Like elephants, invasion fleets are not easy to conceal. Following on from his discussion at the War Cabinet, Churchill noted as much in a secret minute on 10 July, exactly as United Press (UP) had openly reported.9 Its distribution included the C-in-C Home Southern Forces, the recently promoted General Sir Alan Brooke, in charge of the Army’s defence of the south coast. In the absence of any evidence of a conventional invasion fleet, it had recently been hypothesized that the Germans could be preparing a secret, unconventional fleet, comprising fast motorboats each capable of carrying a tank. But Churchill was not convinced, hence his minute, in which he stated: “I find it very difficult to visualise the kind of invasion all along the coast by troops carried in small craft, and even in boats,” then adding:
I have not seen any serious evidence of large masses of this class of craft being assembled, and, except in very narrow waters, it would be a most hazardous and even suicidal operation to commit a large army to the accidents of the sea in the teeth of our very numerous armed patrolling forces.
With over 1,000 armed patrol vessels at the Navy’s disposal, he went on to repeat the very obvious point: a surprise crossing should be impossible. In the broader parts of the North Sea the invaders should be an easy prey, as part of their voyage would be made in daylight. Churchill did not believe a German invasion was imminent – and nor did he believe one could be successful.
But there were other good reasons why Churchill need not fear an immediate invasion. From two different directions, British diplomats had received strong and credible approaches from high-level personages, putting out peace feelers on behalf of the Nazis. And in an area replete with rumours of conspiracy, underhand dealings and even treachery, there was absolutely nothing untoward about the way these approaches were handled. Both were reported to, and discussed by, the War Cabinet on this day.10
The first approach was to Sir Samuel Hoare, Britain’s ambassador to Spain – by the Spanish Foreign Minister. That was highly significant as Hoare had been one of Chamberlain’s staunchest political allies and a strong supporter of appeasement. Ousted from the Cabinet by Churchill, he had wanted the post of Viceroy of India but had been prevailed upon to take the Spanish post. In moving him to Madrid, where Pétain had been ambassador and where peace talks between France and Germany had so recently been recently brokered by the Spanish Government, the Germans believed Churchill was quite deliberately keeping the door open to peace talks.
Now, the Spanish Foreign Minister had been discussing with Hoare the possibility of Franco acting as an intermediary between belligerents. According to the German Foreign Ministry which was rapidly appraised of the meeting, Hoare had agreed that “it is possible that it will some time come to that”.11
The second approach was to Sir David Kelly, the British Minister (Ambassador) in Switzerland, resident in Berne. As a result, on 8 July, he had telegraphed to London a lengthy, encrypted despatch. It detailed a meeting with Dr Carl Burckhardt, Acting President of the Red Cross. The two-page telegram had been received the following day, decrypted and then rushed to the first possible War Cabinet meeting.12
Burckhardt had just returned from a visit to Berlin on the “flimsy pretext” of discussing Red Cross relief for refugees in France. He had stayed for three days with Baron Ernst von Weizsäcker, a German Foreign Service official second only in ranking to Foreign Minister Joachim von Ribbentrop. After the war, Weizsäcker claimed to be a member of the Nazi resistance, but at this time, he had arranged long, individual conversations with two Nazi Gauleiters and a general, all three unnamed. The four, including Weizsäcker, affirmed that Hitler was hesitating to attack England because he still clung to the hope of developing a working arrangement with the British Empire. The General said that, while the Germans were confident of their ability to defeat England, they realized that it might involve much greater sacrifices than had the defeat of the French army. They were thus willing to call off an attack, if they could do so without the loss of face.
Burckhardt had passed the substance of these discussions to Kelly, with the clear hint that the Germans would be willing to negotiate a peace settlement. This had not been the first time he and Kelly had met on such a matter, and nor was it the first approach of this nature that had been made to him by a Nazi intermediary. Starting in late June, under the aegis of Monsieur Charles Paravicini, the former Swiss Ambassador to London, he had had several meetings with Prince Max Hohenlohe, a minor but immensely rich European noble who had acted for the Nazis. “The message he professed to bring from Hitler was always the same, though with an increasing note of urgency”, wrote Kelly in his autobiography. The crux was a promise that Britain would be left untouched and the Empire would not be fragmented, with Hitler asking nothing more than to be given a free hand in Europe.13
According to historian Andrew Roberts, the pair had “regular meetings” near Geneva at “a very quiet little fish restaurant on the borders of the lake”.14 They also served who sat and ate, it would appear. However, Kelly himself refers to only one meeting in this restaurant, which was “well away from town”. This was their third, and a family affair “with our wives and his [Hohenlohe’s] daughter”. There was much more formality to other meetings. The second took place in the Spanish Legation in Berne, having been arranged through a man who was later to become Spanish Ambassador in London.
In the first meeting between Kelly and Burckhardt, the diplomat had pointed out that British distrust was “a fatal obstacle to any peace”. This he did again in the first of the July sequence of meetings but, in his telegram to London, he had suggested a new line of action. There was no thought of compromising Burckhardt by publicizing the contact. But, instead of “a flat negative”, Kelly proposed that he should be left “without instructions”. That way, the Germans would be left guessing as to whether His Majesty’s Government were taking their talk seriously or not. “So long as secrecy is maintained, complete silence on our part can in no way weaken our war effort while it may weaken that of the enemy by causing hesitation”, Kelly advised.
The Cabinet, on the advice of Foreign Secretary Lord Halifax, agreed with this line. Kelly was given a free hand. He was later to write that “it was obvious that every day gained for the production of Spitfires and the training of crews was priceless”. Knowing the vital importance of gaining time, he had “made a show of interest”, while keeping London informed. He never received any comment on, or acknowledgement of, his unofficial reports, so there was never any question of discussion and still less of negotiation. On 7 January 1941, however, he was to receive a personal telegram from Churchill, with the cryptic note: “All your work excellent and messages deeply informative”.15
Thus, to a muted and distant drumbeat, the Battle of Britain started: a vital and barely appreciated – and most often misrepresented – part of the battle was British diplomats buying time for their country to prepare for war.
Despite that, a fly on the wall in Supreme Command (OKW) in Berlin would have seen Keitel do something that might have caused Churchill some worry. He instructed “strong artillery support” to be provided to cover the front and flanks of a future crossing and landing.16 Huge guns were to be installed on the coast from Calais (Cap Gris Nez) to Boulogne, the first by 22 July. The programme was complete by 31 August. These guns, however, could be used against shipping, helping to close the Straits to British traffic. This had the approval of Grand Admiral Räder. He had consistently opposed an invasion and fully supported Führer Directive No. 9. Through his pressure, on 17 August 1940 it was to become established as a “total blockade” – a term which had special significance under international law, allowing unrestricted warfare against shipping.
In media terms, the start of the battle was downbeat. Middle England’s newspaper, then the best-selling Daily Express, was concerned with “seavacuation”, the evacuation of children overseas, mainly to the USA or Canada, and a hugely controversial issue. All sections of society were represented in the evacuation sc
heme, but the aristocracy and moneyed classes were particularly in evidence. Lord Mountbatten sent his wife and children. The Countess de Borchgrave, Lady Margaret Barry, Lord Radnor, Viscount Bayham, the Earl of March and Viscount Bethell all sent their children. Many of the Guinness family, City magnates like the four Rothschild families and Sir Charles Hambro dispatched theirs.17
Some were later to attract political fame: Paul Channon, destined to be Mrs Thatcher’s Minister of Transport; Jeremy Thorpe, to lead the Liberal Party; and Shirley Williams, to become a Labour cabinet minister. In all, an estimated 17,000 children were sent out of the country – more than 11,000 privately funded. Predictably, the high proportion of the wealthy taking advantage of the scheme turned it into a cause célèbre. On 1 July, the Express had urged the government to act, fearing that it was “going to have a bad effect on the nation”. But it was already having that effect, and was soon to have a powerful impact on Information Minister Duff Cooper. He was the man responsible for maintaining the morale of the people, and had packed his son, John Julius Norwich, off to New York.
As to the air war, waiting for the Germans were Fighter Command’s three – soon to become four Groups. In the north and Scotland was No. 13. Watching over Yorkshire and Lancashire, the Midlands and part of East Anglia, was No. 12. Covering the south and south-east, including London, was No. 11. In the south-west, No. 10 was in the process of being set up. Much of today’s action was going to be in No. 11 area, under the command of New Zealander, Air Vice-Marshal Sir Keith Park – effectively Dowding’s right-hand man. He operated out of a deep bunker in the grounds of Hillingdon House in Uxbridge, on the western outskirts of London. From there, information was fed to his eight sector airfields which had direct control of the squadrons. Park took day-to-day control of the entire air battle over the south-east of England.
On this day, the action started early and was focused on a convoy of small ships rounding North Foreland in Kent, codenamed “Bread”. Convoy attacks were to be a feature of the early action, a phase which the Germans called Kanalkampf. The ships had been detected by a German Dornier Do 17, a twin-engined bomber converted to reconnaissance duty. The RAF attempted to shoot down the spy with six Spitfires, led by a soon-to-be “ace”, Flight Lieutenant Adolf “Sailor” Malan. But they found themselves outnumbered by more than twenty Messerschmitt 109 single-engined fighters. Despite a spirited fight, the Spitfires were unable to bring down the Dornier. A free fight between Spitfires and Me 109s over Dover then cost the Fighter Command an aircraft, with no loss to the Luftwaffe.18
The action that followed was on such an unusually large scale that it provided the basis for claiming the Battle of Britain had started. Nearly thirty Dornier bombers, escorted by as many Me 110s twin-engined fighters, and nearly twenty Me 109s, flew towards the convoy. One flight of six Hurricanes was guarding it, a further sixteen were on their way and eight Spitfires from RAF Manston piled in. With more than a hundred aircraft aloft, a huge dogfight broke out. One Hurricane shed a wing after colliding with a Dornier. Its pilot, Flying Officer T. P. K. Higgs, baled out. His body was eventually washed up at Noordwijk, Holland. The Dornier was also downed, while another was so badly damaged that it crashed on its return to Cherbourg. For all the activity, though, the only shipping casualty was the Dutch steamer Bill S, sinking six miles off Dungeness.
This, then, was the shooting war – or part of it. But what now evident was how the fighting – or the narrative describing it – was becoming the raw material for the propaganda effort which was going to feed the battle for public morale. As importantly, it was serving the British propaganda counteroffensive aimed at undermining German military and civilian confidence. Duff Cooper was to say that propaganda had an important part to play in defeating Germany, declaring: “It is, in fact, an essential element in the strategy of total warfare”.19 Propaganda was not an optional extra. It was an important weapon in its own right, designed to have both psychological and military effects, either or both potentially war-winning.
With Churchill also determined to present a brave face to the USA, it was inevitable that the air battles of the south-east would be given a high profile, even though they represented a fraction of the overall activity. This day was a case in point. The convoy action was highly publicized, despite there being significant action elsewhere, which lacked high profile (or any, in some cases) reporting. For instance, a train near Newhaven was attacked – the driver was killed and the guard injured. Further north, the SS Waterloo, sailing from Yarmouth, was sunk by remarkably accurate high-level bombing. To the west, a total of sixty-three, ultra-modern, twin-engined Junkers 88 bombers mounted a series of attacks. In the very first air raid in Swansea, one dropped four bombs on the docks. With no air-raid warning, surprised workers were caught in the open. Twelve were killed outright and a further twenty-six injured. Sheds and workshops were extensively damaged.
Nearly 300 miles to the west of Dover, out of sight of the London media, other aircraft attacked Falmouth Harbour. Falmouth was then a very substantial port. Shipping which used to discharge cargo in eastern ports had been re-routed there to avoid the air threat. Additionally, a large number of ships which had escaped occupied countries were berthed there. And the raid, on people who had yet to become accustomed to the ferocity of aerial bombing, was both spectacular and devastating. The British tanker Tascalusa was sunk. Alongside her was the 6,000ton Greek steamer SS Marie Chandris. She was set on fire by the tanker. Another British tanker, the British Chancellor was hit and badly damaged. The Dutch salvage tug Zwarte Zee was damaged by splinters from the blast and later sank. The wharf caught fire and dozens of men had to be rescued by launches and tugs. It was a desperate, frantic endeavour which saved them.20
Not far from Falmouth as the Junkers flies, the Royal Ordnance factory at Pembury was hit and seventeen bombs fell on Martlesham. One aircraft flew over Pembroke Docks where one of the largest Admiralty oil depots in the country was sited. That was an ominous sign, but there was no attack. That was to come. However, summing up the flying activity of the day, the German purpose seemed very clear. This was Directive No. 9 in action, imposing the blockade.
On the British side, for the day’s activity, there was to be a highly publicized “score”. This became a prominent feature of the air battle. On each and every day, the number of British fighters lost was compared with the number of German aircraft downed – of all types. The result was to be seen on the Daily Express front page the next day. Its lurid, triumphal tone was taken from the official communiqués: “37 German raiders down,” it proclaimed. “Three Spitfires attack fifty and win!” The strap read: “Germans make their greatest raid – and the RAF secure their greatest victory”. A “day of glorious deeds” readers were told. Only two British fighters had been lost, but the pilot of one was “safe”.
The damaging attacks on Falmouth and Swansea – and elsewhere – were barely mentioned, even in official reports. “At a South-West Coast port fires were caused,” was the only reference to Falmouth. The selective reporting thus distorted perceptions – as was intended. The Dover action was presented as a challenge to Fighter Command, representing the start of an offensive that had a single, focused aim – the destruction of British air power. But it was framed in terms of a challenge that the RAF could meet and overcome.
Right here, in the reports of the first day of the battle were the beginnings of the myth. The reality was the actual “score”. Based on post-war records, the RAF lost two fighters, and seven other aircraft. Six of those were twin-engined Blenheim bombers, and five of those were from No. 107 Sqn. Therein lay a tragic tale, the like of which was to be repeated many times.
While Luftwaffe bombers were attacking Britain, a total of forty RAF Blenheims were carrying out daylight bombing raids on targets as far apart as Stavenger in Norway, the Rhur, the docks at Bremen, St Omer and the airfield at Glissy, near Armiens. The bombing of Glissy was allocated to six Blenheim Mk IV bombers. On arrival over their target
, their formation had been broken apart by heavy flak, whence they were set upon by nine Me 109s. Only one Blenheim survived.21 That brought the RAF losses on the day to the nine. Against that, the Germans actually lost just ten aircraft. This was most emphatically not the great victory claimed. More to the point, the Luftwaffe was teaching the RAF the lesson that daylight bombing against defended targets, without fighter escort, was suicide. This was a lesson the RAF would be slow to learn, but was in turn to teach the Luftwaffe.
DAY 2 – THURSDAY 11 JULY 1940
On this day, at a Führer conference in Hitler’s Berghof retreat, Admiral Räder discussed moves against England. Wholly against the idea of an invasion, he was convinced that U-boat and air attacks on convoys, and bombing centres of industry, were enough. A landing should be a last resort, reserved to make England ready to sue for peace. He set out the great difficulties and risks involved in a landing. In particular, he doubted whether an area free of mines could be cleared close to the enemy coast, and he pointed out that the route taken by the invasion fleet would have to be protected by its own minefields.22
Even while this meeting was under way, there was another air attack on a British convoy. As had been the case during the previous day’s fighting, this was quite obviously the Germans executing Führer Directive No. 9 once more. But its contribution to the British propaganda war was greater. It was portrayed the following day as another great air battle, the Daily Express proclaiming: “And 22 more – big raids are smashed again”.
Many Not the Few: The Stolen History of the Battle of Britain Page 4