Robert Payne, in the introduction to his biography of General Gerorge C. Marshall, The Marshall Story, wrote regarding U.S. generals, “Too often the military autobiographers suffer from the first of the seven deadly sins, which is pride; they ascribe their successes to their superb intelligence and their occasional failures to unkindly fates. They speak of the soldiers under their command as one might speak of robots, and they very rarely speak of the soldiers . . . Humility,” he said, “is not characteristic of genea1s…”
Such a statement generalizes from an apparent lack of knowledge about the real character of American World War II general officers. Many examples can be cited to refute Payne’s allegation. 
Marshall
As World War II progressed, country decorated Army Chief of Staff George C. Marshall. This embarrasses him. He first tried to handle the situation by not wearing any ribbons; but then military missions from the awarding countries began to question whether this American General valued their awards, and General Marshall finally felt forced to wear every medal he received. But he had them reproduced in miniature size. They were so compressed that forty of the miniature ribbons fitted into the space that sixteen decorations would normally occupy. 
As the war progressed General Marshall proposed a single Chief of Staff to cover both the Army and the Navy. Secretary Stimson and Harry Hopkins believed that Marshall was the only man on the horizon suitable for that position; but, Stimson said, “Marshall rules himself out because he thinks the Navy would not accept the situation unless there was a Navy man appointed.”21 General Marshall considered it vital that the “Joint Chief” position be created. The mission was the important thing, not personal rank or glory. Stimson noted that “The President recognized Marshall’s generosity on this point and spoke warmly of it.” Stimson’s own reaction was that it was “an act of great magnanimity on Marshall’s part.” At Marshall’s suggestion, Admiral William D. Leahy was appointed. 
Marshall’s air of confidence was accompanied by an attitude of humility, not arrogance. He never considered himself a great leader. When men asked his opinion, listened, and accepted his advice, he considered that they listened because they believed he was better informed on the subject than they were. 
During his first important meeting as Chief of Staff, in 1939, with President Roosevelt, a number of other top political and military leaders were present. The President discussed with them his plan to build 10,000 airplanes, to which Marshall was opposed--because of his desire for a balanced air-ground build-up. The majority of the political and military leaders, Marshall said, “agreed with him [Roosevelt] entirely [and] had very little to say and were very soothing...He finally came around to me...I remember he called me ‘George’. I don’t think he ever did it again...1 wasn’t very enthusiastic over such a misrepresentation of our intimacy. So he turned to me at the end of this general outlining...and said, ‘Don’t you think so, George?’ 1 replied, ‘I am sorry, Mr. President, but I don’t agree with them at all.’ I remember that ended the conference. The President gave me a startled look, and when I went out, they all [the politicians and other military leaders] bade me good-bye and said that my tour in Washington was over. But ... that didn’t antagonize [Roosevelt] at all. Maybe he thought I would tell him the truth…”
Marshall had an innate dignity. He was considerate, thoughtful, even kind in his association with others, but no one would venture upon a familiarity with him. Some interpreted his reserve as egotism, others thought him a “stuffed shirt”. Reserve could work to an officer’s disadvantage if he were considered cold. A leader who is cold and indifferent does not inspire men; but an officer who, though reserved, is clearly interested in his men and their welfare does. It was obvious to all who counted that Marshall was interested in American soldiers and their welfare. 
George C. Marshall was complete within himself. Doing his job well was its own reward; he did not need the compliments of others to evaluate his performance. He was eminently fit for the responsibilities and loneliness of command, intellectually and psychologically. 
（From "Nineteen Stars" by Edgar Puryear.）