Commander in Chief: FDR's Battle with Churchill, 1943

by Nigel Hamilton Narrated by Shaun Grindell

Overview

In the next installment of the "splendid memoir Roosevelt didn't get to write" (New York Times), Nigel Hamilton tells the astonishing story of FDR's year-long, defining battle with Churchill, as the war raged in Africa and Italy. Nigel Hamilton's Mantle of Command, long-listed for the National Book Award, drew on years of archival research and interviews to portray FDR in a tight close up, as he determined Allied strategy in the crucial initial phases of World War II. Commander in Chief reveals the astonishing sequel - suppressed by Winston Churchill in his memoirs - of Roosevelt's battles with Churchill to maintain that strategy. Roosevelt knew that the Allies should take Sicily but avoid a wider battle in southern Europe, building experience but saving strength to invade France in early 1944. Churchill seemed to agree at Casablanca - only to undermine his own generals and the Allied command, testing Roosevelt's patience to the limit. Churchill was afraid of the invasion planned for Normandy, and pushed instead for disastrous fighting in Italy, thereby almost losing the war for the Allies. In a dramatic showdown, FDR finally set the ultimate course for victory by making the ultimate threat. Commander in Chief shows FDR in top form at a crucial time in the modern history of the West.

Editorial Reviews

The New York Times Book Review - Thomas E. Ricks

…ably dramatizes Roosevelt's wranglings with Churchill during World War II over Anglo-American policy. His provocative judgment is that the British prime minister was "more millstone than help" in winning the war. Many historians would disagree, but it is stimulating to follow Hamilton as he lays out his argument.

Publishers Weekly

10/10/2016
Biographer Hamilton (The Mantle of Command) combines polished writing, a command of various sources, and broad insight in this account of Franklin Roosevelt’s pivotal WWII year. It was in 1943 that Roosevelt definitively established himself as leader of the Anglo-American alliance. The struggle for dominance between Roosevelt and Winston Churchill is usually presented from the latter’s perspective. In contrast, Hamilton focuses on Roosevelt, presenting him as a war leader “with not only a vision of the future, but how to achieve that future.” The key to his plan was the United Nations. It would be established as a consequence of the destruction of Nazi Germany, which meant a full-scale, cross-channel invasion of Europe. Churchill accepted the concept but made every effort to undermine it. The result was a test of wills. Churchill, seeking to husband British resources and fearing that a Continental invasion would end in disaster, “presented an obsessive argument for the invasion of Italy and the Balkans.” By mid-1943 his recalcitrance placed the coalition “in grave peril.” At Quebec in August the negotiations were “near homicidal,” but the endgame saw Churchill accepting the inevitable. Hamilton shows why Roosevelt “had every reason to feel supreme” with the U.S. becoming “the leading power of the free world.” Agent: Ike Williams, Kneerim & Williams Literary. (June)

From the Publisher

"Ably dramatizes Roosevelt's wranglings with Churchill during World War II ... Provocative ... It is stimulating to follow Hamilton as he lays out his argument."—Thomas E. Ricks, New York Times Book Review

"Superb." — Fareed Zakaria

"A detailed look at Franklin Roosevelt's role in the Allied strategy midway through World War II, with an emphasis on his relations with Winston Churchill. Hamilton (The Mantle of Command: FDR at War, 1941-1942, 2015, etc.) shows Roosevelt's clear vision of how to win the war and how to create a postwar society that would prevent such wars from recurring. Defeating and disarming Germany and Japan was just the first step; creating an international structure to prevent them from rearming was the only way to ensure a peaceful future. To achieve this, Roosevelt had to convince his own allies—even his own generals—that his approach would achieve the desired outcome. Stalin understandably wanted a second front to force Hitler to commit troops elsewhere. Churchill thought the way to attack Germany was through Italy or the Balkans, the "soft underbelly." The U.S. Chiefs of Staff wanted to launch an invasion through France before their troops were battle-hardened or to put America's main effort into defeating Japan. Hamilton is particularly hard (perhaps too hard) on Churchill, who had the advantage of writing a postwar history that justified his actions. Except for the U.S. interception of Japanese Adm. Yamamoto's plane, there is almost nothing on the action in the Pacific theater. But Hamilton nicely documents his account with contemporary sources ranging from Roosevelt's cousin (and confidante) Daisy Suckley and Canadian Prime Minister Mackenzie King to Joseph Goebbels, as well as official documents from the major players. The author offers plenty of colorful period detail, including the kinds of cocktails Roosevelt served Churchill and his family and the furnishings of the lavish private home Roosevelt occupied in Casablanca while attending the Allied summit during the North African campaign. As a result, the book presents a convincing portrait of its main subject, strengthening readers' confidence in the author's conclusions. The book is strongly pro-Roosevelt, but Hamilton gives a solid inside view of the strategic thinking that went into the campaign against Hitler as America laid the groundwork for the D-Day invasion the following year."—Kirkus Reviews (starred)

Library Journal

03/15/2016
In this follow-up to The Mantle of Command: FDR at War, 1941–1942, which focused on Franklin D. Roosevelt's wartime strategies, biographer Hamilton (senior fellow, McCormack Graduate Sch. of Policy and Global Studies, Univ. of Massachusetts Boston) chronicles Roosevelt's actions in 1943, particularly his often contentious encounters with Winston Churchill and America's changing partnership with Britain. British-American relations were critical during this time period; what is less understood is that there were difficult, selfish, and at times shady aspects of this alliance—and at the heart of these dealings were Roosevelt and Churchill. Hamilton marches through 1943 in great detail, exposing the surprising reverses that tried the patience of the normally stalwart Roosevelt, while also throwing light on the political machinations that would lead to Alllied victory in World War II. While the pacing may appear slow to general readers as a result of the painstaking descriptions, history buffs and scholars will find this to be a fascinating read, clearly relating the many surprising story threads that comprise a now legendary relationship between two global powers. VERDICT A solid choice for readers and scholars of World War II, American history, British history, and political science, as well as fans of Roosevelt, Churchill, and biography. [See Prepub Alert, 3/23/15.]—Benjamin Brudner, Curry Coll. Lib., Milton, MA

Kirkus Reviews

★ 2016-03-27
A detailed look at Franklin Roosevelt's role in the Allied strategy midway through World War II, with an emphasis on his relations with Winston Churchill.Hamilton (The Mantle of Command: FDR at War, 1941-1942, 2015, etc.) shows Roosevelt's clear vision of how to win the war and how to create a postwar society that would prevent such wars from recurring. Defeating and disarming Germany and Japan was just the first step; creating an international structure to prevent them from rearming was the only way to ensure a peaceful future. To achieve this, Roosevelt had to convince his own allies—even his own generals—that his approach would achieve the desired outcome. Stalin understandably wanted a second front to force Hitler to commit troops elsewhere. Churchill thought the way to attack Germany was through Italy or the Balkans, the "soft underbelly." The U.S. Chiefs of Staff wanted to launch an invasion through France before their troops were battle-hardened or to put America's main effort into defeating Japan. Hamilton is particularly hard (perhaps too hard) on Churchill, who had the advantage of writing a postwar history that justified his actions. Except for the U.S. interception of Japanese Adm. Yamamoto's plane, there is almost nothing on the action in the Pacific theater. But Hamilton nicely documents his account with contemporary sources ranging from Roosevelt's cousin (and confidante) Daisy Suckley and Canadian Prime Minister Mackenzie King to Joseph Goebbels, as well as official documents from the major players. The author offers plenty of colorful period detail, including the kinds of cocktails Roosevelt served Churchill and his family and the furnishings of the lavish private home Roosevelt occupied in Casablanca while attending the Allied summit during the North African campaign. As a result, the book presents a convincing portrait of its main subject, strengthening readers' confidence in the author's conclusions. The book is strongly pro-Roosevelt, but Hamilton gives a solid inside view of the strategic thinking that went into the campaign against Hitler as America laid the groundwork for the D-Day invasion the following year.

Product Details

BN ID:	2940169669725
Publisher:	Recorded Books, LLC
Publication date:	06/07/2016
Edition description:	Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

PART ONE: A SECRET JOURNEY
 
1
 
A Crazy Idea
 
It was late in the evening of Saturday, January 9, 1943, when a locomotive pulling the Ferdinand Magellan and four further carriages1 departed from a special siding beneath the Bureau of Engraving in Washington, D.C.​ — ​the federal government’s massive printing house for paper money, and thus a sort of Fort Knox of the capital.
    Aboard was the President of the United States, his secretary, his White House chief of staff, his naval aide, his White House counselor, and his doctor, all traveling to Hyde Park for the weekend, as usual. Or so it seemed.
    The Secret Service had insisted the President use for the first time the massive new railway carriage reconstructed for him​ — ​the first such railcar to be made for the nation’s chief executive since Lincoln’s presidency. Boasting fifteen-millimeter armored steel plate on the sides, roof, and underside, the carriage had three-inch-thick bulletproof glass in all its windows. Best of all, it had a special elevator to raise the President, in his wheelchair, onto the platform of the car​ — ​which weighed 142 tons, the heaviest passenger carriage ever used on U.S. rail track.
    The car was “arranged with a sitting room, a dining room for ten or twelve persons, a small but well arranged kitchen, and five state rooms,” Admiral William Leahy, the President’s military chief of staff, recorded in his diary. “Dr. McIntire, Harry Hopkins, Miss Tully, and I occupied the state rooms, and Captain McCrea joined us in the dining room. Other cars accommodated the Secret Service men, the apothecary, the communications personnel, and the President’s valet,” Chief Petty Officer Arthur Prettyman.2
    Their luggage had been taken to the baggage car separately, an hour earlier. But was the President really going to Hyde Park? If so, why the thousand pounds of bottled water? Why clothes for two weeks away? Why the four Filipino members of the crew of the USS Potomac, the presidential yacht, replacing the normal Pullman staff? Why Eleanor, the First Lady, and Louise Macy, the new wife of Harry Hopkins, bidding them goodbye at the underground siding?
    Something was up​ — ​something unique. Even historic.
 
Among the few who did know of the President’s real destination, most had counseled against it. Even the President’s naval aide, Captain John McCrea, opposed the idea when the President tricked McCrea into supplying information on the geography, history, and significant towns of the region of North Africa. Following the successful Torch landings in Algeria and Morocco on November 8, 1942, the President had explained to McCrea​ — ​whose knowledge of the sea exceeded his knowledge of land​ — ​U.S. troops would be fighting in battle, and he’d found himself, as U.S. commander in chief, sadly ignorant of the terrain. “See if you can help me correct that deficiency,” he’d instructed McCrea, “by means of travel folders, etcetera, put out by travel agencies.”
    Travel agencies? As the President had quickly assured McCrea, “in the planning and preparatory stages” of Operation Torch, he hadn’t wanted to draw attention to “that area.” “But now that the troops are there,” he’d added, “that restraint is removed.”
    Innocent of any ulterior motive, McCrea had assembled a raft of informative material. “The President was pleased with it and confided: ‘Just the sort of information I want.’ ”
    Some weeks later, though, “late one afternoon, early in December the President sent for me, sat me down at the corner of his desk and this is about the way it went.
    “The Pres: ‘John, I want to talk to you in great confidence and the matter about which I am talking is to be known to no one except those who need to know.’ Since this was the first time the Pres. had ever spoken to me thus, naturally I was greatly curious,” McCrea later narrated in his somewhat stilted literary style. The President had then confided, “ ‘Since the landing of our troops in No[rth] Africa, I have been in touch with Winston by letter. I feel we should meet soon and resolve some things and that that meeting should take place in Africa. Winston has suggested Khartoum​ — ​I’m not keen on that suggestion. Marrakech and Rabat have been suggested. I’m inclined to rule out those areas, and settle for Casablanca.’ And then to my amazement the President said: ‘What do you think of the whole idea?’ ”
    McCrea had been stunned.
    “As quickly as I could,” McCrea recalled, “I gathered my wits and proceeded about as follows. ‘Right off the top of my head Mr. Pres. I do not think well of the idea. I think there is too much risk involved for you.’ ”
    The President had been unmoved. “Our men in that area are taking risks, why shouldn’t their Commander in Chief share that risk?”
    McCrea was a seasoned sailor​ — ​an aspect he thought might be a more effective counter. “ ‘The Atlantic can be greatly boisterous in the winter months,’ ” he had pointed out, “ ‘and a most uncomfortable passage is a good possibility​ — ​’
    “ ‘Oh​ — ​we wouldn’t go by ship. We would fly,’ said he.”
 
Fly?
    McCrea was shocked. No U.S. president had flown while in office​ — ​ever. “This was a great surprise to me because I knew he did not regard flying with any degree of enthusiasm,” McCrea recounted. Mr. Roosevelt had not flown in a decade, in fact, since traveling to Chicago from New York before the 1932 election. In terms of the President’s safety, waging a world war, it seemed a grave and unnecessary risk​ — ​especially in terms of distance, and flight into an active war zone. But the President was the president.
    McCrea had therefore softened his objection. “I quickly saw that I was being stymied and I tried to withdraw a bit.
    “ ‘Mr. Pres.,’ said I, ‘you have taken me quite by surprise with this proposal. I would like to give it further thought. Right off the top of my head I wouldn’t recommend it.’ ”
 
When, the next morning, Captain McCrea went upstairs to the President’s Oval Study, carrying with him some of the latest reports, secret signals, decoded enemy signals, and top-secret cables from the Map Room​ — ​of which he was the director​ — ​he’d recognized the futility of opposing the idea. It was a colossal risk, he still thought, but he knew the President well enough to know that, if Mr. Roosevelt had raised the matter, it was because his mind was probably already made up, and he was simply looking for the sort of reaction he would be likely to meet from others.
    “He laughed lightly,” McCrea recalled​ — ​informing him that Prime Minister Churchill had already responded positively to the suggestion, in fact was gung ho for such a meeting​ — ​“ ‘Winston is all for it.’ ”
    McCrea had remained concerned, though. Security would present a problem not only during the broad Atlantic crossing, he warned, but in North Africa itself. “I still think the risk is great and if you are determined to go I will do all possible to manage that risk,” he’d assured the President. But the risks were real. “From what I have read in the despatches and the press,” he’d said, for example, “affairs in No[rth] Africa are in a state of much confusion.” Casablanca itself was a notorious gathering place for spies and expatriates. And worse. “I would suppose that No[rth] Africa is full of people who would take you on for $10​ —”
    Assassination?
    “Why I said that I’ll never know,” McCrea later reflected. It was almost rude, “​ — ​but I did and at the moment, of course, I felt it. He laughed heartily.”
 
McCrea was not being timorous. Several weeks later his concern was validated​ — ​Admiral François Darlan, the new French high commissioner under the Allied commander in chief in the Mediterranean, General Eisenhower, was murdered in broad daylight in Algiers.
    By then, however, the trip had been prepared in great detail, and the President would hear no more attempts to dissuade him.
 

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