Five Septembers
This week World War II grinds into its fifth year.* A vast, vital difference sets this September apart from the four preceding Septembers. For the United Nations it is the difference between defeat and victory. Men no longer ask: Where will the Axis strike? Now the question is: Where will the Allies strike?
> In September 1939, as the Panzers clawed across Poland, Adolf Hitler grandiloquized: "I now do not want to be anything but the first soldier of the German Reich. I, therefore, again put on the uniform which once had been most sacred and dearest to me. I will take it off only after victory." Over an unprepared, divided foe, victory that very month seemed near.
> By September 1940 the Panzers had blitzed Denmark and Norway, the Low Countries and France. Adolf Hitler had capered in delight before the camera. Now he waited to caper again as the Luftwaffe battled across the Channel. In her darkest, grandest hour, Britain stood alone.
> In September 1941 Britain still stood.
But the Wehrmacht had swept the Balkans, snatched Crete, gouged Russia. Now it hammered at Moscow's gates.
> By September 1942 the Red Army had proved the Wehrmacht not invincible.
But never had the peril seemed so black for the United Nations. The Nazis were near the Volga and the Nile. Another grand plunge and they would have the Caucasus, the Middle East and an avenue to junction with Japan.
> In September 1943 Adolf Hitler, presumably, still wears his old uniform. His armies have lost Africa and the Mediterranean, are retreating in Russia. His cities lie in ruins, his satellites are ratting. The people he conquered are whetting vengeance's knife. The democracies he despised are readying mighty blows.
The Anglo-American invasion of Europe seems imminent. Allied leaders have promised again & again a many-pronged assault. The invading columns could spring from British and Mediterranean bases anywhere along the 4,000-mile front between the Arctic Circle and the Aegean Sea. But only action will reveal whether the many prongs will move simultaneously or in progression.
Britain's capable Minister of Food Lord Woolton said that Britons could not expect increased rations. Reason: "We are planning an attack" and food must be "guarded for the great tasks that lie ahead." Such a statement implied that the mightiest, most hazardous invasion of all, the invasion from Britain, was approaching.
One-Two, Heel & Toe. The pre-invasion pattern was sharpest in the Mediterranean. Allied planes, sweeping up by day & night from North African and Sicilian bases, ripped Italy's communications below the Naples-Foggia line.
Most daring was a raid against the Foggia air, rail and road junction on Italy's Adriatic flank. Reconnaissance had shown that the Luftwaffe had dispersed a fleet of Junkers 88s across Foggia's main drome and ten satellite fields. A carefully coached armada of more than 100 Lightnings raced across the Mediterranean and the Italian boot, roared across the dusty plain around Foggia, at hedgehopping altitude, caught the Germans by surprise. Their strafing fire raked at least 100 Ju-88s.
Back at their base, the Lightnings were met by Lieut. General Carl Spaatz, Northwest African Air Force chief. Cried he: "Where's MacNicol? I want to give him the D.F.C." On the disheveled tunic of the raid commander, Lieut. Colonel George M. MacNicol, the general pinned a Distinguished Flying Cross.
By week's end southern Italy's traffic arteries appeared paralyzed. Luftwaffe opposition was dwindling. Round One in the pre-invasion battle belonged to the Allies.
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