Marshall: Unflappable and undefeated
On a New Year’s Eve in Uniontown many, many years ago, a wailing infant entered the world. Afterward, that baby, now grown to manhood, helped to save the world from certain tyranny.
George C. Marshall occupied the highest echelons of government. As Army chief of staff, he led the U.S. military into World War II. Earning a fifth star during the war, General of the Army Marshall not only “organized” Allied victory, but was the wellspring of Army leadership and strategy during four brutal years of fighting and dying.
We – the nation, the Free World – owe him a lot.
“We have plans and trained soldiers, and are organized,” the general bravely and conspicuously told a Uniontown audience in the prewar period. “There is no confusion, no hurly-burly excitement and hysteria.”
Marshall’s ceremonial homecoming coincided with the start of the war in Europe. He told a banquet crowd at the White Swan Hotel, this democratic nation, with its “possibilities for peace and happiness,” will rise to the occasion. Above all, he said, “We … must not be misled” or fall prey to “emotionalism.”
Events in Europe – the German invasion of Poland and the subsequent declaration by the United Kingdom in defense of Polish sovereignty – were “tragic” occurrences, Marshall said.
They presaged, as we now know, tens of millions of deaths.
While the United States waffled, Marshall undertook to meet the occasion – confirming in the process one of the essentials of effective generalship: the demonstration of will – of resolve – in the face of extreme peril.
Speaking at the Army War College, historian Barbara Tuchman, the author of “The Guns of August” and other books which delve into the conduct of generals in tough circumstances, named “resolution” as the foremost quality of successful military leadership.
“That is what allows a man to prevail – over circumstances, over subordinates, over allies, and eventually, over the enemy,” she said.
She cited the example of George Washington at “the nadir of misery,” Valley Forge, and later at the Battle of Monmouth, where, on horseback, he plunged into the disorganized American lines and with a few choice words and unrivaled will, righted things that had been going radically wrong.
She might have cited Marshall, the paragon of the desk general, as he ruthlessly slashed away at the mossbacks atop the Army, in order to promote vigorous, young officers, men like Dwight Eisenhower, to positions of leadership.
True, it wasn’t the same as Washington risking life and limb as muzzle balls whisked the air, but it took another kind of will – the moral kind. What if he had been wrong about Ike and the others? There, perhaps, goes the war, and with it, western civilization.
Marshall was nothing if not determined. The story has been told many times of his rebuttal of President Roosevelt’s formula for pre-war national defense: air power.
After a round of mostly civilian yeses, FDR came to Marshall, the last man in the room. “I’m sorry, Mr. President, but I don’t agree with that at all,” the general said to the presidential assertions as to the primacy of the fighter plane.
Marshall dodged the half-expected demotion. Instead, his singular reply marked his assent. It wasn’t long before FDR began to place complete confidence in Marshall’s judgment.
As for judgment, Marshall not only had it, he had the type described by C.P. Snow, English novelist and thinker. Specifically, “the ability to think of many matters at once, in their interdependence, their related importance, and their consequences.”
FDR maybe prized this most in Marshall. Tempted to lose Marshall to the big command of the European invasion, FDR concluded that the chief of staff could not be spared. It was best to leave Marshall in a position to command the whole complex scene.
The baby born on New Year’s Eve 1880 at the family home on West Main Street in Uniontown became the idol of the U.S. Army. A bust of the general stands watch at the entrance to the Pentagon. Gen. Colin Powell, among others, always kept Marshall’s portrait on the wall by his desk.
Fellow officers jumped at the bark of his commands because they had faith in Marshall’s judgment and knowledge. At the same time, he encouraged independent decision-making. He picked people whose judgments he expected to be as keen as his own.
Richard Robbins lives in Uniontown. He can be reached at dick.l.robbins@gmail.com.