Casting a deliberate look at Tedder, he continued.
“We are going to make sure the boys in the field get the best support we can possibly give them.”
Arthur Tedder’s jaw was very deliberately set, and Eisenhower knew the man was resolved.
“We are going to pull every trick in the book, and many that haven’t yet been thought of yet, to get back to an even keel.”
A low murmur greeted his declaration.
“Tonight, right now, we are going to start this work anew. I want every gun, every bullet, every man, brought up to the field. We will get units moving tonight, supplies moving tonight, we will give our Generals the means to stop this…tonight.”
The murmur became a rumble of voices signing up to the task ahead.
Searching out Von Vietinghoff, Eisenhower specifically appealed to the German Liaison Officer.
“We will speed up the organisation and deployment of the German Republican forces.”
It was a statement, but was undoubtedly a question too, a question that received a firm nod from the German General.
Eisenhower returned the nod, knowing that the Germans would come up with more resources.
“By the morning, we will have a workable plan to stop them cold, and by the evening, a plan to roll them back. Are we clear?”
The replies were mixed, from firm and committed to doubtful and concerned.
“OK. First things first. I need Air immediately. Get them in the battle and hurting these three attacks immediately.”
“Secondly, I want the special reserve kept out of the planning for now. It is not to be sent forward, no matter what. Clear?”
That was universally understood.
“Thirdly, if it’s at sea, training in England, or resting in France, I want it, and I want it right now.”
The staff was more focussed and inspired by an Eisenhower gaining in firmness as he went further on.
“I want our old units reinforced. Comb the services again, comb the hospitals again, comb anything you want, but get manpower in the line.”
‘God but I need a cigarette!’
“I want to create new units, and I don’t care how. I want the Soviets to find new divisions, new corps, and new armies in our order of battle. If you can’t do it for real then do it like we did with First Army Group, when we fooled the Germans in ‘44!”
He avoided looking at Von Vietinghoff.
“I want the Russian to feel he is opposed by a steel wall; a line of bayonets from the top to bottom of Europe.”
Now there were smiles, enough to let him know he had made a difference to his people.
“I want you all to be positive, speak positive, do positive, inspiring those you deal with, making them understand that we, here, believe. Don’t say ‘no’, say ‘will do’, and then get it done.
‘Maybe this was long overdue?’
“OK then. Let’s get to work.”
A general hubbub broke out as solutions were discussed and orders formed.
The cigarette was in his mouth and lit within seconds, the comforting nicotine calming his insides, bringing them to a level to match his calm exterior.
The recently promoted GeneralOberst Von Vietinghoff stepped forward.
“My apologies, Heinrich.”
“Not necessary, Herr General.”
There was no side there, nothing to make Eisenhower think that he had offended the man.
“Can you get your government to speed up the process of mobilisation from the released POW’s?”
“We are already doing it as fast as we can, Herr General, but the urgency of the situation will make us find ways.”
“See what you can do, please?”
“I will try, Sir. Now, this is bad timing, but there it is.”
He handed over a message sheet, recently in from Guderian’s command.
“Langenfeld?”
“Yes, Sir. It is about six kilometres south of Dusseldorf.”
‘Oh Lord!’
“Can the Field Marshal hold?”
Guderian had also been bumped up the ranks, receiving his country’s highest military post.
“He thinks so. The Soviets seem to have stopped, and unconfirmed reports have them digging in, Sir.”
“Digging in?”
“Perhaps they have learned the lesson of the Ruhr encirclement, Herr General, but I do wonder if they have learned the lesson of the First Army Group, Sir?”
Bedell-Smith stood waiting his turn, almost willing the two men to finish.
“I wonder that too, Colonel General Vietinghoff, I wonder that too.”
The German saluted impeccably, as always, and departed to throw the wheels of mobilisation into a swifter gear.
Bedell-Smith approached, as Eisenhower lit another cigarette.
“Walter, what do you have for me?”
“McCreery’s idea on hitting back Sir. What do you want to do with it? The resources are there, or close at hand. No effect on the main action, unless you were considering transferring assets from there to here?”
Eisenhower considered it for the briefest of moments.
“I think we are going to need everybody on the mainland, Walter. Cut orders to bring the units that we cut out for the Danish operation over to Europe soonest.”
Whilst he understood, Bedell-Smith found himself feeling disappointed that a genuine opportunity to successfully hit back was lost.
‘Would I do any different? Really?’
The Chief of Staff disappeared to set the ball rolling on transferring British and German units from Norway to mainland Europe.
A message arrived from Field-Marshal Alexander, a reply to Eisenhower’s urgent request for information.
“Ask General Smith to come over please.”
Anne-Marie Foster doubled away and returned with the CoS.
“From Alexander.”
Ike handed over the brief report, watching the furrows on his CoS’ brow deepen.
“Nothing?”
“So it seems. Nothing at all. Should we be worried or grateful, I wonder?”
Bedell-Smith didn’t hesitate.
“I‘ll take it at the moment, Sir. We’ve enough on our plate, but we can’t forget the possibility. On that note, I assume you have not rescinded the stop order on Italian forces?”
Such a question deserved a considered reply, which gave Eisenhower an opportunity to indulge himself in his habit.
“I think not, Walter. We can’t take the risk by weakening him too much. We’ve already cleaned a lot of his top assets out. No, we will leave him be.”
Turning to the female officer, Ike continued seamlessly.
“Anne-Marie, return a message to the Field-Marshal please. Tell him we will not be removing any further assets from his command. Also, request that he contacts this headquarters immediately there is a change in Soviet activity on his front line.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Thank you.”
Now alone, the two senior men pondered the map.
“This is really serious, Walter.”
Eisenhower got no argument on that score.
Discussing some of the finer points of the Soviet threat, both men became aware of a drenched Marine officer heading their way.
“Judging by the look on Rossiter’s face, he has a story to tell, Sir.”’
‘God, please let it be good news.’
Both men uttered the silent plea to higher authority.
“Sam, you’re soaked. Go and get changed, and we can talk about whatever has you so fired up shortly.”
The dripping Marine shook his head, spots of water reaching the table and beyond.
“I don’t think it can wait, Sir.”
Eisenhower poured the cold, wet man a hot coffee, and made him drink some before he continued.
“Sir, it’s the Poles.”