“Tuesday 6 June 1944 was a day like no other. Although every military operation has a D-day, in the popular mind there is only one D-Day. As Robert Capa, the acclaimed war photographer who found himself on Omaha Beach that morning, observed, ‘from North Africa to the Rhine there were too many D-days, and for every one of them we had to get up in the middle of the night.’ It was massively over-insured against every conceivable setback or adversity, making the twenty-four hours of the ‘Longest Day’ one of the best-prepared in military history. Sand and Steel charts the lifting of the German yoke from a small corner of Normandy during one day, but it was an enterprise that involved millions of people. Hence, this is also the story of a generation…”
- Peter Caddick-Adams, Sand and Steel: The D-Day Invasion and the Liberation of France
This might not be the best book you read about the 1944 invasion of France, but it will probably be the lengthiest. Though it covers only the first twenty-four hours of history’s most famous D-Day, Sand and Steel is a huge endeavor consisting of nearly nine-hundred pages of text. When you add in the endnotes and bibliography, it is almost more than the binding can bear.
With that much space, that much freedom from the keen scissors of an editor stressing concision and brevity, Peter Caddick-Adams’s project had the opportunity to be the last word on this well-covered subject. He could have taken the combined knowledge of hundreds of prior books, thousands of documents, and his own numerous interviews, and turned it into a comprehensive epic of one of the more consequential days in the world’s greatest war.
Instead – and to my deep disappointment – this is sort of a mess. Imagine gathering up the finest ingredients for a luxurious meal. Then imagine pouring all those ingredients into a bowl, mixing them together, and putting them into the microwave. That’s a bit like what happens here.
***
The D-Day landings need little to no introduction. On June 6, 1944, thousands of American, British, Canadian, and French soldiers floated down from the air or landed on the beaches of Nazi-occupied France, beginning a drive that would end on the Elbe River, where they met Soviet forces steamrolling in from the east. Cynics and Soviet partisans will tell you that this second front – to me, actually a fifth front, after the east, North Africa, Italy, and the air – is overrated, and pales in comparison to Russian efforts against the bulk of German forces.
Leaving that argument aside, however, one cannot deny the essential qualities of the operation. It was an incredible logistical and tactical feat, one that the Soviet Union never could have pulled off in its wildest dreams. It also had a true nobility to it, a rare occasion in which a descending army actually – as opposed to rhetorically – came to liberate a land and a people. It’s a darn good tale, one that bears repeating.
***
Structurally, Sand and Steel appears sound. There is an obvious overlying method to the presentation. Focus wise, Caddick-Adams divides things into two roughly equal parts. The first section is all leadup, providing global context, and covering the planning, troop buildup, and training. The second part is about the big day itself, beginning with the airborne assaults, and then proceeding methodically from west to east, covering each of the landing sites: Utah, Omaha, Gold, Juno, and Sword.
For me, a solid framework is a key condition for ultimate success. There are many ways to tell a story, but at the end of the day, a writer has to provide something that life often denies us: coherence. Even with good bones, Sand and Steel lacks this virtue.
***
At this point I’ve made Sand and Steel seem like a steaming pile of rubbish, which it certainly is not. There’s a lot of good in it, which makes it all the more frustrating that it never comes close to cohering. So, let’s talk about some positives.
To begin, Caddick-Adams shines a bright light on the preparatory phase of an incredibly complicated undertaking. The Yankee preinvasion invasion of England is finely portrayed, demonstrating the tension between well-paid, well-provisioned American soldiers; poorly-paid, less-well-provisioned British soldiers; and the average British citizen who preferred the former to the latter. Making use of an unlimited page count, Caddick-Adams does a nice job reflecting on the experience of black American soldiers toiling in a racist and segregated military, and of the many women in uniform performing vital roles.
Caddick-Adams also marvelously demonstrates how the Allies readied themselves for contingences, and backstopped themselves against failure. Great Britain and the United States engaged in an incredibly elaborate deception campaign to confuse the Germans, to the extent that the west’s best fighting general was put in charge of a fake army. They constructed artificial harbors, so that they did not have to sail into the teeth of heavily defended French ports. They dropped exploding dummies from planes in effective acts of misdirection. They advanced on multiple axes, so one setback would not doom the whole.
Of course, the old saying is that no plan survives first contact with the enemy. As Caddick-Adams notes, this was never truer than on D-Day, when so many things went wrong. Airborne drops were scattered. Elaborately designed swimming tanks sank in the Atlantic. Men were dropped off at the wrong places. This is where the training comes in. Caddick-Adams reminds us several times that more men died getting ready for D-Day than on the day itself. This paid off at crucial moments, when individual officers and men had the flexibility to improvise on the fly.
Throughout, Caddick-Adams seeks to challenge conventional wisdom. Sometimes this is done quite clumsily, as in his repetitive use of Saving Private Ryan as a straw man. That said, he makes some good points. For instance, I enjoyed Caddick-Adams’s discussion on the tension between those who wanted a quick-and-dirty surprise attack, and the veterans of the Pacific War who wanted a massive pre-assault bombardment. The resulting mishmash combined the worst elements of both: a quick bombardment that alerted the enemy and did no real damage.
Caddick-Adams also asserts – somewhat undercutting his own celebratory statements – that the Atlantic Wall was a joke, and that the men defending the beaches represented the dregs of the German military. Oftentimes, they weren’t even Germans.
***
Now to the bad, which I will not belabor.
In short, researching history involves one skill set, writing it another. Caddick-Adams’s prose style is awkward and inelegant, full of disruptive obtrusions and digressions. Individual pages ping-pong from one topic to the next. Subjects are picked up, then dropped in mid-thought. Non-sequiturs reign; paragraphs do not flow; transitions are painful; tangents are embarked upon, then returned to unnecessarily. Much of the info packed into the body might better have served as footnotes.
Sand and Steel often resembles an oral history, with long excerpts taken from first-person recollections. Instead of carefully snipping this testimony and weaving it into a tapestry, Caddick-Adams just quotes them at length. Thus, we are confronted with off-topic statements, abundant cliches, the repetition of hearsay and gossip, and irrelevant asides. Curiously, Caddick-Adams makes the strange decision to censor any expletives. This misbegotten attempt to sanitize war is infantilizing. These faults – I hasten to add – do not rest with the participants, but with the author. Soldiers soldier; writers are supposed to write.
The upshot is that despite a solid edifice, the battle narrative is hopelessly confusing and dramatically inert.
***
This may go without saying, but I generally seek out books I think I’m going to like. I don’t get paid to read; I don’t receive books for free; and I work very hard on Only Fans – I mean, my normal, non-erotic job – and want to invest those funds wisely in my paper assets. This is one of those books I expected and wanted to love.
Despite my dissatisfaction, it should also go without saying that this might work better for others. As I’ve noted before, I’m not a huge fan of oral-history-type nonfiction. Instead, I prefer an author to make judicious use of perceptive first-person accounts, but also to take the raw material provided by others and distill that into a polished story. But this is not a universal view.
For me, this book was a mild failure, though D-Day books – like pizza – are never totally bad. This is not a function of a lack of passion or ambition, but of literary execution.