Five Days in London, May 1940

by John Lukacs

  Meanwhile the House should prepare itself for hard and heavy tidings. I have only to add that nothing which may happen in this battle can in any way relieve us of our duty to defend the world cause to which we have vowed ourselves; nor should it destroy our confidence in our power to make our way, as on former occasions in our history, through disaster and through grief to the ultimate defeat of our enemies.

  Churchill’s speech was relatively brief. There were only two comments, one by a Labour member, H. B. Lees-Smith: “As he is to make a further statement next week this is not the time for any discussion at all. I will, therefore, confine myself to a single observation. Whatever he may have to tell us in the next few days or weeks or months, we have not yet touched the fringe of the resolution of this country.” The other comment was made by Sir Percy Harris, a Liberal: “All I want to say is that the dignified statement of the Prime Minister reflects not only the feeling of the whole House but the feeling of the whole nation.”24 Fine words, and not without substance; yet, concerning the phrase “the feeling of the whole House,” it is perhaps of interest that no Conservative members chose to speak. In any event, Churchill was heartened by what the Labour member had said: “We have not yet touched the fringe of the resolution of this country.”

  But was this “not the time for any discussion” at all? Not in the House, surely; but there was the War Cabinet and Halifax. Churchill had asked the War Cabinet to meet in one of the rooms of the House of Commons, for convenience’s sake, he said. This was undoubtedly so, but he also had something else in mind. Thither he now went, where the War Cabinet session opened at four o’clock. Then and there the battle between Halifax and Churchill broke out anew.

  The Foreign Secretary said that Sir Robert Vansittart25 had now discovered what the Italian Embassy had in mind, namely, that we should give a clear indication that we should like to see mediation by Italy.

  The Prime Minister said that it was clear that the French purpose was to see Signor Mussolini acting as intermediary between ourselves and Herr Hitler. He was determined not to get into this position.

  The Foreign Secretary said that the proposal which had been discussed with M. Reynaud on Sunday had been as follows: that we should say that we were prepared to fight to the death for our independence, but that, provided this could be secured, there were certain concessions that we were prepared to make to Italy.

  The Prime Minister thought that the French were trying to get us on to the slippery slope. The position would be entirely different when Germany had made an unsuccessful attempt to invade this country.…

  The Foreign Secretary said that we must not ignore the fact that we might get better terms before France went out of the war and our aircraft factories were bombed, than we might get in three months’ time.

  The various possibilities now under development of countering night-bombing were referred to.

  The Prime Minister then read out a draft which expressed his views. To him the essential point was that M. Reynaud wanted to get us to the Conference table with Herr Hitler. If we once got to the table, we should then find that the terms offered us touched our independence and integrity. When, at this point, we got up to leave the Conference-table, we should find that all the forces of resolution which were now at our disposal would have vanished. M. Reynaud had said that if he could save the independence of France, he would continue the fight. It was clear, therefore, that M. Reynaud’s aim was to end the war.26

  The Foreign Secretary said that M. Reynaud also wanted the Allies to address an appeal to the President of the United States.

  The Prime Minister thought that a paragraph might be added to the draft outlined by the Lord President [Chamberlain] to the effect that we were ready in principle to associate ourselves with such an appeal.

  The Minister without Portfolio [Greenwood] thought that M. Reynaud was too much inclined to hawk around appeals. This was another attempt to run out.

  The Prime Minister said that he came back to the point that the French wanted to get out of the war, but did not want to break their Treaty obligations to us. Signor Mussolini, if he came in as mediator, would take his whack out of us. It was impossible to imagine that Herr Hitler would be so foolish as to let us continue our re-armament. In effect, his terms would put us completely at his mercy. We should get no worse terms if we went on fighting, even if we were beaten, than were open to us now. If, however, we continued the war and Germany attacked us, no doubt we would suffer some damage, but they would also suffer severe losses. Their oil supplies might be reduced. A time might come when we felt that we had to put an end to the struggle, but the terms would not then be more mortal than those offered to us now.

  The Foreign Secretary said that he still did not see what there was in the French suggestion of trying out the possibilities of mediation which the Prime Minister felt so wrong.

  The Lord President [Chamberlain] said that, on a dispassionate survey, it was right to remember that the alternative to fighting on nevertheless involved a considerable gamble. The War Cabinet agreed that this was a true statement of the case.

  The Prime Minister said that the nations which went down fighting rose again, but those which surrendered tamely were finished.

  The Minister without Portfolio [Greenwood] said that any course which we took was attended by great danger. The line of resistance was certainly a gamble, but he did not feel that this was a time for ultimate capitulation.

  The Foreign Secretary said that nothing in his suggestion could even remotely be described as ultimate capitulation.

  The Prime Minister thought that the chances of decent terms being offered to us at the present were a thousand to one against.27

  It was now five o’clock. It was at this moment that Churchill resorted to what some have called his coup. He asked the War Cabinet to adjourn momentarily and to resume their meeting at seven. He had arranged to address the members of the entire cabinet (the Outer Cabinet as contrasted with the five men of the War Cabinet). This took place in his room in the House of Commons. It took about an hour. Churchill’s resolution impressed and swayed all of them. We have seen his own account and Hugh Dalton’s account of this in the first pages of this book. The decisive matter in Churchill’s peroration came at the end. Churchill admitted (if that is the proper verb) that he had been thinking about whether it “was his duty to consider negotiations” with Hitler. But, he had concluded, “it was idle to think that, if we tried to make peace now, we should get better terms from Germany than if we went on and fought it out. The Germans would demand our fleet — that would be called ‘disarmament’—our naval bases, and much else. We should become a slave state, though a British government which would be Hitler’s puppet would be set up — “under Mosley or some such person.’ And where should we be at the end of all that?” Herbert Morrison, a Labour minister, “asked about evacuation of the Government, and hoped that it would not be hurried. The PM said Certainly not, he was all against evacuation unless things really became utterly impossible in London, ‘but mere bombing will not make us go.’”28

  There are two considerations that argue against the interpretation crediting Churchill for having prepared a coup by such a gathering of his longtime supporters. It was proper for him to speak to the entire cabinet at the time, having not met with most of them for more than a week. More important is the fact that the Outer Cabinet consisted of twenty-nine or thirty ministers of whom at least a dozen (if not more) were Conservatives, inherited from the previous Chamberlain government. New members of the cabinet, and Churchillians, amounted to no more than another dozen. Yet, as Dalton recalled, “No one expressed even the faintest flicker of dissent” We do not know who exactly or how many went up to Churchill at the end of the meeting, patting him on the back. It did not matter. Churchill was more than encouraged; he now knew that he would have his way.

  Less than an hour after the other ministers dispersed, Churchill returned to the War Cabinet. This last meeting opened at seven. It
was a brief session. Churchill told them what had just happened with the other ministers: “They had not expressed alarm at the position in France, but had expressed the greatest satisfaction when he had told them that there was no chance of our giving up the struggle. He did not remember having ever before heard a gathering of persons occupying high places in political life express themselves so emphatically.”

  Halifax now thought that he could not demur. He only referred to Reynaud’s proposed appeal to Roosevelt.

  Churchill “thought that an appeal to the United States at the present time would be altogether premature. If we made a bold stand against Germany, that would command their admiration and respect; but a grovelling appeal, if made now, would have the worst possible effect. He therefore did not favour making any approach on the subject at the present time.”29

  That was the end of it. He had worn down Halifax. Churchill left for Admiralty House, where he dined at half past eight and then drafted a late-night telegram to Reynaud. He told him that the War Cabinet had agreed: there was no reason to offer concessions to Mussolini now.30

  That was the end of it. As Andrew Roberts properly wrote: “Churchill’s instincts proved correct. Halifax had attempted to bring logic and reason to a problem long since devoid of either.… Halifax was right that there was nothing particularly patriotic in adopting a ‘death or glory’ attitude if the odds were on the former, any more than there was anything treacherous about attempting honourably to shorten a war Britain was clearly losing.”31 That is the best one can — and should — say about Halifax. But Churchill’s best was — and proved to be — better than that.32

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Survival

  A long-range view of the war. – The meaning of Dunkirk. –

  “It is time to face up to facts.” – Halifax redux. – An antiquated

  Britain. – Churchill and Europe. - Fortissimo.

  Historians are tempted to overstate the importance of their topics, or their themes. This is why I am now compelled to argue my case. Had Hitler won the Second World War we would be living in a different world. That is not arguable. What is arguable is the crucial importance of 24-28 May 1940, those five days in London. Was that the hinge of fate? What if the Germans had won the air Battle of Britain? What if Hitler had captured Moscow? What if he had won at Stalingrad? What if D Day had failed? Any of these events could have changed the course of the war. Yet my argument is that Hitler was never closer to his ultimate victory than during those five days in May 1940. This requires explanation — briefly.

  The air Battle of Britain was very important, but it would not have decided the entire outcome of the Second World War. A defeat of the Royal Air Force would have made a German landing in England easier, but a successful invasion of England would still have been very difficult to manage. Hitler knew that: at first he was reluctant to begin the German air offensive, and only a few days after its start (on 14 August) he already knew that it would not be decisive. And what people did not know in 1940 was what we have learned since: that no great country can be conquered by air warfare alone. Also, Roosevelt’s decision to range the United States more and more on the side of Britain was already made before the Battle of Britain.

  Had Hitler captured Moscow or forced Stalin to seek some kind of a Russian capitulation, there is absolutely no evidence that the British (and the Americans) would not have fought on. The same applies to the event of a German conquest of Stalingrad.

  Had D Day in June 1944 failed, perhaps Hitler and Stalin would have tried a deal; perhaps a second attempt to invade Western Europe would not have been possible in time; but there is not the slightest reason to believe that the Anglo-American alliance would have abandoned its determination to fight the Third Reich.

  All this may seem overly optimistic and reliant on hindsight. There is, however, a very essential condition, or caveat, germane for the theme of this book. Had Hitler won at Moscow or at Stalingrad or in Normandy, he would not have won his war. But he may have been unbeatable. These two things are not the same. His aim was to dominate Europe and most of European Russia — and to make or force Britain and Russia and the United States to accept such a Germany victory of the Second World War. But by November 1941 at the latest, Hitler knew that this was no longer possible. Thereafter his strategy became “Friderician,” reminiscent of that of Frederick the Great: to win sufficient victories to break up the unnatural coalition of his enemies—Anglo-Americans and Russians, capitalists and Communists, Churchill and Roosevelt and Stalin — and thus to compel one or the other to deal with him. This did not happen. Yet it could have happened. Had he triumphed in Russia, had he triumphed on the Normandy beaches, Churchill’s and Roosevelt’s position would have been very difficult, to say the least. That was how Hitler saw the war, and not unreasonably so. The defeat of the Soviet Union,1 the defeat of the Anglo-Americans on the beaches, would not only have meant that the latter would have had to rethink their entire strategy; it would have led to possibly considerable opposition among the British and perhaps especially the American people to leaders who had declared that nothing but total victory over Germany, that is, nothing but its unconditional surrender, would do. In sum, Hitler could have forced his enemies to something like a draw.

  All of this is speculation, but not speculation without substance. And I am compelled to sketch it in here in order to argue that the man in Hitler’s way was Churchill. In May 1940 neither the United States nor Soviet Russia was at war with Germany. At that time there were reasons for a British government to at least ascertain whether a temporary compromise with Hitler was at all possible. Churchill thought and said no, that even the first cautious moves would mean stepping on a slippery slope; he was right, and not only morally speaking. Had Britain stopped fighting in May 1940, Hitler would have won his war. Thus he was never closer to victory than during those five days in May 1940. By the grace of God he did not know that. He thought that sooner or later (preferably sooner) Churchill would be forced to go. In this Hitler failed, because Churchill prevailed. Here I must repeat what I state on the first page of this book: Churchill and Britain could not have won the Second World War; in the end America and Russia did. But in May 1940 Churchill was the one who did not lose it.2

  That accounts for much, perhaps everything — including the saving grace (if that is what it was) of Dunkirk, and even of the Battle of Britain. We, the last surviving contemporaries of those May days, did not know that either. Many people do not know it now, which is the reason for my writing this book. I shall return to Dunkirk in a moment. Recall, however, that as late as 28 May few troops had been able to escape from Dunkirk; and, what is more important, that Churchill had declared that Britain would fight on, whatever might happen at Dunkirk. What then did happen there fortified his position; but it was his resolution that mattered.

  On Wednesday, 29 May, Churchill’s household routine returned to normal.3 His new secretary, John Colville, wrote in his diary, “Winston’s ceaseless industry is impressive.” Among other things Churchill was encouraged by a strong letter from Cardinal Hinsley, the Roman Catholic primate of England: “The Cardinal is vigorous and tough, and I cannot see that it would do any harm, if he made it absolutely clear to his brethren over the water that, whatever happened, we are going to the end.”4 He was encouraged, too, by the developing news from Dunkirk, to which now, for the last time, we must turn.

  The turning point at Dunkirk was that day, Wednesday, the twenty-ninth of May. That morning Gort still thought that further evacuation might become impossible, yet as the day went on the prospects brightened. That day and night more than 47,000 men were lifted off from the Dunkirk mole and from the beaches, nearly three times as many as the day before. (On 30 May there would be 53,800, on 31 May 68,000, on 1 June 64,400; thereafter the numbers would diminish to 26,000 for each of the remaining three days of evacuation. The number of French troops carried off by British vessels did not significantly increase until 31 May, and then on Churchill
’s direct orders. By the end of day 4 June, the grand totals were 338,226, including more than 125,000 French.) The bombing raids of the Luftwaffe were severe on the twenty-ninth; moreover, the Germans were moving close enough to Dunkirk for their field artillery to begin shelling the town, not only from the south but also from the west. There were more than a few ugly scenes of low morale, including violent misunderstandings between the British and the French, but generally enough discipline and organization prevailed, which was not easy amid conditions of frequent retreating and the unprecedented and often chaotic situation on the beaches. Especially along the perimeter the French fought as well as the British.5 At the end of the day Churchill, overoptimistically, sent a message to Spears to give to Reynaud: nearly 50,000 were evacuated and “hope another 30,000 tonight. Front may be beaten in at any time or place, beaches and shipping rendered unusable by air attacks, and also artillery fire from the South-West. No one can tell how long present good flow will last, or how much we can save for future. We wish French troops to share in evacuation to fullest possible extent.”