November 7th, 1942... At midnight, the Oberkommando Wehrmacht offers German military collaboration, in particular air support, in the event of a British landing in Africa. Admiral Auphan, burning the midnight oil in Vichy, fires off a message to Algiers, saying, "OKW offers Axis air support from Sicily, Sardinia. In what form and where do you desire such support?"

Algiers responds, "Support against transports off Algiers." Without an official agreement, the Vichy French defenders in North Africa have committed themselves to Hitler's side.

Berlin orders German Naval Command Italy, in Rome, to send in situation reports every hour. The staff in Rome tries to comply, but the Kriegsmarine's war diary notes the reports give "no clear picture of the movements of the enemy formations."

Nonetheless, the Germans try hard to deduce Allied intentions. At 4:40 a.m., a Lutwaffe plane spots a convoy 80 miles south of the holiday island of Ibiza, but doesn't report its course. On the basis of this and other fragmentary reports, The Italian Navy's high command, the Supermarina, decides at 8 a.m. that the Allies are going to invade French North Africa at Bougie, Bone, Algiers, or Oran.

Meanwhile, the German Embassy in Mardid passes on Spanish theories that the Allies will land in Italy, while the German military attache there repeats the earlier line: the goal is Rommel's rear.

All these reports go to Hitler for his noonday situation conference at Rastenberg in East Prussia. Surrounded by barbed wire and croaking frogs, Hitler studies the situation, and says that the Allies will land four or five divisions at Tripoli or Benghazi, to take Rommel in the rear. Then he prepares to leave Rastenberg to head for Munich, where he must give a major speech in two days - the anniversary of the Munich Beer Hall Putsch.

But while Hitler dismisses the Allied moves, the Italian Naval Command disagrees, and late in the day move German U-boats south to the French North African coast. But the Germans are late.

Rundstedt puts aside the detective mystery he's reading - he has little else to do as C-in-C West - to find this plan. It's the update of Operation Attila, which is in turn Hitler's Directive of December 10, 1940, ordering an occupation of Vichy France in the event of an uprising in French North Africa. "At the same time the French fleet and air force will be captured, or at any rate prevented from defecting to the other side. The Kriegsmarine and the Luftwaffe will jointly examine how best to seize the fleet in cooperation with the troops, who will occupy the ports." Under Attila, the Italians are not to be involved. Under Anton, they will.

Rundstedt reaches for his command phone and starts giving orders. General Blaskowitz's 1st Army, south of the Loire, is assigned this task. Blaskowitz in turn assigns General Paul Hausser, commanding the 2nd SS Panzer Corps, to the main task, driving to Vichy and on to the French Navy's main base at Toulon. For this, Hausser has the 2nd SS "Das Reich" Panzer Division, and the 7th and 10th Panzer Divisions. Hausser, a regular officer seconded to the SS against his will, isn't too thrilled, but he alerts his divisions.

Rundstedt also calls up General Vercellini, commander of the Italian 4th Army, and alerts them to send one division from Sardinia to Corsica, while the rest of his troops - including the tough San Marco Marine Commando Battalion - get to seize the Riviera.

Then the rain stops suddenly. The sun breaks through the clouds, clearing the air. Read has a superb view of the eastern sea, and before him stands a convoy of 12 Japanese transports heading southeast.

Read breaks his orders, hooks up the teleradio, strings out an aerial, and reports this to KEN on Guadalcanal.

What he sees are 12,000 Japanese troops - the main punch of the 38th Division - headed to Guadalcanal for Japan's fourth attempt to take Henderson Field. Air reconnaissance confirms these moves.

On that island, the Marines at Koli push on to a point about a mile west of the Metapona River, and dig in against the enemy landing that Read has reported.

The incoming convoy gets a warm reception. Guadalcanal sends seven SBDs of VMSB-132, three TBFs of VT-8, 21 Marine F4Fs, and nine Army P-39s of 67th Fighter Squadron. The Japanese have six Rufes and four Petes, all seaplane fighters, overhead.

The Americans pounce on the less-maneuverable floatplanes. Among the Americans is Capt. Joseph Foss, a fast-rising ace. The Americans splash six Rufes and one Pete, losing three F4Fs in the process. Among those ditching is Foss.

Despite this aerial success, the bombers fail to stop the convoy, causing 17 casualties on two destroyers, Naganami and Takanami. They deposit 80 percent of their passengers at Tassafaronga and Esperance, and take home 497 ailing soldiers and sailors.

The British commandos - Special Boat Service men - break out their kayaks and drop them two feet into the Mediterranean. Giraud puts on his gray hat, overcoat, and field glasses. Looking like he's going to the racetrack, he climbs down into the boat. The commandos paddle him over to the seaplane, and Giraud climbs into the arms of the Canadian crew.

A few minutes later, with all aboard, the seaplane takes off. As the seaplane streaks across the Mediterranean for Gibraltar, Giraud and his party look down on the massive British fleet heading for Algiers. Giraud's aide, Capt. Andre Beaufre, gazes on this spectacle "with indescribable joy."

Ike writes to Marshall, "Kingpin (Giraud's code-name) has just reached here. I will see him in 20 minutes. The (British submarine captain) that picked him off is the same one that carried Clark on his hazardous mission. I'd like to give him a Silver Star this evening!"

Ike continues, "Recent messages from Murphy clearly indicate that he has a case of jitters. I assume that you have seen copies of all his communications, including the one demanding as diversions for Torch, a landing in southern France of more than 50,000 soldiers, coupled with simultaneous attacks in Norway and Western France...

"We are standing, of course, on the brink, and must take the jump - whether the bottom contains a nice feather bed or a pile of brickbats! Nevertheless, we have worked out best to assure a successful landing, no matter what we encounter." He adds that he cannot think of any major decision he would change, and that the type of thing he has been doing for weeks will have to become common practice between the British and American services.

During the morning, meteorologists advise Ike that the Casablanca surf will be down to three or four feet, five at most. "My greatest fear had been dissipated," Ike says.

That afternoon, Giraud lands at Gibraltar, along with an exhausted Capt. Jerrauld Wright. Wright is happy to get off the sub, and hits the shower.

Aides show the tall Giraud into Ike's office. Despite his rumpled civilian clothes and day-old beard, Giraud maintains precise military bearing. Eisenhower, Clark, and their aide Col. Julius Holmes - a State Department diplomat put into uniform who accompanied Clark on their secret mission - explain Torch to Giraud.

Ike sketches out the invasion plan and explains Giraud's role. Eisenhower wants Giraud's signature on a letter stating that the US, anticipating Hitler's intention of seizing French Northwest Africa, is beating the Germans to the punch. In the letter, Giraud will call on all French fighting men to rally to the Americans. Giraud will "resume my place in combat among you."

Giraud greets this with icy silence. Finally, he says, "Now, let's get it clear as to my part. As I understand it, when I land in North Africa, I am to assume command of all Allied forces and become Supreme Allied Commander in North Africa."

Ike and Clark can't believe Holmes's translation. Clark gasps, but Ike keeps his poker face. "There must be some misunderstanding."

Giraud refuses. He continues, telling Eisenhower that he expects that the Western Allies are also going to simultaneously invade southwest France. Ike is stupefied. The combined might of the United States and the British Empire can barely muster forces for Torch, let alone Giraud's dream of a 40-division descent on the Riviera.

Eisenhower and Giraud argue for an hour, to no avail. Tired, all hands head off to dinner. Giraud dines with Mason-McFarlane while Ike and Clark dine at The Mount, the Admiralty mess, as guests of the Royal Navy. They also read messages. One says that the Casablanca surf is calming down. That's good news for Ike, as the surf at Casablanca can rise as high as 15 feet. Also that Montgomery has 20,000 POWs and 400 guns in the bag. The Egyptian government is impressed.

Another set of messages comes from Ultra intercepts - Hitler's order to Rundstedt to prepare to invade Vichy France.

Ike sends his message tot he Torch forces at 5:20 p.m., "Warning order. H-Hour confirmed November 8. For East and Center 1 a.m. For West about 4:30 a.m."

After dinner, Giraud returns to Eisenhower's office, with his two sons and Captain Andre Beaufre, as his interpreter. The debate rages on. Ike offers Giraud the governorship of North Africa, and ample finances to build an army. Giraud is not impressed. He holds his ground, saying through Holmes, "General Giraud cannot accept a subordinate position in this command. His countrymen would not understand and his honor as a soldier would be tarnished."

"I am General Giraud!"" the Frenchmen shouts. "I'm like Joffre! My prestige! My family!"

The debate rages for hours. The invasion is only hours away. Clark is furious, but Ike believes Giraud is merely sitting on the fence to see whether or not Torch succeeds. Finally Clark snarls, "We would like for the honorable general to know that the time for his usefulness to the Americans is now. After tonight we have no need for the honorable general." Giraud cannot be supreme commander, but can command all French troops.

Giraud retorts stiffly, "Then I shall return to France."

"How are you going back?" Clark snaps.

"By the same route I got here."

"Like hell, you will," Clark says. "That was a one-way submarine you were on. You're not going back to France on it."

Giraud says nothing. Clark continues, saying to Holmes, "Tell him this - if you don't go along, general, you're going to be out in the snow on your ass."

Giraud has no answer. Ike suggests the session be broken up, as it's 10 p.m.

Everyone shuffles off to bed, except Ike, who continues writing to Marshall, "My impression, shared by the Eagle (Clark) and Cunningham, is that Kingpin is playing for time and that he is determined, knowing that there will be some French resistance, not to lay himself open to the charge of being in any way responsible for the shedding of French blood. His method of gaining time is to insist upon a point which as a soldier he is well aware the Allies cannot accept at this moment. If we are generally successful tonight (in the landings) we will not be surprised to find him more conciliatory tomorrow morning. Eagle and I are bitterly disappointed, principally because of the help Kingpin could have rendered except for his intense personal ambition and ego."

He sends out a coded message, as planned, to General Mast at Casablanca, saying that Giraud is working closely with the Allies and he intends to arrive in Algiers or Casablanca shortly after the invasion. Aides notice that Giraud's signature looks a lot like Eisenhower's handwriting.

Eisenhower estimates the success of Torch at 50-50.

At 3 p.m., U-505 spots a smoke trail and finds an unescorted freighter. The first watch officer sets up the attack. Cszchech, at the periscope, says, "Target speed 12, depth four." The first watch officer orders torpedo tubes one and two set.

"Torpedoes...fire!" Cszchech barks, and two fish are on the way. As they sprint to the target, Cszcehch sees he's overestimated the target's speed. "What speed did you tell them?" he asks.

"Twelve knots, Herr Kaleu."

"I told you 10," Cszcech retorts. "Prepare to fire tubes three and four, target speed ten knots."

Two minutes later the torpedoes hit the steamer, both forward of the stack. U-505's War Diary notes, "Two mast high black splashes, no fire on deck. Life boats sent out. Steamer immediately down by the bow. Aft section out of water. Steamer sinks. Did not send SOS. Left her to sink and departed. Estimated size 5500 BRT." The kill takes U-505's lifetime total up to 46,200 tons. Cszchech may be annoying his crew, but he's an efficient commander.

Salazar, who usually goes to bed after dinner, tries to put Campbell off until morning. Campbell insists. Salazar agrees to see the Briton at 1 a.m.

Patton writes in his diary: "This morning it is very quiet and cool, almost too good to be true. Thank God. I hope He stays on our side...in 15 hours I shall be ashore."

At 11 a.m., the Luftwaffe finally locates one of the Allied convoys, 150 miles northwest of Algiers, and Ju 88 bombers swoop in, attacking the transport Thomas Stone, carrying men of the 2nd Battalion, US 39th Infantry Regiment. The Germans manage to put a bomb in the transport's stern, snapping off its screw and rudder. Determined not to miss the big show, Major Walter M. Oakes, the battalion's commander, has his men load into their small assault craft. Shepherded by the British corvette HMS Spey, the 24 assault boats sail 150 miles - battling breakdowns and seasickness - to catch up with the invasion.

The Thomas Stone, however, has to wait for tugs.

By 11:30 p.m., the Southern Attack Group is in position off Safi, eight miles offshore, with its aircraft carrier, USS Santee, and its two escorting destroyers, 60 miles out. The town's lights are visible in the distance from the ships. The Fedala and Lyautey groups reach their position near midnight.

For Casablanca, Rear Adm. Kent Hewitt, commanding the Western Task Force's ships, and Maj. Gen. George Patton, have a signal code: a unit commander intending to return French fire will signal "Batter Up," and the authorization for general offensive action will be "Play Ball." On USS Augusta, Patton himself reads a detective novel that evening, then goes to sleep at 10:30 p.m., wearing his uniform. The heavy cruiser, meanwhile, has gone to General Quarters.

Another American general nervously paces into the night on the troopship Henry T. Allen. Brig. Gen. Lucian K. Truscott Jr., a direct descendant of Thomas Jefferson and one of the Army's finest polo players, heads the invasion of Port Lyautey near Casablanca. Truscott was an observer at Dieppe, and has seen firsthand the disastrous results of a poorly planned and executed amphibious invasion. With four battalions on one transport each, he cannot afford to lose more than one transport to enemy attack.

Another worry for Truscott is Port Lyautey's terrain - the naval base and airfield are slightly inland, down the Sebou river, which makes a an upside-down U turn to enter the Atlantic. Inside the U is the airfield. The landing beaches face a steep row of dunes, with few exits. Control of the airfield is critical. Port Lyautey has one of the very few airfields in French North Africa that has concrete runways and real hangars. The rest will turn into mud when the winter rainy season starts.

Lastly, Truscott worries about the great imponderable, French reaction. Truscott has devised his own scheme, a personal letter to the local French commander, translated into French, wrapped with a neat ribbon. Two Army Air Force officers, Col. Demas Craw and Maj. Pierpont Hamilton, both fluent French-speakers, have volunteered to deliver the message.

Meanwhile, onshore, the pro-Allied General Emile Bethouart, who led French mountain units to victory at Narvik in 1940, makes his move give the Americans a friendly welcome.

Off Oran, the British fast and slow convoys converge into one force, and group into their operational columns. At 6:15 p.m., they divide into columns.

As this force's ships are all British, British operational routines are used. Beacon submarines mark rendezvous points for troop transports. Transports send motor launches to the beacon to take aboard pilot teams to the subs, and then lead the landing craft in to the beach.

At 9:45 p.m., the submarine HMS P-54 locates its point on the right-hand side, and the convoy divides for Beaches X and Y. British ships move in. At 11:15 p.m., a small French convoy of five ships and an armed trawler, all lights on, blunder into the British ships off Beach X off the cape of Mersa bou Zedjar. They take one look at the armada of warships, guns, and White Ensigns, and run ashore off the cape. Nobody is hurt, but the British are delayed.

At Beach Y, at the Baie des Andalouses, the British reach their beacon on schedule, and start lowering landing craft into the water. The heavily-burdened and inexperienced American invaders have a hard time struggling down the ladders. The first wave is ready to move at 11:45 p.m., and starts moving in on the beach.

East of Oran, 34 transports and 20 Royal Navy ships rendezvous with the submarine HMS Ursula punctually at 9:30 p.m., and reach their unloading point, 5-and-a-half miles off Beach Z at 11:15.

On his command ship, the old Pacific Coast liner Reina del Pacifico, Maj. Gen. Terry Allen, the flamboyant cavalryman who commands the 1st Infantry Division, stares into the night with some reporters. At the edge of the horizon comes a glow of light. A reporter asks nervously, "What's that?"

"The shore," Allen says nonchalantly, trying to cover his own fears. At 10:45 p.m., American troops sit in their holds on transports, awaiting the order to clamber down nets and into landing craft. Some sleep. Some pretend to sleep. Others listen to a shortwave radio broadcast from New York of the Army-Notre Dame football game.

At 11:30 p.m., windlasses and cranes start swinging out landing craft, and 1MCs on the transports blare, "Assault troops to your boarding stations!" American troops, loaded down with 40 to 70 pounds of gear, struggle up steel ladders to their landing craft.

Four G.I.s bound for Oran carry mortar-type weapons that will shoot a pyrotechnic 200 feet into the sky, which will burst into a magnificent display of the American flag, 100 feet long. French troops seeing this, it is theorized, will cease fire.

On shore, informed people are well aware that a massive Allied convoy stands offshore. Most people assume the British are trying to supply Malta. But Consul-General Robert Murphy is busy with dozens of Byzantine plots involving equally Byzantine characters to ease the invasion. Among Murphy's "allies" is a Colonel Van Hecke, who runs a pro-Allied movement of 30,000 youths. Another caller is Algerian nationalist Ferhat Abbas, who seeks Algeria's independence. He wants American support.

At 11 a.m., Lt. Col. Edson D. Raff briefs his officers, revealing that airfields A and B, their objectives, are not in France at all, but across Europe, near Oran, in French North Africa. The officers are shocked - they expected to lead the invasion of France.

"Enormous stakes are involved," Raff tells his men. "Not only will we spearhead the invasion, but the future of the paratroops is on the line. If we do well, the airborne will be greatly expanded. If we fail our paratroop units may be disbanded."

The officers rush out to their men and give them their briefings. To make matters confusing, there are two assault plants - Plan War and Plan Peace - depending on Vichy reaction. Sergeant Ray Cagle growls, "Are we supposed to go over there and fight or kiss our opponents?"

Under Plan Peace, the Americans will land at La Senia airfield outside Oran in daylight. Under Plan War, they'll make a midnight drop at Tafaraoui Airfield.

Theoretically briefed and prepared, the paratroopers pull on their full-length underwear, jumpsuit, and ensure American flags are sewn to their sleeves.

Late in the afternoon, they get the word: Plan Peace. Takeoff from RAF Predannack and St. Eval is set for 9 p.m.

The paratroopers board their C-47s in the gathering dusk. Captain Carlos "Doc" Alden, writes in his pocket diary, "Dear God, in They wisdom help me to come back. But if I do not, then help me to do my duty as an American and as a man."

Raff goes by jeep from plane to plane, shaking his fist, and shouting to his paratroopers, "Men, you know what to do. If the bastards open fire, give 'em hell."

At 9:05 p.m., the first C-47 roars down the runway and into the air. The troop carriers form up and head south, a 1,600-mile journey to Oran, flying at 10,000 feet.

As the planes gain altitude, the paratroopers inside freeze. Crewmen pass out blankets, and the paratroopers sit around, burdened with parachutes, blankets, weapons, and Mae West inflatable lifebelts (today called Dolly Partons).

For hours, the V-formations of C-47s fly across the Bay of Biscay, unimpeded by Luftwaffe snoopers. They are to fly directly over Spain - violating Franco's neutrality - gambling that the rattletrap Spanish Air Force won't spot them. But strong easterly winds, rain, and darkness make life hard for the inexperienced navigators. The ragged formation breaks up and the planes head south, of course, in ones and twos.

The paratroop task force roars along, losing touch with Gibraltar and London. On the Rock, Allied commanders send frantic messages to the airborne armada, warning them that Plan Peace has been scrapped, and the French will fight. With no answer, the Allied planners believe the first American airborne operation is headed for disaster.

But help arrives for Rommel in the form of Lt. Gen. Karl Buelowius, the Chief Engineer of the Panzerarmee, an indefatigable expert on booby-traps, demolitions, and mines. Undeterred by the situation, he jumps into the task of planting mines and booby-traps with relish.

Out in the dust, Capt. Hans von Luck's reconnaissance team continues to screen the retreat. During the day, dust on the eastern horizon turns out to be the Ramcke Brigade, slogging back. Ramcke himself looks emaciated. Von Luck radios Rommel, "General Ramcke, with 700 men and all weapons, has been discovered by us; he himself is with me at the command post."

Rommel replies that he has been very worried about the paratroopers and had almost given them up. Rommel asks to see Ramcke immediately.

That's fine with Ramcke, as the paratrooper wants to see Rommel right away. Von Luck drives Ramcke to Panzerarmee Afrika HQ. The bearded and filthy Ramcke gives Rommel a metallic smile - his false teeth are made of stainless steel. Ramcke, a Luftwaffe officer, believes Rommel's army officers have left the paratroopers out to die. Rommel ignores Ramcke's complaints and congratulates the paratrooper on extricating his unit.

The retreat continues. The RAF's bombing is not as effective as hoped, as the British have not yet learned how to properly strafe roads. The deadly Hawker Typhoon and the tank-busting rocket are more marvels yet to come.

Despite ceaseless air attacks, fuel shortages, damaged vehicles, disorganization, Panzerarmee Afrika escapes the 8th Army. Rommel writes that Montgomery risks nothing, "bold solutions are completely foreign to him." But he praises Monty, calling him "The Fox," recognizing Montgomery's astuteness, careful preparation, determination not to court setback. Montgomery, Rommel writes, will never overreach himself or expose himself to a counterattack.

Montgomery is also aware that 8th Army's drive has been less than relentless. He writes, "Generals who become depressed when things are not going well, who lack the 'drive' to get things done, and who lack the resolution, the robust mentality and the moral courage to see their plan through to the end - are useless. They are, in fact, worse than useless - they are a menace - since any sign of wavering of hesitation has immediate repercussions down the scale when the issue hangs in the balance. No battle is ever lost till the general in command thinks it so."

Brian Horrocks, commanding 13 Corps, points out that the British advance is through a maze of minefields, and the hazards of cross-country desert driving.

As Rommel retreats, Monty detaches most of 13th Corps' combat units and sends them forward under 10th Corps and 30 Corps. Horrocks' 13 Corps is left behind to mop up the battlefield, bringing in scores of abandoned Italian soldiers as POWs, and salvaging vehicles. At one point, 13 Corps is reduced to one unit in its table of organization - a salvage unit.

The POWs are herded away, and many spend much of the war as laborers in Egypt. Some are shipped in returning convoys to America and Canada, to reduce the burden on supply services in Egypt.

The Alamein battlefield itself gradually becomes silent, as the two armies move on, leaving behind vast minefields, wrecked vehicles, and shattered corpses. British casualties are about 13,500. Axis casualties are about half that number.

The Battle of El Alamein is over. The narrow space of desert between the Mediterranean and the Qattara Depression returns to silence.

On October 24, 1954, Field Marshal Montgomery unveils Hubert Worthington's memorial entrance to the El Alamein War Cemetery, which is a cloister 270 feet long. It commemorates nearly 9,000 soldiers of the British and Commonwealth forces that died in Egypt and Libya up to February 19, 1943, who have no known grave. It also commemorates servicemen who have died in Syria, Lebanon, Iraq, and Iran, who have no known grave. Nearly 5,000 of these are British, 800 New Zealanders, 300 Australian, 800 South African, and 1,800 from India. The Royal Horse Artillery and Royal Artillery lead the regiments by names with 1,020. For Australia, the 2nd/28th Battalion with 48 is tops; for New Zealand the Infantry with 551; for South Africa the Artillery and Cape Corps with 128 each; and for India, the Royal Indian Army Service Corps with 181.

The memorial also commemorates airmen who have no known grave and are based in the nations above, including Greece, the Aegean, Ethiopia, the Sudan, East Africa, Aden, and Madagascar, as well as those who served on the Rhodesian and South African Air Training Scheme. 2,000 of these airmen are British; 200 from Canada; 300 from Australia; 90 from New Zealand and more than 50 from South Africa.

7,943 men lie buried in Alamein War Cemetery. Four of them - three Australians and one Briton - hold the Victoria Cross.

Casualty figures for 9th Australian Division's part in the battle are 2,694. 620 of these are dead and 1,944 wounded. 130 are taken prisoner by Axis forces.

It doesn't come. Instead, Soviet soldiers are simply urged to "exceed their socialist promises to destroy Fritzes with they made in socialist competition." In 57th Army, the Komsomol members take that to heart. Out of 1,697 members, 678 have not yet killed any Germans.

But other celebrations of the October Revolution are more traditional. A 45th Rifle Division battalion commander and his executive officer "get drunk" while bringing up reinforcements and are "missing for 13 hours." The battalion wanders around aimlessly on the Volga's east bank.

But most Stalingrad Front divisions don't get the special vodka ration, or even their food ration. Russian troops, like soldiers of all armies throughout history, proceed to make their own liquor.

Meanwhile, Stalin himself makes a rare speech, giving his Order of the Day for the October Revolution's anniversary. His speech intrigues and cheers Russians, saying, "There will be a holiday in our street, too."

The Italian physicist grins, and places a graphite brick in one corner. What is being built is CP-1, (Chicago Pile 1), lumps of uranium spaced by graphite blocks. Each one of the 40,000 blocks is 4 1/8 inches wide and deep and 161/2 inches long. They alternate with graphite blocks with holes bored for pieces of uranium. The pile will be 24 feet in diameter.

It will also become, when complete, the first self-sustaining atomic chain reaction in history, a major step towards construction of the atomic bomb.

While Hitler's rain rumbles along, the Germans continue to ignore the situation. The Kriegsmarine's war diary comments on the mass of data, "These contradictory reports cannot give definite indications of the enemy operational goal or goals." Admiral Canaris, head of the Abwehr, takes off with his espionage chief, Colonel Hans Piekenbrock, for a conference in Copenhagen.

The Amerika clatters on through the night, heading directly for Munich. At 7 p.m., Col. Gen. Alfred Jodl gives Hitler the evening briefing. The air is stifling because of blackout curtain, and Hitler's considerable body odor and flatulence problems. Jodl reports that large Allied convoys are heading due east and will probably pass Sicily soon, while heading for Malta, Benghazi, or Tripoli. In actuality, the convoys are turning southward for Algiers and Oran.

Hitler stares down at the map through his nickel-rimmed glasses (he refuses to be photographed while wearing them), removes the glasses, and twirls them. He thinks out loud: "If these reports are true, this is the greatest fleet in the history of the world."

However, the Allies have misread the mood of French North Africa's overlords. In general, the colonists conform to the stereotypes of colonial expatriate communities around the world: clannish, bigoted, and politically reactionary. They admire Petain, the hero of Verdun, who has replaced the divided, weak and unpopular Third Republic. Petain is viewed as the firm hand on the plow. Even Petain's speeches are appeals to authoritarianism and farming - "The soil tells no lies." The philosophy of "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity" has been replaced on Vichy's lightweight aluminum coins with the phrase, "Work, Family, Fatherland."

The French also admire Hitler, who has conquered Europe, built a powerful economy and trading bloc, and cracked down on Jews, trade unions, and Communists. Hitler's racial rhetoric matches the colonists' bigoted views. The French are happy to see Jewish businessmen in Algiers forced to sell everything they own at very low prices.

The French are also angry with the British, whom they blame for dragging them into the war in 1939, and running away at Dunkirk in 1940, leaving France to German conquest. The French also have bitter memories of what they consider Britain's perfidy in attacking the French fleet at Mers-el-Kebir near Oran, in 1940. Charles De Gaulle is seen as a usurping adventurist at best, a traitor at worst.

But they are also angered at their sense of being used by Germany and Britain as puppets in a vast global game. While Petain is universally admired, his key henchmen, Pierre Laval and Admiral Jean Louis Xavier Francois Darlan, are universally hated. Many of the French generals and NCOs in the African army are among her finest, heirs to the traditions of Napoleon, seasoned warriors who were denied a chance to fight for France's honor and liberty in 1940. They are determined to restore this vanquished great power to her proper place in the world. Torch will be their opportunity.