The Steel Wave - Jeff Shaara [25]
There was silence for a few moments. Eisenhower knew he had to say something to break the gloom. Bradley was looking at him from across the table, a hopeful expression with just a hint of anxiety. Eisenhower nodded toward him—Yes, I know—and said, “Sir, I believe matters in Italy will resolve themselves. General Marshall has already suggested that General Lucas be replaced in the field by Lucian Truscott. As you know, General Truscott served as my deputy in North Africa, and he has already been promoted as Lucas’s number-two man.” He looked at Brooke now. “I do not agree, sir, that removing some of our key people from Italy was premature. I know that General Wilson would agree, as would General Alexander. They have the resources and the skill. Despite the difficulties, they will get the job done. I would add that General Marshall has absolute faith in our people in that theater.”
Churchill jabbed the air with his cigar. “Yes, dammit, we do as well. Jumbo Wilson was not given command of the Mediterranean because he was pretty. He’ll kick the proper backsides. Let the matter rest, for now. If General Marshall believes Truscott is the man, so be it.”
At the far end of the table, Montgomery slowly rose, claiming the floor. Churchill looked that way, the others as well, and Eisenhower knew it was Montgomery’s design, a curtain rising on some dramatic show. Montgomery smoothed his sweater, the strange turtleneck he almost always wore.
“I concur. Jumbo Wilson will not be denied, and with our allies put on the right track, the enemy will not resist for long. My concerns are those facing us right here. I am wondering what sort of progress has been made regarding the transport of the gasoline booster xylidine. I have heard no reports yet of any shipments reaching our air boys.”
It was pure theater. Glancing at Air Marshal Tedder, Eisenhower saw the man clench his jaw. “I have received assurances from General Marshall that supplies of the gasoline booster are being produced as we speak. Shipments will be forthcoming beginning in early March.”
He paused. Montgomery was eyeing him, as though seeking more formal assurance. Eisenhower heard the words in his own mind: No, don’t swallow the hook. Keep it simple.
“Since we have made it a point at this meeting to express our combined faith in those people who are on the job in Italy, perhaps we should do the same for the men right here. I am assured by my supply and ordnance people that when supplies of all kinds reach these shores, they will be efficiently distributed. No one needs to be reminded of his job.”
Montgomery seemed satisfied and sat down; Bradley was looking at Eisenhower again, a slight smile. Yes, Brad, get used to this. Monty is going to let us know how well every one of us is doing our jobs. I just hope he does his.
SHAEF, BUSHEY PARK, OUTSIDE LONDON
FEBRUARY 16, 1944
“Right now, our best estimate for the target date is early June, the fifth, sixth, or seventh. Good moon, the tide is low at dawn. The original plan suggested May, but with the operation now so much larger, we need another month for preparation. The air boys are happier too, thinking the extra warm weather will give them a few more days of bombing. We’ll take all that we can get. As for the date and hour of the assault—well, the chiefs have left that in my hands, thank God. All they sent me was this.”
Eisenhower handed the order to Bradley, who read for a moment. “Brief and to the point.