Many Not the Few: The Stolen History of the Battle of Britain

by Richard North

  This passed by most of the public. The spat was seen as a dispute between the Press and the minister. Home Intelligence reported growing confidence in the defence of “our island fortress”. On this Saturday though, the big news – for the Daily Express, at least – was that its proprietor, Lord Beaverbrook, had been appointed to the War Cabinet. He was to remain minister of aircraft production.

  The invasion temperature appeared to be rising. The next day was the anniversary of the start of the First World War. The Monday was the start of a brief period when the tides would be at their highest and thus believed to be the most favourable for an invasion. This was enough to ramp up the “scare”. It was then intensified by reports in the French media of Nazis “concentrating troops all the way from the Spanish border to the Belgian frontier”. The irony was unrecognized – this was the very antithesis of concentration. Nevertheless, in Rome, the Corriere Padano newspaper said that the “zero hour” for a concerted Axis attack against Britain was “about to strike”.

  Bombs fell on the outskirts of Swansea and a few fell into the waters of Swansea Bay. No casualties were reported. In and among 415 sorties, Fighter Command intercepted five raids in the south-west, without loss, but six other RAF aircraft were downed, against four Luftwaffe losses. Naval Albacores were in operation against invasion targets in Dutch ports. SS Wychwood was sunk by a mine off Aldeburgh. The steamer Statira, sailing in convoy for London, was badly damaged by German bombing near Stornoway. Overnight, the Luftwaffe continued its minelaying.

  However, the most important event of the day, if not the battle so far, was to remain secret for many years. Churchill later described it as the day when the King of Sweden “thought fit to address us on the subject” of Hitler’s peace offer. The reference is disingenuous. The US media had known about it and had been reporting on it for well over a week. The offer itself was the culmination of continuous diplomatic activity since before 19 July. This the Prime Minister himself acknowledged. He admitted that after Hitler’s speech there had been “days” of diplomatic representations through Sweden, the USA and the Vatican. Even then, there was no mention of Berne.26

  Churchill now had in front of him a draft Foreign Office response. He thought it was “trying to be too clever”, entering into “refinements of policy unsuited to the tragic simplicity and grandeur of the times and the issues at stake”. He suggested demanding “effective guarantees by deeds, not words”, amounting to complete German withdrawal for all her occupied territories, and guarantees of security. These were conditions Hitler would never accept. The quadrille appeared to be at an end.

  Churchill also sent what appeared to be a coded signal via the press, the effect being to emphasize his rejection of the offer. “The Prime Minister wishes it to be known,” he said, “that the possibility of German attempts at invasion has by no means passed away … Our sense of growing strength and preparedness must not lead to the slightest relaxation or moral alertness”. The British Prime Minister had closed the door to peace and cleared the decks for war.

  Churchill was ready and waiting, apparently spoiling for a fight. In his memoirs, then Free French leader, General Charles de Gaulle recalls seeing the British Prime Minister at Chequers, one August day, raising his fists towards the sky. He cried, “So they won’t come!” De Gaulle had said to him, “Are you in such a hurry to see your towns smashed to bits?” Churchill had replied that the bombing of Oxford, Coventry and Canterbury “will cause such a wave of indignation in the United States that they’ll come into the war”.

  6.

  War drums

  Don’t be deceived by this lull before the storm, because, although there is still the chance of peace, Hitler is aware of the political and economic confusion in England, and is only waiting for the right moment. Then, when his moment comes, he will strike, and strike hard.

  William Joyce (Lord Haw-Haw), Radio Hamburg broadcast, 6 August 1940

  Had this been an epic Hollywood Western, native scouts would have been anxiously scanning the horizon, listening to distant war drums beating with ever-greater intensity. In rock gullies, murderous struggles would be being played out, as outriders clashed with Indian war parties. Back at the fort, the music would be playing as elegant officers danced with their costumed wives.

  DAY 26 – SUNDAY 4 AUGUST 1940

  August was holiday time, and this was supposed to be Bank Holiday weekend – except that it had been cancelled. Nevertheless, where access to beaches was still permitted, large crowds congregated. The Home Intelligence report for the day identified “continued indifference to international affairs” and the war in general. Altogether, there was a lack of focus as people relegated the hostilities to lower down their lists of concerns.

  The papers carried Churchill’s invasion warning, taking it largely at face value. The Sunday Express put the key quote on the front page, with the words in capitals. Alongside the warning, the Observer invoked the anniversary of the start of the First World War, but the newspaper was not alone in referring to it. J. B. Priestley did so as well. Himself a veteran who had had a torrid time in the trenches, he referred to it when he broadcast another of his evening Postscript talks on the BBC.

  He was attracting audiences of over ten million, perhaps the only speaker who could challenge Churchill’s growing popularity. His talks were being reported by newspapers, increasing the size of his audience. And this Sunday’s effort was one of his most controversial. “We must not only summon our armed forces,” he said, “wave our flags and sing our national anthems, but we must go deeper and by an almost mystical act of will, hold to our faith and hope.” He continued:

  We have to fight this great battle not only with guns in daylight, but alone in the night, communing with our souls, strengthening our faith that in common men everywhere there is a spring of innocent aspiration and good will that cannot be sealed.

  His appeal to the “common man” attracted many complaints, notably from the government chief whip, Captain David Margesson, acting on behalf of a group of right-wing Tories.

  It was not only Priestley’s broadcasts that were getting the attention though. In the Sunday Express he had been interviewed by resident columnist, Peter Howard, in a feature entitled “People I meet”. Priestley, he wrote, “believes that the common people of England must have a greater share in running the country”. Nazism was evil, but the force behind it was good – it was the despair and dissatisfaction of the people with the world as it is. “In our new world,” he said, “there must be an outlet for young men of energy. In the old England there was no part for energetic young men to play. That is half the secret of these Nazi and Fascist successes.”

  Through the day, there was little air activity. Two British bombers were lost. Fighter Command flew a “mere” 261 sorties, losing one Spitfire which crashed in a practice dogfight. Its pilot was killed. A Blenheim fighter and a Defiant were also lost, bringing total RAF losses to five. The Luftwaffe lost six aircraft.

  Action at sea was particularly bloody. Heroes of the action were the armed trawlers. Designated Her Majesty’s Trawlers (HMT), they were manned by reserve officers and conscripted crews, some of them civilians who had never before been to sea. Mostly, but not always, they were unloved, unsung and unrewarded. By the war end, nearly 500 of them had been lost.

  This day, anti-submarine trawler Kingston Chrysoberyl, engaged a German E-boat off St Catherine. Minesweeping trawler Drummer was sunk by a mine off Brightlingsea, Essex. Two ratings were lost. Minesweeping trawler Marsona was sunk on a mine off Cromarty. An officer and ten ratings were killed. Minesweeping trawler Oswaldian was sunk on a mine in the Bristol Channel. Twelve ratings were lost. Also, the steamer White Crest was damaged by German bombing off Cape Wrath. Even in the air, the Navy was taking losses. In a raid on oil tanks and barges at Rotterdam, two officers were killed when their Swordfish was shot down.

  Understandably, the Senior Service was not always impressed by its junior upstarts. In their tiny war
ships there was danger, little glamour and precious little recognition. But this was not sour grapes over disproportionate publicity for the air war. Overall, the effect was to perpetuate the distorted impression of fighting intensity and skew resource priorities. Despite apparently preparing for an invasion, the Germans were themselves committing substantial resources to the blockade.

  Churchill himself was less than sanguine about the situation. This day – before even the extent of the losses was known to him – he had sent a minute to Admiral Pound, and the First Lord of the Admiralty, noting that the losses on the North-Western Approaches were “most grievous”, asking to be “assured” that the problems were being grappled with. He did concede, however, that the “great falling off in the control” was largely due to “the shortage of destroyers through invasion precautions”. He wanted a “protective concentration”, based on a new headquarters in Liverpool, then complaining about the delays in moving command operations north from Plymouth.1

  DAY 27 – MONDAY 5 AUGUST 1940

  Hitler’s thoughts this day were on the plan to invade Russia, delivered by General Erich Marcks. With the outline in his hands, he set the time for the spring of 1941. Jodl was having to deal with more immediate concerns. Hader, the Army Chief of Staff, had caught up with Räder’s assumption that the narrow front was now policy. Von Brauchitsch was involved and tensions were building between the two services.

  In an attempt to smooth over the dispute, Jodl got an agreement between the parties that the Navy chief had misunderstood Hitler who, while appearing to support the Army, had not actually committed to a broad front. Räder accepted this, but insisted that the issue had to be resolved. It was thus arranged with von Brauchitsch that Halder, and the Navy senior planner, Admiral Schniewind, would meet in Fontainebleau to see if a solution could be agreed.

  Almost on autopilot, the Luftwaffe continued attacking shipping in the Straits of Dover. A raid on Norwich, however, caused considerable alarm. The bomber was identified as a Blenheim, raising speculation that the Germans were using captured machines. This was taken seriously enough for the Air Ministry to order all British aircraft to change their markings, leading to some potentially fatal incidents when aircraft with old-style markings were challenged by fighters.

  On the day the Luftwaffe lost three aircraft, against three RAF fighters, with Fighter Command flying 402 sorties. Bomber Command was building its strength and the scale of operations, with eighty-five sorties flown. Through this day and night, there had been considerable activity. Coastal Command aircraft had been busy as well, taking part in forty-nine sorties, losing one Hudson. On the naval front, trawlers south of Selsey Bill were attacked early in the morning. RAF fighters failed to intercept. Another minesweeping trawler, this one the River Clyde, was sunk by a mine off Aldeburgh Light Float. Eleven ratings were killed immediately and one died of wounds.

  DAY 28 – TUESDAY 6 AUGUST 1940

  The morning headline from the Daily Mirror sought to explain “Why Hitler has waited so long”. It was talking about air raids, not an invasion. The reason was that the Luftwaffe was not quite ready. Crews needed additional training. Readers were warned to expect not fifty or a hundred machines in an attack, but hundreds. With extraordinary prescience, the paper forecast extensive night raids, and told its readers: “this must be remembered: neither the Germans nor ourselves have yet solved the problem of intercepting bombers at night. In any raid, a number of planes are sure to get through the defences”.

  In terms of the bigger picture, Home Intelligence was reporting that “there are many in authority who feel that the present lull should have been used (and might still be used) for a clear statement of a constructive peace policy on our part”.2

  As to the air war, the weather was cloudy and windy – not ideal for operations. The Luftwaffe was still operating on a small scale, and still mounting attacks against ports, shipping and airfields. It lost three aircraft on this day. Bomber Command lost a Hampden. Fighter Command lost five aircraft, all to accidents, including two at night. One pilot was killed. Accidents were the hidden toll exacted by air warfare. Pilot Officer H. W. A. Britton, serving with No. 17 Sqn, had taken off in a Hurricane on a routine air test. His aircraft crashed shortly afterwards, caught fire and was destroyed. Britton was killed. The cause of the crash was unknown.

  For all that there was killing on an industrial scale, war occasionally took on a human face. Henry Wilfred Arthur Britton, known as “Billie”, was born at Crowborough, Sussex, on 8 July 1921, son of a major in the Royal Corps of Signals. He was an “Army brat”, educated at Army schools in Egypt, Aldershot and Catterick before attending state schools in Bedford and Edinburgh. He joined the RAF on a short-service commission in May 1939. After training at Perth and Brize Norton, he was posted to 12 Group Pool on 23 February 1940 where he converted to Hurricanes. A posting to No. 17 Sqn at Martlesham Heath followed in March. He was 19 years old when he died, his career as a front-line pilot lasting less than five months.3

  Meanwhile, Göring had called a meeting in his Karin Hall base to brief his commanders on Eagle Attack.4 William Joyce (Lord Haw-Haw) ramped up his rhetoric, through Germany Calling.5 This day he told his British audience:

  I make no apology for saying again that invasion is certainly coming soon, but what I want to impress upon you is that while you must feverishly take every conceivable precaution, nothing that you or the Government can do is really of the slightest use. Don’t be deceived by this lull before the storm, because, although there is still the chance of peace, Hitler is aware of the political and economic confusion in England, and is only waiting for the right moment. Then, when his moment comes, he will strike, and strike hard.

  It was a risky, even foolhardy strategy, threatening something that might not happen, a huge bluff that would spell ruin if called. However, the regional Yorkshire Post reported that well-informed quarters in London believed an air Blitzkrieg would be launched soon. The RAF was closely watching for signs of a German invasion of this country, reassuringly certain that it would be able to give due warning of its launch.

  Kirke L. Simpson, for the AP, explained to his American readers some of the background.6 His was a long article headed: “Nazis may delay invasion attempt”. If the week passed without invasion, he concluded: “it would go far toward convincing the world that whatever his own desire, Hitler’s generals had ruled out invasion as too risky until England has been ‘softened’ by blockade”.

  This view was shared by the US military and naval establishments. General Pershing, former commander of the American Expeditionary Force, wrote that England had most to fear from the German air and sea blockade, not the invasion. He thought that a Blitzkrieg against England, if attempted during this week of high tides and dark nights, would be beaten off.

  Simpson reminded his readers that Hitler had recently told the Reichstag that the German invasion of Norway had been the most “daring” military adventure in history. Attempting an invasion of England, unless Britons had been brought close to despair by bombing and starvation, would make the Norwegian campaign a minor operation by contrast. The elements argue for it, he wrote. Every rule of military prudence is against it. In his final passage, however, Simpson noted that:

  unlikely though the prospect of invasion might be, the British authorities are doing nothing to contradict the suggestion that the Germans are coming. The threat of invasion is a unifying force. Possibly, it is of greater value to the British government than it is to the Germans. For the best of all possible reasons, the British nation is being put through an elaborate charade.

  At this point, however, there was no way of telling whether Hitler was going through the motions. Only he could tell whether he was truly committed to the operation, and he never shared his innermost thoughts.

  DAY 29 – WEDNESDAY 7 AUGUST 1940

  In June, when the Germans had been least prepared to invade, British “invasion fever” had been at its highest. Now, with invasion preparation
s more advanced than they had ever been, Home Intelligence reported “growing confidence” that any German invasion would be repelled. Despite Churchill’s attempts and the increasing stridency of German propaganda, some respondents were expressing the view that the danger of invasion was “remote”. The war was “somewhat in the background” and those who could were trying to get on their holidays. Good weather and the “holiday spirit” had made a valuable contribution to continued cheerfulness.

  In Berlin, a clue as to the thinking of the High Command came when Keitel issued a new order entitled: “Directive on deceptive measures to maintain appearance of constant threat of invasion of UK”. This started in a curious fashion, stating “whether or not we invade England” the constant menace of invasion must be maintained against the English people and the armed forces. But the thrust was to ask for proposals to make the main operation appear to be an invasion of the east coast as well as Ireland. “Individuals below a specified grade of the High Command who are concerned with the preparations are not to be informed that their tasks are aimed at deception”, the directive instructed.

  In Fontainebleau, Halder and Schniewind, accompanied by Admiral Fricke, met for informal discussions – Army versus Navy. Halder did not meet the pair in his office, but in his special train, which then headed for Normandy where Halder was to watch demonstrations of landing craft in action.7 During the meeting, there was a “strong clash of opinion”. The Army Chief of Staff rejected out of hand the concept of the “narrow front” landing in the Dover area. The hinterland was “extremely unsuitable” for a frontal attack, while the area was too constrained. The Army needed to land ten divisions in four days, and that could not be done from a single, narrow beachhead.