The art of decision-making: Eisenhower’s D-Day strategy

In early June, all three factors – the moon, the tides and the weather – were moving favorably toward a window of opportunity.  After much deliberation it was decided that June 5 was to be the day.  Eisenhower wrote, “We must go unless there is a real and serious deterioration in the weather.”

On the morning of June 4, Eisenhower and his staff were confronted with exactly that – a very serious deterioration in the weather. A powerful barometric system was moving toward the British Isles. The good news was that it was set to blow through quickly.  The report called for clear weather on the evening of June 5 and all day on June 6.  Because June 6 was still within the window of opportunity, a decision was made to push the date back one day.  D-Day was now set for June 6.

Later that same day, on the evening of June 4, Eisenhower received an updated weather report. A second system looked likely to hit Normandy on June 7.

This time, moving the date back a few days was not an option. Eisenhower was facing a momentous decision.

If he went forward with the invasion on June 6, he might get the initial troops on shore, but the weather could prevent the reinforcement troops from arriving on June 7.  The invasion force might get pushed back into the Channel before the Allies even had a chance to gain a foothold.

Yet if he delayed the invasion by a single day, the window of opportunity would close, and the next possible date permitted by the moon and tides wasn’t until June 19.  With 150,000 troops poised on the brink of invasion – with the spring tightly coiled – the thought of delaying the launch another two weeks was daunting.  In addition, there was the risk that the Germans would uncover the operation and have time to fortify their defenses.

Eisenhower paused.  In silence, he walked over to a window and stared out at the wind and rain that was pelting the entire Portsmouth area.

The decisions most of us make are nowhere near as consequential as what Eisenhower was facing that stormy June evening in Portsmouth, yet that doesn’t take away from the fact that the biggest strategic decisions we face can have a momentous impact on our lives.  How often, in our busy, overscheduled lives, do we take the time to pause and just think?

By this point in the war, Eisenhower had developed a practice of taking time to silently ponder decisions, often using the solitude to write down his thoughts.  Earlier in the war, on the eve of the invasion of North Africa, Eisenhower wrote a ten-point memo titled, Worries of a Commander, listing all the elements of the impending invasion that gave him cause for concern.  He wrote a similar memo the week before D-Day.

Eisenhower understood there was information that was unknown, and factors that were outside of his control.  Yet, in the face of such uncertainty and complexity, a decision must be made, and the responsibility fell upon him.

As Eisenhower’s chief of staff observed the general silently looking out the window in Southwick House, he was struck by “the loneliness and isolation of a commander at a time when such a momentous decision was to be taken by him, with full knowledge that success or failure rests on his individual decision.”

Finally, after a long pause, Eisenhower broke the silence: “I’m quite positive that the order must be given.”

The following morning, June 5, with the boats steaming toward France, but not so far along that they couldn’t be turned back, Eisenhower had one more opportunity to consider his decision.  The weather report that morning had not improved, but it had not deteriorated either.

He gathered his staff and solicited their opinions one last time, listening carefully to each person.  Then he sat silently on the sofa pondering the decision and going over the factors in his head.

Five long minutes passed. It must have felt like an eternity to Eisenhower’s staff.

Finally, he gave the order: “okay, let’s go.” There was no turning back.