His radio communications have completely broken down. Radio sets are soaked with salt water, and useless. Cipher machines have been landed at the wrong beaches. Patton has no idea what is happening at Safi or Port Lyautey. As evening falls, the Fedala force continues its advance.

In Gibraltar, Eisenhower writes down the "Worries of a Commander." They are the silence from Spain; few reports from his Task Forces; Stubborn French defensive fighting; no Frenchman available to stop the fighting; Giraud unwilling to enter the theater; Giraud being difficult to deal with; Giraud’s demands for supplies; delays with the Bone-Bizerte force; no knowledge about the airborne forces. His last worry: "We cannot find out anything."

That evening, Eisenhower dines with Doolittle, Cunningham, and Clark, when the message "Darlan Wants to Negotiate" arrives from Algiers. Ike is stunned. What to do with Giraud? What to do with Darlan?

Cunningham says to remember Churchill’s oft-spoken warning, "Kiss Darlan’s stern if you have to, but get the French navy."

In Munich that evening, the surviving "Alte Kampfer" of the 1923 Beer Hall Putsch pack the Lowenbraukeller, wearing their SA brownshirts. The Lowenbraukeller is not the actual site of the putsch – the actual Burgerbraukeller remains a wreck from the 1939 Beer Hall rally, which was punctuated by a bomb attempt on Hitler’s life, which failed to kill the Fuhrer.

Tonight, Swastika flags hang from the arches to the Lowenbraukeller’s main hall. The stage is covered with flowers, above which stand massive gold eagles. The air is heavy with sweat and beer when the Badenweiler March, Hitler’s entry music, starts playing. The Fuhrer marches in, wearing his SA brownshirt uniform, swastika on his left arm, from the entrance of the beer hall to rapturous applause. His style of entering from the street is designed to give him the appearance of being a man who has risen from the common ranks.

When Hitler reaches the podium, he accepts thunderous applause and throaty shouts of "Sieg Heil!" from the thick-necked, corpulent cronies.

As usual, when he begins his speech, he presents the picture of flustered incompetence, as if he is not capable of meeting the massive standards of his office. As usual, he starts off by telling the audience the story of his life – how he founded the Nazi Party, and led it and Germany to power and victory. "We could have had victory in 1918, but the German people did not deserve it," he says. "I was convinced that if I succeeded in bringing order to the German people, the catastrophe of 1918 would not be repeated.

"Why do we fight so far away from home? We fight because we want to protect our homes. It is no coincidence that today we have the same enemy as in 1915. Then his name was Wilson. Today it is Roosevelt.

"But if during the last war we were the worst organized people in the world, today we are the best organized." Hitler’s speech draws thunderous applause, and it is broadcast throughout the Reich and its occupied territories, right into the frontlines in Egypt and Russia.

"If the enemy does not fall, we will fall." He attacks Jews, Russians, politicians, Roosevelt, and Churchill, for an hour, then turns to the battlefields. He deals with the North Africa invasion briefly: "When Roosevelt launches an attack against North Africa, we need not waste words about his lies. We will prepare all counter-blows thoroughly, as always, and they will come in due course." Even as he speaks, Luftwaffe planes are attacking Algiers.

On Egypt: "So far as I am concerned, the British can advance as much as they like in the desert. The enemy moves forward and back, but what matters is the final result, and that you can leave to us."

Field Marshal Rommel, in Egypt, hears the speech on the radio, while sitting in the armored car of General Carl-Hans Lungershausen, commander of the 164th Light Division. Rommel’s troops are exhausted and shattered – No.2 Company of the 220th Engineers Battalion has only 28 men. Rommel says to Lungershausen, "The campaign in Africa is lost. If Rome and Rastenberg don’t realize it and take measures in time to rescue my soldiers then one of the bravest German armies ever will take the long road to the PoW camps. Who will tehn defend Italy against the threatened invasion?"

Lungershausen doesn’t have an answer. But Rommel continues to ponder the situation, and realizes that he has to carry out an African Dunkirk. His equipment – much of it captured from the British anyway – is expendable or worn out. But his 150,000 men are not.

On Stalingrad, Hitler continues: "I wanted to reach the Volga, to be precise, at a particular spot, at a particular city. By chance it bore the name of Stalin himself. But don’t think that I marched there just for that reson, it was because it occupies a very important position…I wanted to capture it and, you should know, we are quite content, we have as good as got it! There are only a couple of small bits left. Some say: ‘Why aren’t they fighting faster?’ That’s because I don’t want a second Verdun, and prefer instead to do the job with small assault groups. Time is of no importance to me. No more ships are coming up the Volga. And that is the decisive point!"

In Stalingrad, German troops dug deep in cellars, foxholes, and ruins, hear the speech on their Volkensangers (cheap German radios that only pick up the Deutsche Rundfunk), and moan. One soldier sighs, "If only he had made it to the rank of full corporal!"

The Sixth Army is the largest such outfit in the Wehrmacht’s Table of Organization and Effectiveness, and it cannot seize Stalingrad.

To redress the situation, five battalions of assault engineers have arrived in Stalingrad. Equipped with flamethrowers, machine pistols, and dynamite, they are considered Germany’s experts on street fighting. They arrive by train, with cook Wilhelm Giebeler and his kitchen gear. On the train, Giebeler listens to his buddies do what every soldier in history has done when advised of a new assignment: grumble about it.

The 336th is met by their boss, Maj. Josef Linden, and assigned to Point X across the street from the Barikkaddy Factory. Linden inspects his battlefield, and finds it ghastly. "Loosely hanging corrugated steel parts, gun barrels, T-beams, huge craters…cellars turned into strongpoints…over all a never-ceasing crescendo of noise from all types of guns and bombs."

Inside the factory, Maj. Eugen Rettenmaier, fresh back from furlough, returns to take over his battalion, and finds out that of 400 men, only 37 answer roll call. The rest are killed, wounded, or presumed dead.

Rettenmaier summons Linden and the 336th to reinforce his own group, and spend a chunk of the day figuring out how to drive from the factory to the Volga. The two main Soviet strongpoints are the Chemist’s Shop and the Commissar’s House, a clumsy brick fortress that dominates the terrain.

The assault engineers ask Rettenmaier releveant questions about the Soviet defenses. Then Rettenmaier tries to brief themon Soviet tactics, saying how the Russians hide in cellars. The pioneers cut Rettenmaier off. They’ve seen this drill, they say, in the fighting for Voronezh.

The big attack will begin after midnight. Engineers and infantry draw ammunition and rations, and then start assembling for the assault.

Out beyond the German lines, Soviet troops are celebrating the 25th anniversary of the October Revolution, with vigorous sniping and hard drinking. A battalion commander and his exec in the 45th Rifle Division get smashed on the special vodka ration and go missing for 13 hours. Left leaderless, the battalion putters around aimlessly on the Volga’s east bank.

Many frontline Soviet troops don’t get the celebration vodka…or even rations, for that matter. However, the Soviet soldier is nothing if not resourceful, and make home brew out of a variety of questionable liquids.

Late in the evening, 28 soldiers from the 248th Rifle Division die in an approach march in the Kalmyk Steppe. Nobody calls for medics, and nobody admits the cause of death. The officers assume the soldiers have died from cold and exertion, and submit that as their report. That fails to pass the NKVD’s stupidity test, and the secret police orders autopsies on 24 bodies. They find that death was caused by consuming "anti-chemical liquids." The soldiers drank large amounts of a solution to be drunk in small quantities in the event of gas attack. This liquid apparently contains some alcohol.

The NKVD interviews the unit’s survivors, and finds out that the men believed it to be "some sort of wine." On the surface, it would appear to be a case of theft of army material and drunken soldiers. However, the NKVD secret police goons don’t accept the obvious solution, and decree this matter to be "an act of sabotage to poison soldiers," and start pursuing the traitor or traitors in this nonexistent plot.

Nonetheless, there is good reason for determined Soviet security. Behind the Soviet lines, two massive coiled springs are building up north and south of Stalingrad. Soviet factories moved to the Urals, despite harsh weather and appalling safety conditions, are spewing out all kinds of weapons of war. In the first six months of 1942, the Soviets have produced 11,000 tanks. By 1942’s end, that will rise to 13,600 for the second half of the year. 9,600 aircraft were produced between January and June 1942 – 15,800 planes from July to December.

Stalin’s ruthless evacuation of industry and workers to the Urals is now paying dividends. More than 1,500 factories have been evacuated, along with their workers. Most factories lack heating, windows, and even roofs. But the assembly lines work nonstop, with civilian women, children, and senior citizens drafted to the factories. Soviet bureaucracy, central planning, and tyranny consume the lives of scores of workers.

In some ways, the Soviet mobilization is similar to America’s. Women in dungarees weld tanks together in Chelyabinsk’s tank factories, called "Tankograd." The Soviets train armored regiments on the spot, and create one from the workers, asking for volunteers. 36 hours after the posters go up, they have 4,363 applications to join the regiment, 1,253 from women.

Even in the hideous Gulag system, where hundreds of thousands of prisoners live and slave in misery, munitions production is high. The prisoners hate Stalin – but fear Hitler more.

American and British support is also enormous. British Hurricane II fighters and Valentine tanks are part of Russia’s arsenal, as are American jeeps and Studebaker trucks. The Soviet troops are not happy with the British boots and greatcoats, but they prize the American trucks. More importantly, millions of tons of Kansas wheat in its white sacks, stamped with the American eagle, and Armour Star corned beef from Chicago, which is feeding Russia’s people and soldiers.

Outside of the buildings, ruins, strongpoints, bunkers, cabins, tents, factories, tanks, vehicles, and trailers around Stalingrad, German and Soviet soldiers alike notice that the temperature that evening is dropping rapidly. It will fall to –18 Celsius.

In Munich, Hitler is still speaking, now on the upcoming Russian winter: "For this winter’s campaign in Russia we are differently equipped. What we suffered last winter we shall not suffer again."

Rintelen returns to the Palazzo Venezia at 7 p.m. along with Cavallero. The discussion is a rehash, but Mussolini makes a salient point: "Territorial issues do not play the same role as at the beginning of the war, we are now fighting for our existence."

Later that evening, Ribbentrop phones Ciano, and summons him or the Duce at once to Munich for talks with Hitler, along with Laval. Ciano awakens Mussolini, who is not anxious to go. In fact, Il Duce feels sick, and orders Ciano to go instead. Ciano orders up a special train, and the green lights are cleared to Munich, proving once again that Mussolini has made the trains run on time.

Laval has a slower trip. He has to take a car.

In Jersey, German occupation troops of the 319th Infantry Division are watching a movie in the cinema that evening. The movie stops, the lights go on, and the men are ordered back to their units and put on alert. No explanation is given.

Bomber Command, recovering from its exertions over Genoa, has a quiet night. 70 aircraft lay mines from Brest to the Frisian Islands. In addition to the work of the mines, these attacks, known as "gardening," bring out German minesweepers, who send radio messages about their sweeping efforts in various grid squares. British radio-interception analyzes the messages to use the grid-square codes as baselines to break more important German messages.

26 Stirlings of 3 Group spend a busy evening over France, dropping leaflets announcing the success of Allied forces in North Africa.

All across French North Africa, American and British troops struggle off beaches, heading towards their targets and destinations. The first joint Allied invasion of the war has been a bizarre mix of comedy and tragedy, and has revealed all kinds of weaknesses in Allied equipment, training, and planning. The Allies have had a tough time coming ashore in the face of sporadic and divided French opposition. All planners worry about what would have happened had the defenders been the stronger and better-equipped Germans. The paratroop operation has been a complete failure, and the coup de mains on Oran and Algiers are an utter waste of lives.

Despite this, Operation Torch is also a remarkable achievement of strategic thought, political skill, and combined force planning. Anglo-American cooperation has worked well at all levels. For the first time, an invasion operation has been jointly planned by commanders and staffs of two nations with different outlooks, organizations, and experiences. Two vast armadas marshaled 4,000 miles apart, from two different nations, have defeated weather, inexperience, and enemy forces, to seize three and secure widely separated footholds.

Despite their inexperience, the American army has made a creditable debut in the European war, displaying ample determination, improvisational skills, and strong leadership. Names like Eisenhower, Patton, Truscott, Harmon, and Clark make their first appearances in the world’s headlines. There they will remain for the duration of the war.