O n their rounds of London last week, visiting U. Army chiefs sought out a very lean, very tall 6 ft. Englishman with a graceful name, royal blood, and one of the key posts in warring Britain. If, as some people thought, the U. For, to Britons a-clamor for Continental action, Lord Louis personifies the second front. Actually, he has a larger and more complex job: he is Chief of Combined Operations, directing not only the Commando troops themselves but the naval and air units which share the labor, glory and death of Commando raids.
Nothing annoys Lord Louis more than this public clatter for immediate, all-out invasion. To him, it smacks of wishful bunk. He knows all about the days and weeks of reconnaissance, the painstaking study of land maps, ocean charts, weather cycles and models of likely invasion points, which it takes to prepare one of his quick stabs at Nazi Europe. His dark, grey-green eyes turn icy. Show himβthey seem to sayβthe transports to move armies, more transports to replace the certain losses and keep the invaders supplied, warships to protect the transports.
But, first and above all, show him the ships. Show him the second fleet which must shuttle the Atlantic, between the U. Perhaps Lord Louis can be shown. Then, behind the massive air assaults which the R. Butcher and Bolt. There was nothing unduly nice about the British Commandos, their job, or their first leader. His men were to be simply raiders. Their job was to shake Nazi morale, collect information, do what damage they could, and give Britons something to cheer about.
Their first officers were largely drawn from the ultra-swank Household Brigade, whose regiments set much store on birth and money. This circumstance made ordinary Britons grumble and suspect that the Commandos were officered by undemocratic pantywaists. The lists of Commando officers did indeed include many a prewar playboy, many an old, famous and sometimes weary name. But the Commandos have a hardening, unsocial leaven.
When a Commando unit raided Boulogne last April, one of the officers was a onetime London police inspector who stepped ashore in carpet slippers. In the Scottish Highlands, officers and men get the same, tough training. So far as is known, no U. To encourage independence, they are made to buy their own food, find their own lodging.
