It was the need to stress such things that drove him to visit every command he could before they jumped off, and to talk to every officer and soldier in a position of leadership. In his own mind he wanted to ensure that he had done his best to convey his intent and that it was understood. Standing there that night in front of the commanders of Scott Dixon's brigade, Big Al went over what he intended to do and how they would do it. The formal review of the brigade's plan, given by Dixon himself, was Dixon's own effort to ensure that every battalion and company commander in his brigade understood what he intended. When he was finished, he turned the floor over to Big Al.
Slowly Big Al rose from his chair and walked over to the map showing most of Germany and the anticipated route of the 4th Armored Division. He made a show of studying it before slowly turning to face the captains, majors, and colonels seated before him. With his feet spread shoulder width apart, his left hand on his hip, and using his right index finger to point at the map, Big Al began. "It is 709 kilometers from here to Bremerhaven. That, for those of you still used to thinking like civilians, translates to 432 miles. In the States, it would almost be the same as driving from New York City to Cleveland, Ohio. During that trip the biggest threats you face are the Pennsylvania State Police. On a good day you could make that drive in eight or nine hours. But," giving great emphasis to the word "but," "this isn't the States. This is Germany." Turning around to face the map, Big Al placed both hands on his hips. "Germany is one of the most densely populated areas in the world. It has a long and proud history. It is one of the only European countries the Romans never conquered. It has been racked by great disasters, both natural and man-made. During the days of the Black Death, plague wiped out anywhere from a third to half the population. Whole villages simply died off. During the Thirty Years' War, a full one third of the population of Germany was again wiped out. And in World War II, what the Germans still refer to as 'The Last War,' they lost seven and a half million people, half of them civilians. They have not forgotten that, none of it."
Turning around quickly, Big Al stared at the assembled leaders. "To the Germans, a people who have a deep and long sense of history, we are simply another marauding army ripping up their fields, threatening their homes, and endangering their lives. They don't give a damn whether or not we are right or why we are doing what we're doing. We're just another group of soldiers passing through." Toning his speech down slightly, Big Al folded his arms across his chest. "Now, we have some advantages. First, because the American Army has lived with the Germans for more than fifty years, they know us and understand us better than just about everyone else that has gone before. The area of operations we'll be rolling through is used to seeing American GIs and dealing with us. So for many of those people this will be nothing new. Many of the procedures we will be using, from the recording of maneuver damage to the purchase of fuel from the civilian sector, are the exact same ones we used during peacetime training maneuvers. We're doing that because we have a reputation for paying in full all of our debts and doing as little damage as possible. I am hoping that reputation will allay any fears the civilians have and keep them from interfering with our operations."
Using his index finger, Big Al raised his voice as he jabbed his finger at his officers to emphasize his point. "That reputation, however, can be pissed away in a heartbeat if you and your people go through Germany like a plague of locusts or riding high and wild like Attila the Hun. Right now the media and the German people are neutral. I expect each and every one of you to do your best to keep it that way. We'll have more than enough to deal with when the German Army and Air Force get their acts together without having angry civilians chasing us with shotguns and pitchforks."
Allowing that point to sink in, Big Al wandered about the front of the room, folding his arms across his chest, then, when he was ready, stopping. Placing his hands on his hips again, he turned only partway to face his audience. "It will come to a fight. Somewhere at some time during our drive, it will have to come to a fight. The German Bundeswehr, despite the internal problems that you are hearing about right now, will eventually get itself straight. When it does, it's going to come at us with a vengeance. The Germans are fighters, proud and fierce warriors who have a long history of fighting against great odds, under the most adverse conditions, and winning. Now I fully expect that some German commanders and soldiers will choose not to engage us. The more the better. But we cannot count on that. What we can expect is that the bulk of their commanders will heed their call to duty and obey their orders. And once battle is joined, once we're locked in mortal combat on German soil, those who were undecided will no doubt join in their fight. Just remember that the words to the German national anthem, 'Deutschland Über Alles,' written in the mid-1800s, are a call for Germans, all Germans, to forget their petty loyalties and doubts and rally to defend the idea of a free and united Germany. Like I said before, we're nothing special, just the foreign army that happens to be passing through their nation today."
Big Al again paused to let his officers think about what he had said. While he did so, he looked at the map. When he spoke, it was almost as if he were thinking to himself. But he wasn't. "This brigade has a tough job. It's going to be the rear guard, not only for your own division but for the entire corps." Still staring at the map, Big Al stretched his arms out and made a big circle. "We're going to move through Germany like a herd of elephants. In the center, all of our supply trains and service support units will travel just like the cows and young do in an elephant herd. Outside, protecting the herd from all comers, the combat brigades will move, just like the elephant bulls, ready and vigilant." Pivoting, Big Al jammed his index finger into the air again. "You people are the bulls. Your job is not to collect trophies or conquer territory. You are there to protect those cows in the center. Because you all know, just like an elephant bull knows instinctively, that if the cows of the herd die the whole herd will cease to exist."
In an effort to lighten the somber mood of the assembled officers, Big Al was about to mention that he got the elephant idea from watching a National Geographic show on television with his grandchildren. The sudden thought of those grandchildren, whom he might never see again, was brutally painful. While still looking at the audience, Big Al wondered how many of those upturned faces, all younger than his and dutifully attentive, concealed similar thoughts. He, of course, knew that most of them did. So he decided to shy away from the mention of families and children. This, he knew, was already becoming hard enough without bringing such thoughts to mind.
Pointing his finger back at the map, Big Al picked up where he had left off. "It is 432 miles to Bremerhaven. That means that each and every M-1A1 tank in this command that makes it there will consume over 3,000 gallons of fuel. Fuel, ladies and gentlemen, not tactical genius or firepower, is going to make or break us. Remember that first, last, and always. We're going to suck dry every gas station between here and Bremerhaven, and still we're not going to have enough fuel. If you, the combat commanders of the Tenth Corps, fail to save the cows, we'll all die. Period."