Charles J. Dick

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Being a student in a class taught by the brightest, most rigorous professor on campus probably guarantees an opportunity for maximum learning, but sitting in the master's classroom can also induce fear about strict grading. Charles Dick, formerly a senior lecturer at the Soviet Studies Research Center and senior fellow at the Defence Academy of the UK, proves to be a stellar author as well as instructor, and readers will surely learn a great deal from his book, in which the protagonists don't always receive passing grades. Fortunately for the GPAs of avid students of the war, the harsh marks handed out during this dazzling tour de force are reserved exclusively for Allied generals who ran the campaign on the western front during the summer of 1944.

With so many books already written about the day-by-day course of these battles, some students of the war might wonder why they should bother to read another. However, much like Doubler, Mansoor, Carafano, Balkoski, Keegan, and a few others, Dick devotes less attention to exactly what happened, and more attention to exactly what doctrines, decisions, and other factors influenced events. Indeed, Dick takes such scrutiny appreciably further. In particular, the author conducts deep examinations, almost "psycho-military inquisitions," of the key Allied leaders in France. In that sense, his approach probably most closely matches that of Russell Weigley in Eisenhower's Lieutenants. By comparison, even though many of Weigley's conclusions aren't far removed from Dick's, the classic title from 1981 tended to award passing grades to most of the generals, or at least excuse their shortcomings, whereas Dick sometimes seems on the verge of flunking every officer who commanded an Allied army or army group. While that might sound like an overly severe approach, exploring some of the blunders and failures that occurred during the campaign can cause readers to wonder how the American, British, and Canadian forces ever managed to emerge victorious in the theater. Furthermore, Dick in his donnish manner is never shy about apportioning responsibility for each and every blunder and failure.

The first chapter of From Victory to Stalemate offers an abridged lesson in military science plus thumbnail biographies of all the usual suspects, including Dwight Eisenhower, Bernard Montgomery, Omar Bradley, etc. Dick then reviews the experience of US, British, and Canadian ground forces in 19th Century conflicts, World War I, the interwar years, and the beginning of World War II. For the Yanks, of course, he has much to say about how military educations built around the memory of the American Civil War continued to shape the thinking of professional officers. In many cases he compares the doctrine and experience of the three western Allies to developments in the German and Soviet armies. All in all, the chapter emphasizes that the Allied generals and their armies had much to overcome before they could measure up to their opponents in the theater. Of particular interest, in a telling irony, the western armies for various reasons all suffered from a more-or-less severe lack of infantry replacements—making them relatively fragile and casualty-averse—while a variety of other factors simultaneously caused them to generally rely on attritional warfare. This dichotomy would not prove to be a recipe for painless success in 1944.

The second chapter carries the story forward to "the Tipping Point" near the end of July.
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In all, by 25 July, the Allies had deployed 1,452,000 soldiers—512,000 American and 640,000 British and Canadian; 6,757 tanks and tank destroyers—3,371 American and 3,386 British-Canadian (excluding replacements for about 2,100 already lost); and 3,240 artillery pieces—1,720 American and 1,520 British-Canadian. The Germans had committed about 490,000 men to Normandy but had taken almost 117,000 casualties and received only 10,078 replacements; their strength by 25 July was therefore approximately 380,000. They had sent 1,869 tanks, assault guns, and self-propelled (SP) antitank guns (including replacements) but had written off about 450 (and another 450 or so were in workshops). They had also sent 1,672 artillery pieces; the number lost is unknown, but the figure was probably considerable. It is noteworthy that, despite this wasting of strength on the invasion front, Normandy continued to be starved of the troops needed to hold the German line. There were twenty-four divisions (most of them tired) or parts of divisions in Normandy, eighteen between the Seine and Amsterdam awaiting a second cross-Channel assault, and eleven elsewhere in France (another invasion, in the south of France, was expected imminently). The seriousness of the German maldeployment is well illustrated by the fact that in Normandy, the only active front in the west, the Allies enjoyed a 3.8:1 superiority in manpower, 4.7:1 in armor, and about 3:1 in artillery. The last figure is seriously misleading, however, as German ammunition supply was woefully inadequate; American guns, for instance, were firing four times as many shells per day.

Force ratios are important, but they do not tell the whole story when assessing relative strength. Qualitative factors can be very significant too. Several historians have explained the initially slow progress of the Allied armies in Normandy, especially the British, by reference to German technological superiority in combination with terrain that was ideal for defense. This contention deserves some consideration.
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From that page, with the Allies firmly ashore in Normandy, Dick does indeed begin a deeper consideration of the opposing armor, infantry, terrain, etc. He immediately raises many interesting points. For example, compared to Mansoor and Rush, he praises the German MG 42 as a weapon capable of pinning Allied infantrymen to the ground, armed as they were with nothing that could respond in kind. On the other hand, he has less praiseworthy to say about German 88s versus armor, claiming because of various shortcomings these dual-purpose guns—much feared by the Allies—"...were used in the anti-tank role only in extremis." However, this book is really about the operational art, not infantry weapons, AT guns, or small-unit tactics, and the author, for all his thoughtful insights, doesn't dig deeply into squad-vs-squad detail. Accordingly, chapter two expends at least as many pages on airpower in France as it does on the ground, all the while concentrating on facets of the campaign important at the theater, army group, army, and corps level.

The chapter also neatly integrates into the equation the French Resistance and Allied special forces. Notwithstanding Eisenhower's famous quote about their value—"worth half a dozen divisions"—Dick downgrades the importance of the Resistance, concluding "they accomplished relatively little of operational significance." He is more favorably disposed toward special forces such as the Jedburgh teams.

"The Tipping Point" chapter further devotes eight pages to intelligence. Although the Germans maintained some effective tactical recon efforts (including Arado 234 photo-reconnaissance missions), the Allies certainly held the winning hand with Ultra. By the summer of 1944, the interception, decryption, translation, evaluation, and dissemination of Ultra intelligence to army group and army headquarters was often timely enough for immediate use on the battlefield.

Having skipped the D-Day landings almost entirely, chapter two skims over the next seven weeks of action in Normandy and rolls up to the book's line of departure on 25 July.

With chapter three Dick begins to reconstruct operations in Normandy, starting with Operation Cobra. This he does with a relatively quick pen. He devotes two pages to the US plan for Cobra and six to its execution, plus three pages to "Immediate post-Cobra Operations" on 1-6 August. He is similarly concise in relating the contemporaneous Operation Bluecoat. As explained earlier in the book, Dick focuses on "operational art," the level of military thinking sandwiched between tactics and strategy. Thus, he avoids blow-by-blow, hill-by-hill, hedgerow-by-hedgerow descriptions of combat and maneuver at the tactical scale. Furthermore, most of his firepower here and in subsequent chapters is reserved for pages of analysis. In this respect, he performs a masterly dissection of operations as though they were moves in a championship chess match.
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The weakened state of Seventh Army, its parlous logistic plight, and the absence of reserves that could quickly intervene to close any breach meant that First Army was pushing at a flimsy door that was barely closed, never mind locked. This was partly due to the fact that the offensive achieved strategic and operational surprise: the former in that the Fortitude deception had, until too late, denied Army Group B in Normandy the infantry divisions that would give depth to the defense and release panzer divisions from a frontline, static defense role; the latter because the Americans had adopted an unexpected approach as to method. It was also a tribute to the success of Montgomery's operational idea of pinning the enemy's main strength on the left in order to break out on the right. And, of course, it was a consequence of the heavy attrition inflicted on Seventh Army over the previous weeks. Of particular importance was the systematic weakening over time of the Germans' ability to fight. By 25 July, air interdiction had left most units so short of fuel and ammunition that prolonged resistance was no longer possible. For all the attention paid to the massive preliminary air bombardment, the air arm's most important contribution to victory had been cutting the bridges over the Loire and all but closing down rail traffic to Seventh Army dumps.

To admit the weakness of the defense is not to denigrate the American achievement, which was unprecedented in the Normandy campaign: the Americans advanced almost 60 km (40 miles) on the critical west flank, opened the way into Brittany, and inflicted about 10,000 losses on the enemy (killed, wounded, and captured), all in the space of seven days. It is the vigorous, flexible exploitation that makes Cobra notable as an example of operational art, not the breakthrough. The unfolding of the operation illustrates the importance of tempo to success. The initial failure to achieve it in VII Corps' main effort, first in the penetration and then in the advance to Coutances, doomed the shallow envelopment to failure. This was redeemed by the rapidity with which 2 Armored Division formed a deeper encirclement. First Army's timely change of concept was complemented by the speedy reorganization and change of axis of VII Corps. As a result, XLVII Panzer Corps arrived too late to restore the integrity of the defense; all it could achieve was a very limited counterpenetration, which was outflanked to decisive effect. VII Corps' accelerating advance was coupled with the Patton-driven acceleration of VIII Corps, which turned retreat into rout on the coastal axis. Crossings over the last obstacles before open country was reached were seized before demolition could be carried out and defense organized.
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Dick, in a lecture scholarly and lively, continues to deliver deep analysis, strong opinions, and quotable lines as he evaluates Allied performances in Cobra and Bluecoat. He names names and enumerates errors. No general is completely immune to his stringent grading, but Dick treats them fairly. He sides with the school of thought that believes Montgomery—rather than actually trying to break out around Caen—truly intended to draw German panzer strength to the British front in order to allow the Yanks the chance to break through thinned out defenses. But he also chides Monty for constantly behaving as though everything always worked exactly according to his master plan. Bradley is rebuked for never really understanding mobile warfare, yet credited with good generalship during Cobra. Nevertheless, the author writes "For all his deprecation of Montgomery's alleged tendency toward over-caution, Bradley was slower to recognize the desirability of exploiting the breakout with an immediate, vigorous push eastward." Dick likewise discusses the strengths and weaknesses of army and corps commanders such as George Patton, Courtney Hodges, Lawton Collins, Miles Dempsey, and others during this phase of the battle. While his preliminary description of events is brief, his appraisals are long, strong, and to the point.

In early August, with the success of Cobra, the German position in Normandy was no longer tenable. Instead of withdrawing, however, Hitler ordered the Mortain counterattack. Upon its failure, the Allies attempted to close the Falaise pocket and bag the bulk of their opponents. These events comprise chapter four. As in chapter three, Dick provides a relatively short description of the action, followed by a lengthy, highly cogent evaluation of all the factors involved in shaping plans, decisions, battles, and outcomes. As usual, he spares no general who failed to live up to the highest professional standards. The analysis—like a post-mortem of a particularly realistic wargame—methodically reviews and judges leadership at each army and army group. Here are a few of his comments on leadership from this chapter.

Patton receives the highest marks at this stage of the campaign. "That the German defense in Normandy unraveled so completely and, above all, so quickly was due largely to Patton's energy and audacity, often in spite of the wishes of his more cautious superior." Nevertheless, it later becomes clear that the grades Old Blood and Guts receives from Dick are not always perfect.

Dempsey receives mediocre marks because he displayed insufficient boldness, although this might have been Montgomery's restraining hand. Dick also emphasizes that the British army simply wasn't trained for maneuver and pursuit.

Guy Simonds wins approval during this phase of the battle for imaginative and innovative thinking, despite flaws in his plan for Operation Totalize. Dick further suggests Harry Crerar was way over his head, and intimidated by Simonds.
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While Simonds spent considerable time with his division commanders, it was because he (rightly) reposed little trust in their tactical competence. His cold, critical presence inspired mainly fear. He commanded forcefully, rather than led. Crerar preferred to stay at his main HQ, generally 60 km (40 miles) from corps HQs, where he involved himself in the details of staff work and frequently had problems distinguishing among the essential, the important, and the trivial. He made forward visits, usually daily, but did not go below corps level. Both Crerar and his HQ lacked experience of actual battle, and in August it showed. His generalship was immature and flawed, being prone to half measures because of a mixture of fear of failure and overoptimism (as well as some dubious British doctrine). The planning of the operation was left largely to Simonds, the man Montgomery would have preferred as army commander. For the most part, Crerar found that he was reduced to being a conduit between Montgomery and Simonds, and he was sometimes bypassed even in that role. His contribution was largely exhortatory, although he did play an important part in obtaining heavy bomber support from the air forces. Both Crerar and Simonds were firmly wedded to British concepts of secure bases and flanks; massive fire plans (including air) to avoid unnecessary casualties; tight, centralized control; and balance—that is, the avoidance of risk as an important principle of combat. Neither displayed a feel for the way battle developed, insisting on sticking to the complex plan and blaming subordinates when that plan went wrong. Simonds, however, would eventually develop a "fingertip feel" for battle, which Crerar never did. Simonds's judgment was both sounder and far more creative.
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Dick reserves some of his strongest criticism for Hodges. "He was another commander who could not live comfortably with the chaos of war.... He lacked the ability to think beyond the current battle.... At best, Hodges was a competent plodder and a safe if uninspiring manager.... Neither professional growth nor imagination and flair had qualified him to command an army by August 1944."

To Montgomery, the author attaches "considerable responsibility for failure to seal the Falaise pocket in good time." Nevertheless, Dick remains mostly complimentary of the soon-to-be field marshal.

As to Bradley, his leadership and decisions during these post-Cobra operations reflected a lack of imagination (which remains a common criticism for many generals throughout the book), with the new army group commander mostly responding to ideas presented by Montgomery and Patton. Dick also claims that Bradley's dislike of Monty warped Brad's judgment on more than one occasion. In any event, Bradley never rises from these pages as Ike's strong right arm.

The chapter concludes with an extensive profile of Eisenhower, almost psychological in nature. Dick is basically satisfied with some aspects of Ike's performance as Supreme Commander at this point, notably his political, public, and administrative skills, but fully aware of the general's operational/strategic shortcomings. These come to light even more fully in subsequent phases of the campaign.

Of the Allied breakthrough and the Falaise pocket, despite the appearance of success, Dick—always the professor wielding his red pen—deems this a staggering failure. Handled properly, these operations should have destroyed enemy forces in France—not merely damaged them—and allowed the Allies to march into Germany, exactly as many generals, politicians, and correspondents believed would happen at the time. For this failure, the author cites lack of unity of command as the fundamental factor. Eisenhower, in the professor's opinion, bears the blame for that state of affairs.

In chapter five, Dick first recounts the May 1944 forecast by SHAEF planners regarding the likely progression of events following Overlord and operations in Normandy. This planning document, which Dicks brands as little more than guesswork, outlined four possible routes into Germany. It also noted that Berlin would remain too distant and unattainable to be considered a serious strategic objective within the framework of immediate expectations. Instead, the Ruhr was highlighted as the key target for post-Normandy consideration. Following its capture and the destruction of German forces which would surely be committed to defend such a crucial economic center, the western Allied armies would be poised to march to Berlin.

Given the reality of the breakout from Normandy, and the defeat of German forces at Falaise—indecisive though it was—the Allied pursuit toward the east eventuated much sooner than SHAEF planners had anticipated, and in a much more headlong fashion. Accordingly, Eisenhower faced decisions about how to allocate his armies and resources—in particular, logistical support—for the new phase of operations. Dick discusses in much detail the well-known debate about the "broad vs narrow" advance. He makes the point that Ike's characterization of Montgomery's concept as a "pencil-like" thrust completely missed the mark on what was intended by the field marshal to involve 24 British, Canadian, and US divisions. While Montgomery argued long and loud—no surprise there—for adoption of his bold offensive concept, eventually Ike—at Bradley's urging—fell back on a much more cautious plan that was entirely in keeping with his military education and the realities of coalition warfare. The advance would be on a broad front, all at once, with no single focal point.

Many other historians have written about this phase of the war and the decision-making that led to rejection of Montgomery's plan. Dick scrutinizes it much more minutely than most other authors. He also makes one very telling point—even though he does so in passing, without much emphasis—in his inquiry into the factors and personalities involved in the decision, a point that flows naturally from his previous assessment of Montgomery's attributes as a military leader. In an offensive requiring bold, rapid, risky, and extremely mobile operations rather than a "dog fight," would meat grinder Monty—he of lengthy preparation, set-piece battle, and constant balance—really be the right man to lead the charge?

The same chapter looks at Allied intelligence and its shortcomings (such as failure to recognize most of the Germans filing into POW cages were rear echelon troops rather than front-line combatants), delves into Operation Market-Garden (with some less than favorable commentary about Lewis Brereton and Boy Browning, as well as a few choice words about the unsuitability of allowing airmen to make crucial decisions about the employment of airborne divisions), and follows the Allied advance to its culmination (emphasizing how limitations imposed by intractable fuel shortages were exacerbated by a certain amount of mishandling of divisions and missed opportunities). By the end of September, just as at the end of August, the Allies had accomplished a great deal, but failed to deliver a knock-out punch. The biggest difference? At the end of August, the Allies faced disorganized resistance with good weather conditions for conducting ground and air operations, while at the end of September they faced revitalized German defenses and deteriorating weather conditions.

Some of Dick's insights from the end of chapter five bear quoting here:
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By the end of September, the Allied offensive had culminated all along the front and had fallen short of all its operational terrain objectives. Despite the enormous casualties incurred in restoring a cohesive front, the German army, far from being destroyed or disintegrated, was becoming somewhat stronger. None of the theatre's three top land commanders clearly recognized that their culminating point had arrived. Montgomery, for one, was characteristically unprepared to admit failure. He was not even prepared to admit, however tacitly, that his main effort should now shift to opening up Antwerp. His eyes remained fixed on the Rhine; he still believed that his army group should be the main effort and that time might still be on his side if he could strike immediately. Perhaps the river could no longer be bounced, but it could be forced in a less spatially ambitious operation in tandem with an American thrust on Cologne....

Bradley's offensive had failed as surely, if not as spectacularly, as 21 Army Group's with Market Garden. He was no more daunted by what he perceived as a mere setback than was Montgomery. The German forces were still believed to be on the verge of disintegration. With luck, attacks across the front would find a weak spot that would permit a rapid advance to the Rhine. There would, however, be a need for an operational pause. The logistic situation would have to be improved to allow the deployment of grounded divisions and those freed up from Brest, as well as to build up ammunition stocks to levels required for attacks on a defending enemy rather than pursuit. Greater concentration would have to be achieved on the main axis....

The end of September had seen the effective end of Montgomery's operational idea. For want of a better one, the broad-front advance continued against steadily stiffening resistance by an enemy that was recovering grip, balance, and strength. The Germans were greatly aided by the dismal state of Allied supply (until it ameliorated in November), by having fortifications to fight from, by poor weather that lessened Allied close air support and interdiction, and by increasingly restricted going. As the summer crisis eased, the Fuehrer's thoughts turned once again to the attack. On 16 September he announced his decision in favor of a counteroffensive through the Ardennes with the objective of Antwerp.... But the Germans were supposed to be nearing the end of their tether, not hitting back. The Allied autumn offensive had been intended to retain the initiative, exhaust the enemy all across the front, and move Allied forces at least up to the Rhine and in some places across it. Instead, it had failed to destroy the enemy or seize operationally important terrain, and it gave rise to US vulnerability without compensatory gain. The Germans would hit the weakest part of the line, manned by overstretched American divisions worn down in the Hurtgen battle. Bradley was badly unbalanced and lacked any operational reserve to meet the blow.

On 30 November Montgomery wrote to Eisenhower, recapitulating the aims of the autumn campaign and concluding pithily and brutally: "We have achieved none of this; and we have no hope of doing so. We have therefore failed; and we have suffered a strategic reverse." It is difficult to disagree with this verdict.
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With the theater returning to the stalemated condition that had characterized most of the campaign in Normandy, chapter six finds Dick assiduously reviewing the logistical considerations that constrained the Allies and helped end their race across France. Part of the chapter details the calculus of forecasts, tonnages, distances, capacities, expenditures, wastage, deliveries, etc that defined the supply situation. As part of the review, the author provides many mathematical particulars (with some data derived from sources such as Ruppenthal and Waddell), including, for example, the routes on which various POL pipelines were laid across the French countryside and the dates on which those "pipe heads" reached various localities behind the front line. Equally as important, he thoroughly measures needs vs deliveries and calculates "the operational consequences of logistics failure." Among his comments, Dick takes a few shots here and elsewhere at J. C. H. "Jesus Christ Himself" Lee, Ike's emperor of supply. In the final pages of the chapter, the author moves into what for him is some fairly uncharacteristic speculation about what might—or might not—have been possible if numbers of US divisions had been "grounded" in static positions in order to provide the maximum logistical support for Montgomery's "narrow front" proposal.

Chapter seven, "Command, Operational Art, and Generalship," wraps up the book with Dick recapitulating and elaborating on earlier themes and presenting fresh insights. The first item he discusses, the pros and cons of naming a land forces commander, deserves to be quoted here:
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Arguably, Eisenhower was correct in maintaining that acting as both army group and land forces commander was too big a job for one man, particularly if, like Montgomery, he had a less than broad-brush approach to the former task. Certainly, this was what von Kluge and Model found when they were in charge of both the western theatre and Army Group B—and they operated within a system that ceded more autonomy to subordinates. Moreover, the span of command was about to expand to encompass not two but three army groups when Devers's forces reached the area of Dijon. But Eisenhower's argument applied equally against himself. The Supreme Command was a multifaceted and onerous job requiring Eisenhower's rare combination of skills and a great deal of time. Wedding that role (and that of commander of US forces in the ETO) with the role of land forces commander would ensure that neither got the full attention it deserved. If the combined job of land forces and army group commander was too much for one man, surely the combination of Supreme Command and land command was too much as well? That had been the rationale for giving Eisenhower, when newly appointed Supreme Commander in the Mediterranean theatre in 1942, a land forces commander (in that case, Alexander, when there was only one army group to manage). Eisenhower was correct, of course, that Montgomery wanted to use the position he coveted to implement his own operational idea. But was that any more unreasonable than denying him the position because Eisenhower had an alternative idea? Certainly, it would be better to pursue a single course of action vigorously, provided it was not demonstrably erroneous, than to compromise and follow several courses and, in consequence, fall short in all—which is what actually happened.

In the debate, neither general could reveal his most fundamental reason for demurring. Montgomery forbore from pointing out his main objection to the amalgamation of responsibilities: that Eisenhower, with only staff experience, lacked the practical training, expertise, and experience to be a credible operational-level commander. Moreover, he lacked the means (such as Montgomery's Phantom GHQ Signal Regiment and system of personal liaison officers) to keep his finger on the pulse of battle. Lacking a complete and up-to-date picture of the operational situation and a true feel for combat, and continually distracted by other necessary but operationally unimportant matters, Eisenhower would perforce rely on the normal reporting chain, with all its delays, omissions, and spin imparted by self-serving subordinates. These reports would be supplemented by personal visits forward, but only when he could escape the myriad nonoperational demands competing for his time and attention. Similarly, Eisenhower could not voice his main argument: that Montgomery had to relinquish command because he was simply no longer acceptable to the US military, from Marshall downward. Montgomery's growing estrangement from American commanders stemmed from his doubts about their command abilities and theirs about his; these doubts, combined with personality clashes, required the limitation of his command to Anglo-Canadian forces. Indeed, by that stage of the war, given the preponderance of American forces and national pride, no British general would have been acceptable to the US government and to the general public. Then there was the Briton's intriguing idea that Bradley be appointed in his stead—a suggestion that was likely disingenuous. Montgomery probably felt safe in his display of modesty and self-abnegation when he offered to serve under Bradley. Whether or not Bradley was seen as an unalloyed success in his brief tenure as army group commander, three weeks in the role could hardly be considered adequate preparation for further elevation, which seemed to leave no alternative to Montgomery. Regardless of Eisenhower's thoughts about Bradley's capacity for the job, he certainly knew that the general's appointment would not have settled the issue, if only because Bradley would have had difficulty controlling Montgomery and at the same time maintaining harmony between the army groups. The job required the political awareness, tact, and skills that Eisenhower possessed and his principal subordinates did not.
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The chapter highlights political stresses inherent in coalition warfare (an issue that didn't really concern the Soviets in 1944) as well as mutual misunderstandings, perceived slights, and growing personal antagonisms, especially involving Montgomery. In some cases, problems were aggravated by rather rabid and nationalistic war correspondents influencing public opinion. Reading some of these paragraphs can make readers wonder how the alliance held together until the job was done.

Of course, many of the disagreements stemmed from fundamental dissimilarities in doctrine and competing concepts of operations. Dick studies these matters in depth, comparing the divergent philosophies and inspecting how these differences applied to various situations on the ground and contributed to missed opportunities. Among other elements, Dick suggests that Eisenhower might have achieved better results by "alternating blows on different axes," which, although not mentioned at that point, would seem to be an approach favored by Stavka on the Russian Front.

Over the next 45 pages Dick reviews one-by-one the performance of each top-level Allied headquarters in the theater during the summer: SHAEF, 21st Army Group, 12th Army Group, British 2nd Army, Canadian 1st Army, US 1st Army, and US 3rd Army as well as, in passing, Lee's COMZ. As might be expected at this juncture, the generals are all graded very strictly on the final exam. Some receive much better ratings than others, but no one emerges unscathed. Again, readers might ponder how the Allies ever won the campaign with this cast of characters running the show. Part of Dick's final assessment of Patton serves as an excellent example of the fitness reports that flow out of his red pen.
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Some historians, and some of his contemporaries, have argued that Patton would have been the best man to command 12 Army Group. It is true that his generalship displayed many positive features. His leadership coaxed or compelled greater results from subordinates than they thought they were capable of; Eddy, for instance, irritated Patton with his ingrained caution and conservatism and corresponding lack of enthusiasm for audacious maneuver, but he surely would have exercised even less initiative had he been under Hodges's command. Patton also inspired loyalty from his staff and subordinate commanders, and this enhanced Third Army's performance. His stamina, courage, and relentless optimism had much to do with this. His boldness and decisiveness were legendary. However, he had serious shortcomings. He was altogether too abrasive to enjoy a fruitful and cooperative relationship with his principal ally (a problem compounded, of course, by the fact that Montgomery's character was, in that respect, all too similar). He showed little loyalty toward his superiors; for instance, he constantly carped about the Supreme Commander's alleged pro-British bias and at one time urged joint resignation on Bradley if Eisenhower proposed putting any American formations under Montgomery's control. He deliberately tried to deceive Eisenhower, ignored his intent, and endeavored actively, with Bradley's collusion, to undermine the Supreme Commander's campaign plan and reorient the American effort southward. He then relished his defiance of orders to wind down offensive action. His acumen did not extend beyond operational to logistic matters: logistic realities were not malleable to his will and shaped and constrained his actions in a way that he found unacceptable, so he tried to ignore them or perhaps overcome them by exhorting others to make the problem go away. Above all, perhaps, he (again with Bradley) displayed a lack of strategic vision and judgment. Seizure of the Saarland and the Frankfurt objective would not decide the war: they were of minor economic and political importance, and the routes from there to really worthwhile objectives—the Ruhr and Hitler's capital—were 300 km (185 miles) and 500 km (310 miles) away, respectively, and across generally difficult country. Like SHAEF, Bradley and Patton knew the Ruhr was the heart of the German war economy, just as Berlin was Germany's political heart, and the easiest, fastest, and least defensible routes to them lay north of the Ardennes and across the north German plain. It would be justifiable to advance on both avenues simultaneously only if doing so were logistically feasible and only if success in the north were certain. But both generals were more concerned about competing with their ally than cooperating with him; their goal was to achieve American and personal triumphs, regardless of whether these contributed significantly to campaign objectives. By championing the southern approach to the "heart of Germany," even though they knew the essential precondition had not been met, Bradley and Patton demonstrated a lack of operational-strategic judgment that ought to have disqualified them both from army group command.
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Ultimately, however, for the failure of American, British, and Canadian armies to produce a war-winning victory in the summer of 1944, Dick lays blame squarely on Eisenhower, with the "narrow-minded, selfish disloyalty and willfulness of Montgomery and Bradley" playing an important role in undermining the Supreme Commander.
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Eisenhower's approach to command thus had a great deal to recommend it, as long as the strategic and operational situation developed gradually and his principal subordinates were in broad agreement about the concept of operations. It was ill suited to achieving decisive effect in fast-developing situations such as those that pertained in August and September, when those commanders were at loggerheads over the direction the campaign should take. It also required his army group and army commanders to be men of goodwill, prepared not only to compromise but also to live up to the commitments they made, to suppress their egos and prejudices and act in the spirit of his directives, and to cooperate constructively to further the common aim. In the late summer of 1944, this could not be said of Montgomery, Bradley, Patton, or J. C. H. Lee.
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In the classroom of 1944, Dick grades the generals very strictly indeed. Had this book been written and published when some of these wartime figures remained alive, the critiques undoubtedly would have provoked an outbreak of scathing letters in The Times. Nonetheless, while Dick demonstrates repeatedly how he can be a harsh critic of some Allied decisions and decision-makers, even the harshest arbiter would find it difficult to fault the author's logic and judgements. Not every fact, insight, and opinion is completely new and unique or utterly evenhanded, but Dick's constant torrent of information and pronouncements always feels rational and convincing.

The two volumes of Decisive and Indecisive Military Operations were originally conceived as a single book. In addition to assessing the military competence of the western Allies in the operational art, Dick continues the same process with Soviet armies on the Eastern Front. Furthermore, the manner in which the Americans, British, and Canadian armies waged the war in the west is compared and contrasted to the way Soviet armies conducted the war in the summer of 1944. However, the additional 300+ pages of analysis of Stalin's military machine and east versus west comparisons now reside in From Defeat to Victory: The Eastern Front, Summer 1944, which puts that part of the author's work outside the bounds of this review. For the moment, suffice it to say that in volume two Dick remains equally strict and incisive. Students will want to sign up for the author-lecturer's second class.

Meanwhile, despite a glut of worthy books covering the same theater and timeframe as From Victory to Stalemate: The Western Front, Summer 1944, the author has produced a remarkable volume that stands out from the crowd. No matter how many other tomes on this subject already fill library shelves, the addition of Dick's book greatly contributes to a deeper understanding of why the war in France unfolded as it did. This is a virtuoso performance. It stands indisputably as one of the best books ever published about the campaign, as well as one of the best new books of the year.

Very highly recommended.

Available from online booksellers, local bookshops, or directly from University Press of Kansas.

Thanks to UPK for providing this review copy.

Reviewed 11 December 2016… (mere)