When a leader’s pen was mightier than an excuse

One museum artifact that caught my eye on a visit several years ago stands out because of what it says, and its backstory. 

The simple sheet of paper bears Eisenhower’s hastily scribbled note from the night of June 5, 1944. He put down a few anguished lines on paper just hours before he sent 160,000 Allied troops off on what we know as D-Day. 

The massive invasion of Western Europe 82 years ago this month changed the world, turning the tide of World War II in favor of Allied forces. Eisenhower’s role as the supreme Allied commander arguably is one of the finest examples of leadership in military history.

That statement he wrote and tucked into his pocket was his acceptance of responsibility if the invasion failed. It didn’t, of course. But the note endures as evidence of the general’s approach to accountable leadership.

His June 5 “In Case of Failure” note said only this:

“Our landings in the Cherbourg-Havre area have failed to gain a satisfactory foothold and I have withdrawn the troops. My decision to attack at this time and place was based upon the best information available. The troops, the air and the navy did all that bravery and devotion to duty could do. If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt it is mine alone.”

No blaming the weather, or subordinates, or advisers from other Allied nations. No deflecting fault to Republicans, Democrats, or those not in full agreement with the invasion plans. 

The fault is mine alone.

That approach differs from a leadership style we see today on matters of war, life and death, or even simple matters of judgment.

For example, consider President Donald Trump’s response last week to a political setback far less consequential than the events Eisenhower faced in June 1944. The president’s comments left me wondering how the kid from Abilene might have handled the situation.

Trump did not hesitate when he endorsed U.S. Rep. Randy Feenstra for Iowa governor in a Truth Social post on May 29, just before the primary election. He announced he was giving the congressman his “complete and total endorsement.” Despite that, or maybe because of it, Feenstra narrowly lost four days later to businessman and farm owner Zach Lahn. 

Trump was asked at a White House event last week whether he regretted endorsing Feenstra. The president responded: “Had I been given the proper information, which I don’t think I was, I probably would have endorsed the other person — or not endorsed at all — but I would have endorsed the other person.”

The lack of ownership Trump demonstrated is in stark contrast with Eisenhower’s example on that June night as a great battle loomed.

Eisenhower’s note reflects a philosophy of accountability. As the Allied commander, the decision to invade was his, and he viewed any failure as his, too. Responsibility stopped with him.

Trump’s response reflects a different emphasis. His explanation focuses on the information he received and the people who provided it, rather than on the decision itself. The implication is that the Feenstra endorsement was not the mistake. The failure of others was the real problem.

I suppose I am foolish to believe American leaders accept that authority and accountability are inseparable — that the greater the authority, the greater the obligation to own the consequences.

So, what perhaps is most refreshing compared to today’s political climate is how Eisenhower’s note endures as an example of leadership, because it captures a simple principle: Credit flows downward, blame flows upward.

Historians often describe Eisenhower as a leader who delegated authority extensively while insisting that ultimate accountability remained with him. Although Harry Truman famously displayed “The Buck Stops Here” desk sign in the White House, Eisenhower embraced a similar philosophy: Advisers recommend, but the leader owns the decision.

As we face the continuing bombardment of messages from today’s state and federal leaders hurling accusations, laying blame and assigning fault, it is nice to recall a time when even before things might go wrong those in charge were prepared to accept responsibility for their decisions and for the errors and omissions of those under their command.

And as we navigate a political era shaped by social media platforms with names like Truth Social and X, it is worth remembering that a few words from Ike on a piece of paper — or Harry’s sign on his desk — still communicate responsibility and accountability more clearly than many modern messages. ♦

Randy Evans can be reached at DMRevans2810@gmail.com.