A general history tells dozens of heroic deeds and praises them. A unit history tells hundreds and considers them all part of the job. The outstanding record of the 4th U.S. Armored Division in the European Theatre of Operations doubles as an immersion in the gritty reality of small unit tactics. Lieutenants don’t get to fall on the field of honor as they lead the final charge; they take a sniper bullet in the head first. The grizzled NCO who saves the day may be awarded that medal, but he’s likely to die in the next encounter before it can be presented to him.
The foreword mention of the rare Presidential Distinguished Unit Citation, only awarded twice on divisional level during World War II, sets the tone for a tale of excellence through teamwork as the key to success. This tone is carried through in a brief look at the training phase in the homeland under the philosophy of the division’s ‘father’, Major General John Wood.
The level of improvisation at times surpassed the conditions within the Reichswehr.Where Guderian’s disciples used wooden silhouettes or dummies of tanks, the future tank crews of the Fourth sometimes moved as one body, holding each other by the shoulder like the blind of Bruegel the Elder as they trotted the Mojave desert. Nevertheless, combined arms cooperation and swift exploitation of any weaknesses in the enemy line reached a high level. Of long-term importance was the excellent relationships fostered between the ‘core’ units of the division and the ‘attached’ units, who felt part of the team rather than a disposable convenience. Small things could make the difference, such as not “buttoning up” (closing the hatch) while pushing forward.
Once across the Atlantic, there was no romantic Phony War period. The English buildings were marked by the Blitz. The tankers saw the battle-scarred air fleet return from the first D-Day run while training on Salisbury Plains. On July 19th, Omaha Beach was still littered with debris of the landing. Bradley’s policy of blooding new units saw the armoured infantry battalions baptized by German shells in the old-fashioned role of doughboys in slit trenches. There was some panic among the green troops, some wild rumors about broken lines, but in general they stood their ground well. It became clear that the role of the Fourth Armoured, at least prior to the Breakout in Normandy, would not be that of dashing mechanized cavalry.
Fox still credits their overall performance with one of many useful end-of-chapter recapitulations: Due to their courage and aptitude under fire, by the end of the final day of july 1944, the city of Avranches was secured. The road into Brittany and the interior of France was open, courtesy of the Fourth Armored Division.. Once Middleton of VIII corps put it in the saddle, it showed the future of U.S. armoured doctrine by frustrating the German defenders as much as Wood’s direction had frustrated the umpires during the large-scale exercises in the Tennessee Maneuver Area: Rennes was a major objective that was captured at moderate cost. The division had demonstrated how the right combination of speed, maneuver and firepower could outwit the enemy and save lives. What could’ve been a costly frontal assault instead became a grand encirclement that cut off and demoralized the enemy.
Fox feels comfortable reciting the reminiscences of veterans (he interviewed or corresponded with 20 surviving officers to supplement the available memories in ink). They range from the sobering to the incredible. On one end, an officer spots a lone disabled Tiger in a field, its powerful main gun still sighted on a line of five Shermans on a distant ridge, each shot clean through the big white American star which graced their front armor. It was proof enough to give the divisional tank park a paint job. On the other, the division artillery liaison, Major Charles Carpenter, kept in touch with the tank battalions in a customized Piper Cub with 6 bazookas rigged under the wings, to do a XIX Tactical Air Command act of his own which earned him the nickname “Bazooka Charlie”.
Sometimes he gets carried away. Systematically decimating 350 German Landser packed onto a train by disabling the locomotive, then raking the cars one by one with machine guns will give even a seasoned GI pause for thought, but not bloody likely about the “just and noble cause”(p.75)! It is possible to use a certain amount of hyperbole in a unit history, but on page 70 Fox blunders with an offhand remark about the failure to close the gap between Argentan and Falaise that makes no sense whatsoever, it jumps out from the page: “In some respects, by making this decision, Eisenhower and his top generals returned the favor that Hitler had granted the British at Dunkirk in 1940 . That myth has been busted since the late 80’s, harking back to original post-war statements by Hitler’s generals. Similarly, the phrase “In retrospect it is really quite remarkable that Hitler was able to foresee where the front would stabilize and where his opportunity would reside” graces page 131. Such foresight on Hitler’s part in mid-September is a factoid that most solid accounts of the Ardennes offensive will contest.
“P” Wood was a good friend of George Patton, which did not prevent him from being relieved from command shortly before the Bulge, a subject which Fox tackles with indignation but is unable to clarify. Roughly the final third of the book is dedicated to the Fourth’s famous drive on Bastogne, after which things come to an abrupt end. A proper unit history would’ve seen it through to the occupation of Germany and its 1949 deactivation.
P.S. A critical source (available online) here, with links to the AirLand battle doctrine of the mid-80s, is “ the Fourth Armoured Division in the Encirclement of Nancy ” by Dr. Christopher R. Gabel, Combat Studies Institute, U.S. Army Command and General Staff College, Fort Leavensworth, Kansas, april 1986.