In Defence Of Monty

For 50 years, historians have lined up to attack the architect of D-Day. But, writes James Holland, their criticisms are misguided

- James Holland

On Friday 30 June 1944, American general Omar Bradley visited Bernard Montgomery’s Tactical HQ, near the village of Blay, a few miles west of Bayeux. He found the architect of the Allied assault on Normandy in a particularly spikey mood. “I say,” he remarked to Bradley, looking at Chet Hansen, who had been recently promoted, “now do you have a major for an ADC [aide-de-camp]? Simply a dog’s body, you know, a whipping boy. I would not have an ADC who is more than a captain.”

What on earth compelled him to say such a thing? It was insulting to Bradley (commander of the US First Army), insulting to Hansen, whom Monty had seen many times before, and spectacularly rude and unnecessary.

“Messenger boys, simply messenger boys,” added Montgomery. He then launched into a withering critique of the superbly designed American M1 steel helmet.

It is hard not to cringe recounting this outburst. Montgomery and Bradley needed to work hand in hand, side by side, with unity of purpose, mutual respect, and fellowship. How much harder it was when a small Englishman in corduroys and a sweater was sitting there being so appallingly discourteous.

A MONSTROUS EGO

History has not been kind to Montgomery, particularly not over the last 50 years, as one historian after another has lined up to crucify both his character and his military reputation. To a certain extent, he brought it upon himself through his monstrous ego, the crass way in which he spoke to his peers and superiors, and the very large chip that remained planted on his shoulder.