An Army at Dawn

Near the outset, Atkinson suggests that popular discussions around World War II tend to emphasize events like the Allies' 1944 invasion of Normandy Beach and the fierce fighting in the Pacific Theater, often at the expense of the North African campaign of 1942 and 1943. This, Atkinson argues, is a mistake: "No twenty-first-century reader can understand the ultimate triumph of the Allied powers in World War II in 1945 without a grasp of the large drama that unfolded in North Africa in 1942 and 1943" (2). Not only does Atkinson consider North Africa a pivot point in the war, he also considers it "a pivot point in American history, the place where the United States began to act like a great power—militarily, diplomatically, strategically, tactically" (3). Furthermore, Atkinson argues that America's ascent coincides with a British slide into the status of a "junior partner" (3) in its alliance with the United States, a state of affairs that would persist through the 20th century and on into the 21st.

This thesis is supported by the fact that unlike Great Britain, the United States had yet to be tested—militarily, industrially, nor diplomatically—in the era of modern war. While American intervention in World War I was crucial to the Allies' victory, it was Great Britain that played the central role in that conflict. In over four years of battle, Great Britain deployed 6 million troops, 700,000 of whom perished. By comparison, the United States' direct involvement as a combatant in World War I lasted less than two years during which it suffered 110,000 deaths, almost half of which came as a result of a Spanish Influenza outbreak. As Atkinson points out, in September 1939 when Hitler invades Poland, the US Army ranks a mere "seventeenth in the world in size and combat power, just behind Romania" (8). By the end of the North African campaign, the United States is firmly on its way to becoming the largest military and industrial power in the world.

Another recurring theme Atkinson introduces involves the outsized impact of decisions made by lone individuals, many of which are shaped by an individual's ego or instinct. Particularly striking is President Roosevelt's decision to countermand his top generals and military advisors in choosing to invade North Africa rather than launch a full-scale assault on Berlin through France. Atkinson writes:

The president had made the most profound American strategic decision of the European war in direct contravention of his generals and admirals. He had cast his lot with the British rather than with his countrymen. He had repudiated an American military tradition of annihilation, choosing to encircle the enemy and hack at his limbs rather than thrust directly at his heart. And he had based his fiat on instinct and a political calculation that the time was ripe (16).

A large part of his thinking on the matter comes from the calculation that the US must open a front against the Germans as soon as possible if for no other reason than to signal to the Soviet Union that it is not alone in this fight, a reasonable conclusion. However, Atkinson also points out that four days prior to the president's order to invade North Africa invasion, Churchill hears of a galling British defeat in Libya while standing next to Roosevelt's desk: “Roosevelt's response was a thrilling gesture of magnanimity to a friend in need. 'What can we do to help?' the president asked" (16). From this perspective, Roosevelt's decision is less strategic and more the consequence of his emotional instincts. Given this, one can empathize with Eisenhower's hyperbolic yet understandable prediction that Roosevelt's decision to side with Churchill will be remembered as the "blackest day in history" (18). Certainly, had the North African campaign ended in disaster, Roosevelt's choice to act on instinct rather than on the advice of his advisors would likely be viewed by historians as reckless and irresponsible. Regardless of the ultimate outcome, this sequence—and many others like it in the book—reveal the extent to which the course of history is shaped by imperfect decisions by imperfect individuals.

In this respect, Roosevelt pales in comparison to Hitler, whom Atkinson repeatedly singles out for his increasingly reckless and eventually unhinged decisions during the war. After the Pearl Harbor bombing, the United States initially declares war on Japan only. Moreover, Germany's agreement with Japan requires that it declare war on any country that initiates combat with Japan, not the other way around. Yet Hitler, in his characteristic impulsivity and aggressiveness, announces a declaration of war shortly after the Pearl Harbor bombing. Atkinson writes, "It was perhaps the Führer’s gravest miscalculation and, as the British historian Martin Gilbert later wrote, 'the single most decisive act of the Second World War'" (8).

Not all scholars agree that Hitler's declaration has such a singularly disastrous effect on Germany's fortunes during the war. Writing for The National Interest magazine, military historian Robert Farley argues that "Washington and Berlin agreed that war was inevitable; the only question was who would fire the first shots." (Farley, Robert. "What If Hitler Never Declared War on the U.S. During World War II?" The National Interest. 2 Sept. 2016.) However, Gilbert's view is supported by John Kenneth Galbraith, an economist serving under Roosevelt during World War II. In an interview with historian Gitta Sereny, Galbraith said, "It was truly astounding when Hitler declared war on us three days later. I cannot tell you our feelings of triumph. It was a totally irrational thing for him to do, and I think it saved Europe." (Sereny, Gitta. Albert Speer: His Battle with the Truth. New York. 1995.)

Along with Roosevelt and Hitler, Atkinson evaluates the performances and legacies of a number of military commanders involved in the North African campaign, including Eisenhower and Patton. While Eisenhower's reputation as a great general is largely cemented in the American consciousness, his performance throughout much of the North African campaign is a painful learning experienced marred by costly errors in judgment and attitude. Those come later in the book, but here Atkinson examines the extent to which Eisenhower's fellow commanders—particularly those in the British army—dismiss him as a kind and generous soul who lacks a fighting spirit. One British air marshal goes so far as to say, "Ike has the qualities of a little boy which make you love him" (59). For the first months of the campaign at least, there may be some truth to this characterization.

Atkinson also suggests that Eisenhower's congenial and humble demeanor are a calculation. He quotes the war correspondent Don Whitehead who writes that Eisenhower "shaped events with such subtlety that he left others thinking they were the architects of those events. And he was satisfied to leave it that way" (60). If any reader still has doubts about whether Eisenhower is a pushover, look no further than the commander's shrewd bluff-calling of General Giraud in Gibraltar. From Eisenhower's example, Atkinson shows that temperament and personality of individual actors—much like their instincts and egos—play a massive role in the course of human events on a global scale.

Far more controversial among Allied World War II commanders is General Patton. Patton's forceful yet eloquent oratory, combined with wartime propaganda and an Oscar-winning 1970 biographical film, have made Patton into one of the most recognizable and highly-regarded generals in American history. While all of Atkinson's portrayals of the principal figures in North African campaign are nuanced and clear-eyed, he is uniquely ambivalent about Patton: He associates a number of strengths with Patton, including "energy, will, a capacity to see the enemy’s perspective, and bloodlust" (151). However, Atkinson is also unsparing in his evaluation of Patton's defects, including a lack of interest in logistics, a willingness to ignore or countermand orders from superiors, the inability to empathize with his soldiers' fears, and—perhaps most damagingly, as will be made clear later in the book—"an archaic tendency to assess his own generalship on the basis of personal courage under fire" (151). While Patton's bravery is uncontested, he tends to overvalue personal courage as a trait of a great general, and his bloodlust—along with the bloodlust he expects from his fellow commanders—will have unfortunate consequences. Moreover, as the book progresses, it becomes clear that popular depictions of Patton—particularly in the eponymous 1970 film—tend to overstate the general's role in the North African campaign.