Purge of the Thirtieth Division

By Henry D. Russell

The Purge of the Thirtieth Division by Major General Henry Dozier Russell is the only known written work by any of the eighteen National Guard division commanders mobilized in1940 and 1941. It chronicles from a National Guard perspective many of the challenges and growing pains experienced by the Army in the critical months leading up to its entry into World War II. Through Russell, the reader gains insight into the vast cultural differences between the Regular Army and the National Guard at the time.

Russell’s memoir offer an invaluable source of a commander’s first-hand account of how his division trained and fared during the 1940 Louisiana Maneuvers, and 1941 Tennessee and Carolina Maneuvers, respectively, in its preparation for overseas deployment. The narrative also contains a compelling account of the relations and tensions between Regulars and National Guardsmen. It was a scathing indictment of the Regular Army high command for what he perceived to be unfair treatment of National Guard officers during World War II. He cited many examples to bolster his claims, and contended that the U.S. Army, under Chief of Staff George C. Marshall, was out to “get” the Thirtieth Division and other National Guard divisions. He further contended that the Army believed that a non-Regular officer should not advance beyond the grade of lieutenant colonel. His memoir, which he privately printed, pulled no punches. His first-hand account was very critical of how a number of senior Regular Army officers handled affairs with his division that led to his relief as the division commander.

Russell completed his memoir in 1947 and subsequently printed 500 copies, which he distributed to senior National Guard officers. He did not sell any of the books, nor were they intended for or made available to the general public. Although there was a demand for additional copies, he did not print any more. The republication of The Purge of the Thirtieth Division is intended to expand the scholarship on the history of World War II and the history of the U.S. Army.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Naval Institute Press
• Release date: Nov 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9780870210747

Book preview

Introduction

The sun was blazing down on Fort Jackson. It was one of those torrid summer days so well known to thousands of young Americans who have received their military training at that famous South Carolina camp. The time was the middle 1920s. Troops from Georgia and South Carolina were in training there. As the senior officer on duty with those troops, I was the camp commander and the director of training. I was a brigadier general and had been for several years. My command was the 59th Infantry Brigade. All of its troops came from the two states of Georgia and South Carolina. The 59th Brigade was a unit of the 30th Division, and that division comprised troops from the two Carolinas, Georgia, and Tennessee.

Brig. Gen. Frank Parker was a distinguished soldier from World War I. He had commanded the 1st Division in that war and was known throughout the Army as Machine Gun Parker.¹ Parker was a member of the General Staff at Washington and was head of the section responsible for the training of the Army. He was a visitor to Fort Jackson on the hot summer day we are discussing. He had come to observe the training of the National Guard troops. He and I were in an upstairs room in the official headquarters building at Fort Jackson. This room was being used by me at the time for a combination sleeping room and private office. The intense heat had caused General Parker to shed his coat, and as I remember now, his military trousers were supported by red galluses.

We were discussing America’s place in the world and the part that she would play in the next war. At that early date, both he and I were in complete agreement that the trend in international affairs pointed directly and emphatically to a resumption of hostilities between the major powers of the world at some time, which we both feared would not be long postponed.

We were depressed mainly because of the parsimonious attitude of our national government toward the Army and Navy. General Parker was enthusiastic in his praise of the spirit and possibilities of the National Guard. Like some other senior officers in the Regular Army at that time, he expressed his belief that the future security of the nation depended on the citizen-soldiers of the National Guard and the Organized Reserve Corps. There was little hope for any appreciable expansion in the Regular Army. It was of the greatest importance, according to General Parker, that the National Guard and Reserve Corps attract the highest type of civilian executives.

General Parker became personal in his remarks, saying that I was the type of man who should continue in the civilian components, and emphasized that no finer, more patriotic service could be rendered the country. According to General Parker, I was a young man and greatly needed in the Army.

This talk of General Parker came at a critical time in my military career. Like most soldiers from World War I, I came home with the firm determination to have nothing more to do with the Army. I put aside my uniforms and, for a few months, devoted all of my time and energy to my civilian profession, the practice of law. The National Guard of Georgia was to be reorganized. A group of soldiers with whom I had served in World War I came to see me. They were attempting to reorganize the old 2nd Georgia Infantry, a National Guard regiment, with its headquarters in my hometown of Macon. These young men insisted that I consent to take the command of that regiment. I became the regimental commander. Some two or three years after the organization of the regiment, I was promoted to the grade of brigadier general and assigned to the 59th Brigade. When I was talking to General Parker, my law business had expanded. I was a member of a partnership. There was little time for military matters. I had resolved to leave the National Guard.

I was greatly impressed with General Parker’s argument. The dismal picture that he drew of the Army dramatized the insecurity of our nation and depicted the duty of men with military experience to contribute their services to our national defense.

I was so friendly with General Parker that I could talk to him freely. I told him of the pressure that had developed in connection with my civilian occupation and then told him of my apprehension that if war came again, civilian soldiers might expect the same treatment they had received from the professional soldiers in World War I. I reminded him of the destruction of some of the National Guard units by the Regulars in World War I and the kicking around of our senior National Guard officers by ambitious and promotion-crazed professionals.

To this General Parker replied that the War Department realized the many mistakes that had been made in World War I and that I could be content in the knowledge that the things that had happened to the civilian soldiers in World War I would not occur in the next war. He pointed out the mistake that had been made by the War Department in taking apart the National Guard units, thereby destroying the morale of a substantial segment of the Army. General Parker’s assurances were so explicit and his position with the War Department was so important that when we parted, I had decided, largely as a matter of duty to my country, to continue in the National Guard.

It is now March 21, 1942. Again, we are at Fort Jackson, and I am in a building only a few hundred yards from the building in which I talked with General Parker. Again, I am in conference with a major general of the Regular Army. His name is Charles F. Thompson. He is the commanding general of the First Army Corps, and his headquarters is in downtown Columbia.² I am the commanding general of the 30th Infantry Division and have been for almost ten years.

It is difficult to imagine a greater contrast than the one between Gen. Frank Parker and Gen. Charles Thompson. Parker was a straight-thinking, straight-talking soldier. Observers were impressed that he was deeply conscious of the great importance of his work in the Army. He was free from prejudice and striving in every way to develop the Army. Thompson, on the contrary, was a slow-thinking, slow-talking, evasive individual. As an executive and commander of men, he was a total failure. He had been sent to the First Army Corps to accomplish, among other things, a reorganization of the 30th Division.

On March 21, 1942, General Thompson was at the headquarters of the 30th Division to deliver an ultimatum to me. He brought along with him a rather long paper in which he had enumerated certain failures of the 30th Division covering a period beginning on September 16, 1940, the date of the division’s mobilization, and extending to within a few days of the time when our conversation was taking place. It was a weak paper, and the lack of any substantial charge in it against the officers and men of the 30th Division was convincing evidence of the fine work the division had done since its mobilization. But Thompson delivered to me the ultimatum that he had received from Washington. I was to reorganize the division, or I must go as the division commander. The pattern for the reorganization was given me by Thompson. It was clear-cut and unmistakable. The key staff officers of the division, including the chief of staff and the divisional G-3 (the operations officer) were to be Regulars. Both of our general officers were to be relieved and replaced by Regulars. All regimental commanders likewise were to be fired, and their places would be filled by Regulars. When this preliminary reorganization had occurred and time to take stock had passed, it might be necessary to replace other National Guardsmen with professional soldiers. Thompson stated that I would not be permitted to select the Regulars who were to replace the National Guardsmen, nor did he think it wise for me to suggest anyone. My job was to clean out the National Guardsmen. When this had been accomplished, the War Department, in its wisdom, would fill the vacancies with its own selections.

In as plain terms as I could use, I told Thompson that I would have no part in this crooked plan. The men whom he wanted destroyed had worked untiringly and under the greatest of difficulties to develop one of the best divisions in the American Army. I knew then and know now that this statement was supported by every material fact in the history of the division from the date of its mobilization.

Thompson expressed his keen regret at my decision, saying he regarded me as one of the outstanding division commanders in the Army. My great weakness was my inability to appreciate the need of help in the division that seemed so apparent to him.

I hope the reader is curious to know what had occurred to change the attitude of the professional soldier toward the civilian soldier. Why was Thompson at the headquarters of the 30th Division demanding that all key and important positions in the division be taken away from National Guardsmen and given to Regulars, with the single exception of the division command? It is the purpose of this story to answer that question. I wish someone else could write it. Unfortunately, there is no one who knows the facts as I do. In the pages that follow, I shall attempt the history of the purge of the 30th Division by describing the things that came to pass.

It is extremely doubtful that General Parker expressed to me at Fort Jackson the real sentiment of the professional soldier toward the civilian soldier. It is my belief that a small group of intelligent, forward-looking leaders of the Army had observed civilian soldiers in World War I and, realizing the tremendously important fact that our military establishment could be operated by such civilians, had set about to develop a truly civilian army. These leaders made little impress upon the majority of the professional soldiers. Shortly after World War I, we sent many young Regular Army officers to our military schools to train for high command and staff work in the next war. When mobilization came in 1940, these men, seeking position and advancement in the Army, determined to take over command of all combat units from regiments up, and their efforts were not to be frustrated by any sense of decency or fair play in the procedure. Into Washington had come a new group of officers—George C. Marshall, Lesley J. McNair, and those about them—with a contempt for civilian soldiers and, for that matter, with a contempt for all things civilian.

I expect to tell the story in all its crudeness and without reservations. It is a story of suggestions for changes in the officer personnel of the division. These suggestions were followed by mild demands for such changes. These mild demands grew into veiled threats, which in turn became open threats. When all of the arguments and threats failed, the division was subjected to the final resort of the professional soldier: crooked inspections and false reports.

In World War II, for a time, we had in our regulations a plan for reclassification of officers. This provided for an investigation by a board erroneously referred to as a hearing. This reclassification procedure was employed in the 30th Division, resulting in what we lawyers know as fixed trials.

The story in the following pages gives the details. It is a sorry, sordid story, and its crooked trail leads to the top. I take no pleasure in writing it, but it is my deep hope that it will serve to lessen the trials of the civilian soldier and make it easier for him to serve his country and maintain his self-respect in the wars of the future. The story of the 30th Division is the story of the other National Guard divisions. The things that were done to us were done to the senior officers in other Guard units. In a spirit of desperation, disgust, and anger, we fought back while others surrendered. In this futile and unequal contest, we developed the enemy positions and discovered the hostile high command. We saw the handiwork of Marshall and McNair. We dramatized the real objective of the National Guard purge. That objective was universal military training and a larger professional army. An effective National Guard, with a great war record, was the most insurmountable handicap to the accomplishment of the objective—hence, the National Guard was to be destroyed.

Senior officers in the Reserve Corps felt much of the treatment accorded National Guardsmen. They were kicked aside from their war assignments to make places for ambitious professionals. This story should be interesting to them.

[1]

Straws in the Wind

There were events that cast their shadows before them. Long before the division moved to Fort Jackson in September 1940, I had convincing evidence that all was not well with the civilian soldier. A great flood of lip service was rendered by the professional soldier to the National Guard and the Organized Reserve Corps. We were told that the National Guard was the first line, the backbone of the Army, the organization around which the future Army, in case of an emergency, would be built. Despite this, signs here and there indicated that when trouble came the professionals would take over.

Let’s look at a few of these signs. An officer from the Regular Army came to Macon as a Guard instructor in the early 1920s. He was enthusiastic about his work, saying that service with the Guard would give an opportunity to know, work with, and help develop the major component of the Army—the troops that would form the first line of defense should war come. He and I had several most satisfactory conferences in which we planned together and convinced ourselves that we were doing worthwhile things for the national defense.

This officer went to Atlanta for a visit at the Fourth Corps Area headquarters. Roughly, the corps area corresponded in its organizational setup and mission to the armies throughout the country today. At Fourth Corps Area headquarters, National Guard activities for eight southeastern states were controlled. When the colonel came back from Atlanta, he talked to me about his visit and the things that were said to him. His spirits were very low. His morale as a National Guard instructor was badly shaken, if not destroyed. He had been assigned to duty with the National Guard, and those who had given him his place had emphasized the importance of his work and the opportunities that it offered. He had accepted these statements at their face value. He was, therefore, greatly surprised and deeply disappointed when those with whom he talked at Fourth Corps Area headquarters expressed an entirely different view about the National Guard. They stated that the National Guard could not be developed as an efficient component of the Army. The Regular Army would go along with the Guard for political reasons during the period of peace, aid the organization of Guard units, and await the time when the Guard would be called into federal service for its complete reorganization. When that time came, according to these officers, the old policy of Regular Army officers for all key positions in National Guard divisions would be enforced.

Further, the officer was dispirited because of the insignificant place that the officer in charge of National Guard affairs occupied at Fourth Corps Area headquarters. He described the situation to me, and as a result of that talk, soon thereafter I made a visit to Fourth Corps Area headquarters to get direct evidence on existing conditions.

I found an old colonel in charge of National Guard affairs. His roots were in Virginia or West Virginia. He was of the type commonly referred to in the Army as a fuddy-duddy and was awaiting the day when he would attain the age for retirement. I attempted to talk to him about the National Guard. He knew little and called in a sergeant who, as I remember now, was his only assistant. From this sergeant I learned nothing of importance. The colonel’s principal interest was heredity, and for as many hours as anyone would listen, he would advance dry and uninteresting arguments to sustain his theory that unless one was properly born, he would never accomplish anything in life.

It was obvious that the Fourth Corps at that time cared little for the National Guard. Most of the troops of the Southeast were then in the Guard, but a small part of Fourth Corps activities concerned themselves with the Guard. If the Guard was important, that fact had not been made known to the Regulars at Corps Area headquarters.

The Talk at Fort Sam Houston

Let’s return to our friend Frank Parker. When he reached the age for retirement, he was in command of the Third Army, with headquarters at Fort Sam Houston. Adolf Hitler and Benito Mussolini were now active, and we were in the early stages of World War II. A command post exercise was held by General Parker at Fort Sam Houston for all the higher headquarters of the Third Army. The Fourth Corps from Atlanta participated in those exercises, and the headquarters of the 30th Division was present. Assembled were several hundred officers of the three components, the Regular Army, the National Guard, and the Organized Reserve Corps.

Toward the end of the exercises, Major General Parker approached me and stated that when the final conference was held for the purpose of criticizing the work that had been done, he wanted me to talk about the relations between the three components. I told him that, of course, I would be delighted to do it. General Parker stated that he wanted a serious talk and that I should use as much time as necessary to develop the subject.

A little later General Parker came back to me and said, Russell, I am very much afraid that you are not impressed with the talk which you are to make. You seem to be regarding the matter lightly and such an attitude on your part is not in keeping with what I want. Continuing, he expressed an apprehension that I would make a few meaningless remarks about the fine relations existing between the components and recommend nothing of value to improve such relations or be the basis of more intelligent procedure for the development of an army in the future. He stated that the relations between the components were not what they should be: Much must be done. Looking straight at me, he said, You know what I am talking about and I hope you will make the kind of speech I want.

The general was accurate in his statements, which implied friction between the professional soldier and civilian. The snobbishness of the professional soldier toward the civilian in the command post exercises, which were then ending, was impressive of the need for a change.

Acting on the instructions from General Parker, I outlined a talk to the assembled officers, and in my remarks I left little—perhaps too little—to the imagination. I described the relations between the components and recommended changes that I thought would make for a unified army and a proper spirit so necessary for efficient operation. The speech was received with a great deal of enthusiasm by all the civilian officers present, but many of the senior Regular Army officers who were seated toward the front of the auditorium seemed displeased with the things that I was saying and regarded me with hostility from the corners of their eyes, after I had developed the theme. I hope the reader will remember that one of those present at this meeting was the cavalryman Ben Lear, who later became a lieutenant general.

After the meeting I was told by a member of my staff that he had overheard a conversation between two or three Regular Army colonels. They had been discussing the talk that I had made and had been uniform in their condemnation of what I had said. They regarded me as entirely too critical of the attitude of the professional soldier toward the civilian and stated that my remarks about instructors who were on duty with the National Guard were disparaging and gave an incorrect picture of such instructors. At this late time, it is possible for me to recall the name of but one of the colonels who had condemned me. This man was in charge of National Guard affairs at Fourth Corps Area headquarters and thus had much to do with the National Guard of the 30th Division. He was Col. Alfred L. P. Sands, known in the service as Penny Sands. Much more about him later.

The remarks that I made about National Guard instructors at General Parker’s conference have escaped me completely. If I was accurate in those statements—and I probably was—I must have made a plea for the War Department to send to the National Guard the highest type officer available, since the National Guard then had in its organization the only troops being trained for immediate service when war came. It is unfortunately true that because of the low esteem in which the National Guard has been held by the smart boys of the Army, we have been sent officers much below the average as our instructors. There are notable and outstanding exceptions, but I am giving the general rule. In the talk I made a plea for a friendlier, more cooperative spirit among the components.

The 30th Division staff came back from the command post exercise on a train with many Regular Army officers. We remained to ourselves and were almost completely ostracized. We discussed the situation and were in agreement that General Parker’s statement that much must be done to improve the relations between the professional soldier and the civilian was charitable. The officers of the 30th Division staff were then impressed that dark days were ahead for National Guard senior officers if mobilization came.

The Louisiana Maneuvers

Whatever doubt might have existed was soon dispelled. The command post exercises at Fort Sam Houston were held in preparation for maneuvers. In the command post exercises, simulated warfare occurs without troops on the ground. Higher commanders and staffs participate just as though troops were present. Activity is maintained by the delivery of previously prepared and coordinated written messages that require command decisions and staff functioning.

Elements of the Third Army were sent into Louisiana a year or two following the Fort Sam Houston command post exercises. Our troops were there. This was one of the first large assemblies of troops in America in preparation for World War II. The 30th Division was mobilized at Camp Shelby in Mississippi. We were to go to the maneuvers in Louisiana after they had developed, reaching the maneuver area as reinforcements for one of the contending armies. All of our instructors were with us, including Penny Sands. Col. Reginald D. H. Kelley was the senior from South Carolina. Lt. Col. Frank E. Brokaw was the senior from Georgia. These three, Sands, Kelley and Brokaw, were the leaders of the Regular Army elements with the 30th Division. There were some others: Maj. Hugh G. Elliott, Col. Lloyd S. Partridge, and an unusual officer by the name of Col. William Hones.

In preparation for the maneuvers in Louisiana, we divided the 30th Division into two groups and executed a two-sided maneuver. It was my definite desire to have officers of the division familiar with operations on the ground before they were thrown into competition with other divisions of the Third Army. Soon after I had announced the plan for the training, it developed that the youngest officers, of whom Elliott, Partridge, and Hones were typical, were not at all in accord with my views and did not hesitate to express such disagreement. The instructors with the artillery were anxious to carry out what they regarded as their War Department–assigned missions, to wit, the instruction of the troops, and had plans that were in conflict with the one adopted by me. This hostility on the part of these men, fresh from the schools, was unknown to me until sometime after the occurrence.

Soon after we had assembled at Camp Shelby, Penny Sands called the Regular Army officers together in an executive session and spoke to them. In this talk he stated that war was now approaching, that the mobilization of the National Guard was certain. Four divisions had been selected for early concentration, and the 30th was one of those selected. Sands told the assembled officers that the mobilization of the 30th Division would present to them an opportunity to secure commands within the division. He said that they should be very active in the maneuvers that were coming in Louisiana since such interest would enable them to secure desirable assignments to high places in the 30th Division.

I knew nothing of this conference until much later. Had I known about it, immediate action would have been taken.

The Fight among the Regulars

The 30th Division did well in the Louisiana Maneuvers. On the basis of my contact with other divisions in Louisiana, I regarded the 30th as more advanced in its training than any of them. This was particularly true of the command and staff of the division. We operated with less friction and committed fewer mistakes. All the units there gave evidence of needed training, and the higher commanders knew that much must be done before we would be ready to fight.

Miller G. White, one of the division staff, was on duty with the War Department in Washington. He was replaced on the staff by Brokaw, who acted as G-3. I realized that Brokaw could not become a permanent replacement on the division staff. He had an exaggerated idea of his ability as a divisional staff officer and a contempt for the civilian soldiers with whom he worked, notwithstanding that most, if not all, of these civilian officers were more capable than he was.

I was standing under a small pine tree when the maneuvers ended. I was approached by Brokaw. He stated that I might as well know now as later that they were going to get my chief of staff. I asked him to define they. To this he replied that he, together with Sands, Kelley, and probably one or more other Regular Army officers, had been designated by the War Department to prepare reports on certain of the 30th Division officers. In these reports the manner of performance of duty by the National Guard officers was described and they were rated with respect to their efficiency as officers. I gathered that adverse efficiency reports had been made on a few of our officers by this committee. The chief of staff of the division had been condemned by the board.

When Brokaw selected the chief of staff and pointed him out as one of the senior officers of the division who must be replaced and, in the same talk, called my attention to his qualifications to be the chief of staff, I realized that the professionals had begun to move in on the division. As calmly as I could, I told Brokaw that I would look forward with a great deal of interest to reading the reports but called his attention to the fact that he, as a candidate for the position of chief of staff, was in a rather bad situation, since he had joined in the preparation of a report that condemned the man whose job he wanted. This made no impression on Brokaw. He regarded such procedure as perfectly legitimate, and given his training, ability, and experience, I can understand his attitude easily.

Brokaw Visits Macon

We reached Macon, Georgia, from the maneuvers on one of the last days of a week. On Saturday night of that week, Brokaw called me at my home, stating he was then registered at the Lanier Hotel in Macon. He said he was anxious to talk with me the following morning, and I told him I would go to division headquarters, in a downtown office building, for the talk.

When I reached headquarters, Brokaw immediately launched into a discussion of the 30th Division and the plans that the instructors on duty with the divisions had made for its reorganization. It was perfectly evident from the outset that his reason for visiting me grew out of a quarrel between the instructors over assignment of places in the division. It appeared that Brokaw, Sands, and Kelley were in accord that the chief of staff of the division was to be replaced. They were certain about this. They all regarded the chief of staff’s job as being highly desirable, and all three wanted it.

Brokaw then launched into a criticism of both Sands and Kelley, though he was inclined to denounce Sands more mildly then Kelley. Soon the reason for this softened criticism of Sands was apparent. It was the belief of the Regular Army instructors that Brig. Gen. Robert J. Travis, then the 30th Division artillery brigade commander, would soon be out of the service because of his physical condition. They thought that the reports on the physical examination of General Travis at the mobilization center would show him to be unsuited for field service, and this would create a vacancy for a division artillery officer. Sands was an artilleryman and planned to succeed Travis. Should this come to pass, the way would be left open for Brokaw to become the chief of staff without competition from Sands. Kelley was to be left out unless sufficient reasons could be found for the elimination of Brig. Gen. Trelawney E. Marchant, who was commanding my old brigade, the 59th. Brokaw stated that Marchant had not impressed the instructor personnel very well, and he thought it would be fine if I could eliminate Marchant and give Kelley that job, in which event the three plotters, Brokaw, Kelley, and Sands, would all be firmly fixed in the division—very happy. He continued by saying that one or two of the artillery instructors were anxious to have places with the 30th Division. An unsatisfactory report had been made on one of the artillery regimental commanders, and it was believed that another one of the artillery colonels would go the way planned for General Travis. In other words, the doctors at the concentration center would find this colonel unfit for field service, and his relief would make a place for one of their ambitious instructors.

At that time a