![]() Now the question was who would get what limited supplies there were. Just as final victory seemed imminent, the Allied drive began to sputter to a halt. Even the vaunted American artillery had to restrict itself to firing a paltry few shells a day. Even if 1,200 British trucks had not been crippled by faulty pistons, there were simply not enough trucks, tires, or drivers to supply millions of men with sufficient fuel, ammunition and food to continue an all-out advance. The only means of sustainment was hauling supplies by truck all the way from Normandy to Germany, courtesy of around-the-clock convoys such as the famous African-American drivers of the Red Ball Express. Nor could the Allies utilize French railroads, which had been so pulverized by Allied bombers that neither the Germans-nor the Allies-could use them. Those ports that were captured were so thoroughly demolished by German engineers that months would elapse before ships could unload. Yet Allied hopes of capturing French and Belgian ports intact were dashed by the sacrificial troops Hitler left behind to garrison them. Every bullet, bean and gallon of gas the troops consumed had to be shipped to France. Every mile that the Sherman tanks rolled east toward Berlin, was one mile further from their supply depots in Normandy. Perhaps they could stamp out the evil of Nazism and still survive to return home to their jobs and families.īut the inflexible laws of logistics cared little for hopes or righteous crusades. As American soldiers crossed the German frontier, victory seemed so tantalizingly close that many Allied soldiers dared to hope that the war might- oh, Lord, just might-be over by Christmas.
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