It was certainly only common prudence for Mussolini to see how the war would go before committing himself and his country irrevocably. The process of waiting was by no means unprofitable. Italy was courted by both sides, and gained much consideration for her interests, many profitable contracts, and time to improve her armaments. Thus the twilight months had passed. It is an interesting speculation what the Italian fortunes would have been if this policy had been maintained. The United States with its large Italian vote might well have made it clear to Hitler that an attempt to rally Italy to his side by force of arms would raise the gravest issues. Peace, prosperity, and growing power would have been the prize of a persistent neutrality. Once Hitler was embroiled with Russia this happy state might have been almost indefinitely prolonged, with ever-growing benefits, and Mussolini might have stood forth in the peace or in the closing year of the war as the wisest statesman the sunny peninsula and its industrious and prolific people had known. This was a more agreeable situation than that which in fact awaited him.
On the two occasions in 1927 when I met Mussolini our personal relations had been intimate and easy. I would never have encouraged Britain to make a breach with him about Abyssinia or roused the League of Nations against him unless we were prepared to go to war in the last extreme. He, like Hitler, understood and in a way respected my campaign for British rearmament, though he was very glad British public opinion did not support my view.
In the crisis we had now reached of the disastrous Battle of France it was clearly my duty as Prime Minister to do my utmost to keep Italy out of the conflict, and though I did not indulge in vain hopes I at once used what resources and influence I might possess. Six days after becoming head of the Government I wrote at the Cabinet’s desire the appeal to Mussolini which, together with his answer, was published two years later in very different circumstances. It was dated 16 May, 1940.
Now that I have taken up my office as Prime Minister and Minister of Defence I look back to our meetings in Rome and feel a desire to speak words of goodwill to you as Chief of the Italian nation across what seems to be a swift-widening gulf. Is it too late to stop a river of blood from flowing between the British and Italian peoples? We can no doubt inflict grievous injuries upon one another and maul each other cruelly, and darken the Mediterranean with our strife. If you so decree, it must be so; but I declare that I have never been the enemy of Italian greatness, nor ever at heart the foe of the Italian lawgiver. It is idle to predict the course of the great battles now raging in Europe, but I am sure that whatever may happen on the Continent England will go on to the end, even quite alone, as we have done before, and I believe with some assurance that we shall be aided in increasing measure by the United States, and, indeed, by all the Americas.
I beg you to believe that it is in no spirit of weakness or of fear that I make this solemn appeal, which will remain on record. Down the ages above all other calls comes the cry that the joint heirs of Latin and Christian civilisation must not be ranged against one another in mortal strife. Hearken to it, I beseech you in all honour and respect, before the dread signal is given. It will never be given by us.
The response was hard. It had at least the merit of candour.
I reply to the message which you have sent me in order to tell you that you are certainly aware of grave reasons of an historical and contingent character which have ranged our two countries in opposite camps. Without going back very far in time I remind you of the initiative taken in 1935 by your Government to organise at Geneva sanctions against Italy, engaged in securing for herself a small space of the African sun without causing the slightest injury to your interests and territories or those of others. I remind you also of the real and actual state of servitude in which Italy finds herself in her own sea. If it was to honour your signature that your Government declared war on Germany, you will understand that the same sense of honour and of respect for engagements assumed in the Italian-German Treaty guides Italian policy to-day and to-morrow in the face of any event whatsoever.
From this moment we could have no doubt of Mussolini’s intention to enter the war at his most favourable opportunity. His resolve had in fact been made as soon as the defeat of the French armies was obvious. On May 13 he had told Ciano that he would declare war on France and Britain within a month. His official decision to declare war on any date suitable after June 5 was imparted to the Italian Chiefs of Staff on May 29. At Hitler’s request the date was postponed to June 10.
On May 26, while the fate of the Northern Armies hung in the balance and no one could be sure that any would escape, Reynaud flew over to England to have a talk with us about this topic, which had not been absent from our minds. The Italian declaration of war must be expected at any moment. Thus France would burn upon another front, and a new foe would march hungrily upon her in the South. Could anything be done to buy off Mussolini? That was the question posed. I did not think there was the slightest chance, and every fact that the French Premier used as an argument for trying only made me surer there was no hope. However, Reynaud was under strong pressure at home, and we on our side wished to give full consideration to our Ally, whose one vital weapon, her Army, was breaking in her hand. Although there was no need to marshal the grave facts, M. Reynaud dwelt not obscurely upon the possible French withdrawal from the war. He himself would fight on, but there was always the possibility that he might soon be replaced by others of a different temper.
We had already on May 25 at the instance of the French Government made a joint request to President Roosevelt to intervene. In this message Britain and France authorised him to state that we understood Italy had territorial grievances against us in the Mediterranean, that we were disposed to consider at once any reasonable claims, that the Allies would admit Italy to the Peace Conference with a status equal to that of any belligerent, and that we would invite the President to see that any agreement reached now was carried out. The President acted accordingly; but his addresses were repulsed by the Italian dictator in the most abrupt manner. At our meeting with Reynaud we had already this answer before us. The French Premier now suggested more precise proposals. Obviously, if these were to remedy Italy’s “state of servitude in her own sea”, they must affect the status both of Gibraltar and Suez. France was prepared to make similar concessions about Tunis.
We were not able to show any favour to these ideas. This was not because it was wrong to examine them or because it did not seem worth while at this moment to pay a heavy price to keep Italy out of the war. My own feeling was that at the pitch in which our affairs lay we had nothing to offer which Mussolini could not take for himself or be given by Hitler if we were defeated. One cannot easily make a bargain at the last gasp. Once we started negotiating for the friendly mediation of the Duce we should destroy our power of fighting on. I found my colleagues very stiff and tough. All our minds ran much more on bombing Milan and Turin the moment Mussolini declared war, and seeing how he liked that. Reynaud, who did not at heart disagree, seemed convinced, or at least content. This did not prevent the French Government from making a few days later a direct offer of their own to Italy of territorial concessions, which Mussolini treated with disdain. “He was not interested,” said Ciano to the French Ambassador on June 3, “in recovering any French territories by peaceful negotiation. He had decided to make war on France.” This was only what we had expected.
In spite of extreme efforts made by the United States, nothing could turn Mussolini from his course. On June 10 at 4.45 p.m. the Italian Minister for Foreign Affairs informed the British Ambassador that Italy would consider herself at war with the United Kingdom from midnight that day. A similar communication was made to the French Government. When Ciano delivered his note to the French Ambassador, M. François-Poncet remarked as he reached the door: “You too will find the Germans are hard masters.” From his balcony in Rome Mussolini announced to well-organised crowds that Italy was at war with France and Britain. It was, as Ciano is said to have apologetic
ally remarked later on, “a chance which comes only once in five thousand years.” Such chances, though rare, are not necessarily good.
Forth with the Italians attacked the French troops on the Alpine front and Great Britain reciprocally declared war on Italy. Five Italian ships detained at Gibraltar were seized, and orders were given to the Navy to intercept and bring into controlled ports all Italian vessels at sea. On the night of the 12th our bomber squadrons, after a long flight from England, which meant light loads, dropped their first bombs upon Turin and Milan. We looked forward however to a much heavier delivery as soon as we could use the French airfields at Marseilles.
The French could only muster three divisions, with fortress troops equivalent to three more, to meet invasion over the Alpine passes and along the Riviera coast by the western group of Italian armies. These comprised thirty-two divisions, under Prince Umberto. Moreover, strong German armour, rapidly descending the Rhone valley, soon began to traverse the French rear. Nevertheless the Italians were still confronted, and even pinned down, at every point on the new front by the French Alpine units, even after Paris had fallen and Lyons was in German hands. When on June 18 Hitler and Mussolini met at Munich the Duce had little cause to boast. A new Italian offensive was launched on June 21. The French Alpine positions however proved impregnable, and the major Italian effort towards Nice was halted in the outskirts of Mentone. But although the French Army on the south-eastern borders saved its honour, the German march to the south behind them made further fighting impossible, and the conclusion of the armistice with Germany was linked with a French request to Italy for the cessation of hostilities.
A speech from President Roosevelt had been announced for the night of the 10th. About midnight I listened to it with a group of officers in the Admiralty War Room, where I still worked. When he uttered the scathing words about Italy, “On this 10th day of June, 1940, the hand that held the dagger has struck it into the back of its neighbour,” there was a deep growl of satisfaction. I wondered about the Italian vote in the approaching Presidential Election; but I knew that Roosevelt was a most experienced American party politician, although never afraid to run risks for the sake of his resolves. It was a magnificent speech, instinct with passion and carrying to us a message of hope. While the impression was strong upon me, and before going to bed, I expressed my gratitude.
The rush for the spoils had begun. But Mussolini was not the only hungry animal seeking prey. To join the Jackal came the Bear.
I have already recorded the course of Anglo-Soviet relations up till the outbreak of war, and the hostility, verging upon an actual breach with Britain and France, which arose during the Russian invasion of Finland. Germany and Russia now worked together as closely as their deep divergences of interest permitted. Hitler and Stalin had much in common as totalitarians, and their systems of government were akin. Molotov beamed on the German Ambassador, Count Schulenburg, on every important occasion, and was forward and fulsome in his approval of German policy and praise for Hitler’s military measures. When the German assault had been made upon Norway he had said that the Soviet Government understood the measures which were forced upon Germany. The English had certainly gone much too far. They had disregarded completely the rights of neutral nations. “We wish Germany complete success in her defensive measures.” Hitler had taken pains to inform Stalin on the morning of May 10 of the onslaught he had begun upon France and the neutral Low Countries. “I called on Molotov,” wrote Schulenburg. “He appreciated the news, and added that he understood that Germany had to protect herself against Anglo-French attack. He had no doubt of our success.”
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Although these expressions of their opinion were of course unknown till after the war, we were under no illusions about the Russian attitude. We none the less pursued a patient policy of trying to re-establish relations of a confidential character with Russia, trusting to the march of events and to their fundamental antagonisms to Germany. It was thought wise to use the abilities of Sir Stafford Cripps as Ambassador to Moscow. He willingly accepted this bleak and unpromising task. We did not at that time realise sufficiently that Soviet Communists hate extreme Left Wing politicians even more than they do Tories or Liberals. The nearer a man is to Communism in sentiment the more obnoxious he is to the Soviets unless he joins the party. The Soviet Government agreed to receive Cripps as Ambassador, and explained this step to their Nazi confederates. “The Soviet Union”, wrote Schulenburg to Berlin on May 29, “is interested in obtaining rubber and tin from England in exchange for lumber. There is no reason for apprehension concerning Cripps’s mission, since there is no reason to doubt the loyal attitude of the Soviet Union towards us, and since the unchanged direction of Soviet policy towards England precludes damage to Germany or vital German interests. There are no indications of any kind here for belief that the latest German successes cause alarm or fear of Germany in the Soviet Government.”
The collapse of France and the destruction of the French armies and of all counter-poise in the West ought to have produced some reaction in Stalin’s mind, but nothing seemed to warn the Soviet leaders of the gravity of their own peril. On June 18, when the French defeat was total, Schulenburg reported: “Molotov summoned me this evening to his office and expressed the warmest congratulations of the Soviet Government on the splendid success of the German Armed Forces.” This was almost exactly a year from the date when these same Armed Forces, taking the Soviet Government by complete surprise, fell upon Russia in cataracts of fire and steel. We now know that only four months later in 1940 Hitler definitely decided upon a war of extermination against the Soviets, and began the long, vast, stealthy movements of these much-congratulated German armies to the East. No recollection of their miscalculation and former conduct ever prevented the Soviet Government and its Communist agents and associates all over the world from screaming for a Second Front, in which Britain, whom they had consigned to ruin and servitude, was to play a leading part. However, we comprehended the future more truly than these cold-blooded calculators, and understood their dangers and their interests better than they did themselves.
On June 14, the day Paris fell, Moscow sent an ultimatum to Lithuania accusing her and the other Baltic States of military conspiracy against the U.S.S.R. and demanding radical changes of government and military concessions. On June 15 Red Army troops invaded the country. Latvia and Estonia were exposed to the same treatment. Pro-Soviet Governments must be set up forthwith and Soviet garrisons admitted into these small countries. Resistance was out of the question. The President of Latvia was deported to Russia, and Mr. Vyshinsky arrived to nominate a Provisional Government to manage new elections. In Estonia the pattern was identical. On June 19 Zhdanov arrived to install a similar régime. On August 3–6 the pretence of pro-Soviet friendly and democratic Governments was swept away, and the Kremlin annexed the Baltic States to the Soviet Union.
A Russian ultimatum to Roumania was delivered to the Roumanian Minister in Moscow at 10 p.m. on June 26. The cession of Bessarabia and the northern part of the province of Bukovina was demanded, and an immediate reply requested by the following day. Germany, though annoyed by this precipitate action of Russia, which threatened her economic interests in Roumania, was bound by the terms of the Ribbentrop-Molotov pact of August 1939, which recognised the exclusive political interest of Russia in these areas of South-east Europe. The German Government therefore counselled Roumania to yield. On June 27 Roumanian troops were withdrawn from the two provinces concerned, and the territories passed into Russian hands. The armed forces of the Soviet Union were now firmly planted on the shores of the Baltic and at the mouths of the Danube.
GENERAL MAP WESTERN FRANCE (Cherbourg-Brest)
CHAPTER VI
BACK TO FRANCE
June 4–June 12
WHEN it was known how many men had been rescued from Dunkirk, a sense of deliverance spread in the Island and throughout the Empire. There was a feeling of intense relief, melting almost int
o triumph. The safe homecoming of a quarter of a million men, the flower of our Army, was a milestone in our pilgrimage through years of defeat. The troops returned with nothing but rifles and bayonets and a few hundred machine-guns, and were forthwith sent to their homes for seven days’ leave. Their joy at being once again united with their families did not overcome a stern desire to engage the enemy at the earliest moment. Those who had actually fought the Germans in the field had the belief that, given a fair chance, they could beat them. Their morale was high, and they rejoined their regiments and batteries with alacrity.
There was of course a darker side to Dunkirk. We had lost the whole equipment of the Army to which all the first-fruits of our factories had hitherto been given. Many months must elapse, even if the existing programmes were fulfilled without interruption by the enemy, before this loss could be repaired.
The Second World War Page 37