He also knew a little of the new man, and did not like what he knew.
Molyneux had pestered De Gaulle constantly, his previous commands having been of lowly nature and experiencing little combat. De Gaulle saw the opportunity to rid himself of the annoyance and sent the man to De Lattre, with orders that the Commander of First Army could not ignore.
Pierce was a fair man, so decided to stay nothing of his inside knowledge, in order to give Molyneux every chance.
“As you will see, that may be our fault, General Lavalle.”
“Never mind, it is of no import Général. Now, where is your command?”
Moving to a map already surrounded by Lavalle’s staff, Pierce traced a route before stopping the other side of the Rhine.
“My lead elements were at Soufflenheim forty minutes ago. The rest of my unit is either debussing at Hagenau or en route to Hagenau from Landau, where we reconstituted.”
“Reconstituted?”
“We were hit very hard in the opening days, General. My unit was still quite green, and we lost more than our innocence when the Russians attacked.”
“And now, General Pierce?”
“Now?”
A look swept quickly across Pierce’s face, carrying pain, hurt and anger in equal measure. It was quickly replaced with resolve.
“Now, we’re light on everything, but my boys are itching for a scrap, General Lavalle. It’s payback time for us, and from what I hear, this is just the right unit to go in harm’s way with.”
Lavalle accepted the compliment on behalf of his legionnaires.
“Apologies, I am at error. Let us meet those who do the soldiering in this Corps.”
Introductions were made between the Legion unit commanders and the Americans, Pierce himself beckoning forward his previously hesitant seniors.
As the handshakes fell away, Bittrich informed Lavalle that the briefing was ready.
To a man, the ensemble checked either the wall clock or their watches, the fact that fourteen minutes had passed indicative of the way that the Legion Corps did its business.
“Excellent work, Willi! That leaves time for soldiers talk and more coffee.”
Which talk and coffee occupied the intervening period before Général Molyneux descended the stairs and all was formality once more.
Bittrich’s briefing, he insisted on doing it himself, was masterly, leaving no loophole for criticism, even from a man trying desperately hard to find one.
None the less, Molyneux managed to trash a lot of the staff work by producing the new order of battle, one of his aides taping it to the wall of the operations room.
Of course, at the head of the Corps and in bold letters was Molyneux’s name and rank.
Beneath that there were now three commands, A and B discarded, now named formally as ‘Normandie’, ‘Lorraine’, and ‘Aquitaine’.
Each senior officer was naturally drawn to his own particular section.
Knocke noted that ‘Camerone’ was now partnered by ‘Alma’ and the newly-arrived 16th Armored. And that Lavalle and Bittrich were at the head of Command Group ‘Normandie.’
Demarais’ command group, ‘Lorraine’, was headed up by a General Leroy-Bessette, the name a faint memory for no known reason of he could recall. ‘Amilakvari’ had been renamed as ‘Sevastopol’, but was still his running mate.
‘Aquitaine’ was presently unformed, awaiting the new units from Sassy before taking the field proper.
Some in the room started to notice a difference in atmosphere and became aware of another powerful presence.
Général d’Armée de Lattre de Tassigny stood silently, reading the body language in the room like a book and immediately understanding that Molyneux’s arrival had not gone well.
“Attention!”
Salutes were thrown everywhere as total silence descended.
“Gentlemen, good afternoon.”
De Lattre strode forward and offered his hand to the senior man, checking his surprised reaction when it seemed that instead of a hand in return, someone had slapped a wet fish into his palm.
“Général Molyneux.”
“Général De Lattre.”
Ever the politician, he prevented himself from recoiling, although he did clandestinely wipe it as he turned to Lavalle, catching sight of Pierce, and observed protocol for fear of upsetting the American.
“General Pierce, good to see you again.”
“And you too, Sir.”
Salute and handshake followed, both respectful, and the Frenchman noted the difference as his hand was held firmly.
De Lattre smiled and moved on.
“Général Lavalle.”
His hand was again rewarded with a firm grip, the wet fish now a fading memory.
“Congratulations on ‘Camerone’s’ recent achievement.”
“Thank you Sir. May…”
The senior man interrupted before Lavalle could continue.
“Your sentries are formidable, Lavalle.”
More than one man in the room cringed in anticipation. Only one man looked on in triumph at what he expected was to come.
“They wouldn’t let me in without seeing my papers! Excellent fellows, stood their ground. Promote them both immediately.”
More than one in the room shared the same thought.
‘Does he know?’
Ever the politician, De Lattre’s face continued to hide his prior knowledge.
The triumphant look departed Molyneux’s face as quickly as it had appeared.
“Now, my apologies for not properly informing you of the change of command. Apparently, one of my Major’s made an error in signal routing and then lied to cover it up. He is on his way here for you to use as you see fit, should you have room for another 2nd Lieutenant around here?”
It was posed as a question but De Lattre was sending the demoted man to serve in the unit he had wronged, and that was that.
“Before I am introduced to your officers, I notice that the order of battle is incorrect.”
He strode to the wall and took a moment to take it in, absorbing the grandiose lettering of Molyneux’s name, reading much into it that was wholly accurate.
‘I must watch this man closely.’
Holding out his hand in expectation, one of his Captaine’s pushed a grease pencil into it.
De Lattre went to work, turning to look at Lavalle and then crossing out the rank of ‘Normandie’s’ commander.
“We can do better than that. Général de Division Lavalle it is.”
Bittrich was next.
“For you, you are confirmed as the Corps’ senior Général de Brigade. Your contribution has been invaluable. Thank you, General.”
De Lattre then found the last man he sought, nodding at him in recognition.
‘How long ago did we meet Colonel?’
“And finally we have Général de Brigade Knocke.”
He completed his alterations and proffered the pencil to the Capitaine, who magically reappeared in place.
“Général Guillaume has done nothing but sing your praises ever since you got his Algerians out of Stuttgart.”
Knocke, ever modest, shrugged slightly.
“My men did all the work, and my report on the conduct of certain individuals has been sent forward. Many men did their duty and more that day, Sir.”
“I understand.”
Nodding at the German Colonel, ‘Général now of course’, he stopped himself from engaging Knocke in conversation and, once again businesslike, De Lattre turned to Molyneux and called him to attention.
“General, you are now confirmed as Général de Corps D’Armée, and commander of the Legion Corps D’Assault.”
The Army Commander waited whilst one of his staff appeared on cue, removing Molyneux’s three-star epaulettes, before stepping forward and placing the new four-star versions in place.