The Glasgow Herald had an article based on an AP report, datelined Constantinople. Hitler, it said, “may make another peace offer in the next few weeks”. It would be made directly or may come through intermediaries, according to “several persons recently arrived from Germany”.
Hitler was extremely anxious to avoid another winter of war and a direct attack on England, “which he realised would be a risky enterprise”. He still believed it was possible to defeat Britain as he had defeated France, by means of the double weapon of indiscriminate bombing coupled with intensive propaganda. Bombarding British civilians “will be continued at all costs in the hope of undermining their morale”. Then he would make another “generous gesture” and offer the possibility of peace, hoping to cause dissension among the politicians of Great Britain. And the Herald was not alone. A very similar story was published in the Daily Express, attributed to Reuters, so this was no random piece of gossip picked up by a single correspondent.
In a telegram which the German Foreign Office received this day, the chargé d’affaires in Washington, Thomsen, referred to the “immense difficulties of life” in London, and quoted a New York Times correspondent who wondered “how long the nerves of a people can withstand this kind of bombardment”.57
In Germany, the war diary entry of the Naval Operations Staff for the day lamented: “[T]he air campaign is being conducted specifically as an air offensive without regard for the current requirements of naval warfare … the fact therefore remains that chances for the execution of the landing operations have remained uninfluenced by the effects of the intensified air offensive …”. As far as the Kriegsmarine was concerned, the Luftwaffe was making no contribution to the preparations for Sealion. And without its full commitment, it was hard to see how any invasion could succeed.58
DAY 66 – FRIDAY 13 SEPTEMBER 1940
Overnight, 105 bombers had raided the capital. Casualties were said to be “relatively light”, with 110 killed and 260 injured in the London area. There were harassing raids in the Home Counties and East Anglia, while four bombs fell in a “Lancashire coastal town”, identified by the Germans as Liverpool. The raid killed seven, injured fifteen and destroyed ten houses.
Emerging from the night’s bombing, Londoners were again regaled with stories of impending invasion, matched by tales of derring do, as Nazi convoys in the Channel had been bombed and “barge concentrations” attacked. That news, however, was two days old. The Daily Mail ran the banner headline, “RAF counter the invasion”, while the Glasgow Herald had its Naval correspondent write that the Nazi leaders had hopelessly underestimated the difficulties of an invasion. Despite this, General Alan Brooke wrote in his diary, “Everything looks like an invasion starting tomorrow from the Thames to Plymouth! I wonder if we shall be hard at it by this time tomorrow”.59
German preparations were proceeding apace, but were by no means complete. Most of the steamers needed had been transferred to the invasion ports, but there were still thirteen steamers en route from the French Atlantic ports.
Hitler was hosting a gala lunch for his newly promoted colonel generals, twenty of them, attended also by Keitel, Jodl, von Brauchitsch, and Göring. Expansive about the favourable air situation and fortified by the glowing reports of the devastation caused by the Luftwaffe, he told his generals that the invasion was no longer necessary. He agreed with von Brauchitsch that it should only go ahead as a mop-up operation, once the enemy had been “seriously damaged”. But he and the High Command were also coming to the conclusion that mid-September was too soon to expect such a result. In the interim, the risks were too great to proceed.60
Air activity was of little strategic importance on the day. RAF and Luftwaffe losses were light, each force losing seven aircraft. Some damage was done to the Chatham Naval Dockyard. But there was one raid which had massive propaganda implications. With poor weather over the south-east, major daylight operations had been ruled out and Luftwaffe resorted to “nuisance” raids. One aircraft dropped a bomb on the garden of Downing Street and then a stick of five bombs on Buckingham Palace, damaging the Royal Chapel.
At the day’s War Cabinet, the Labour Minister of Health spoke at length. This was Malcolm MacDonald, son of Ramsey – the first ever Labour prime minister. It had been an astute move of Churchill to appoint him to this key post back in May. MacDonald told his colleagues of “a remarkable improvement in the morale of the people during the preceding 36 hours”. He put this down to the heavy anti-aircraft fire. Perversely, it had had the effect of slowing down the evacuation of the homeless. People who earlier had clamoured to be taken away were now reluctant to leave.
Another big problem was the fracture of the Northern Outfall. A vital part of the sewage pumping machinery had been damaged and the main sewers broken in several places. Sewage was draining into the River Lea instead of into the Thames. Repairs would take several months, it was said. And the Silvertown district, which had been at the epicentre of the bombing, had been evacuated owing to the water supply being cut off. The supply had been restored, but people would not be allowed to return.
But the far bigger problem was the shelters. People in certain parts of London were “showing reluctance” to use Anderson and street shelters. They preferred underground shelters, such as the basements of churches, schools and public buildings. These were getting overcrowded, and outbreaks of infectious disease were feared.61 But the London Evening Standard reported that “hundreds of people” had used Tube stations as air-raid shelters. “From Earl’s Court to Leicester square (sic), for example, every platform was lined with people sitting on newspapers and leaning against the wall”. Few, the newspaper observed, appeared to make any effort to catch the trains, although the services were still running.
That brought the War Cabinet to discuss increasing the amount of air-raid shelter accommodation in London. The use of the Tubes for this purpose “was proposed”, but by whom was not recorded. The Minister of Transport intervened to reject the idea. This was John, soon to become Lord, Reith. He had been first director-general of the BBC and then Minister of Information under Chamberlain, before being exiled to the transport portfolio by Churchill. He told his colleagues that he had examined the question, but agreed with the conclusions of the committee which had examined the question before the war. It was more important to keep the Tubes available for transport.
John Anderson chipped in, telling the Cabinet that the Commissioner of Police “strongly deprecated the use of the tubes as shelters”. The public had been educated to use shelters and there was broadly sufficient shelter accommodation available for the majority of the population. Advice urging the public to use shelters was continually being given, and new shelters were being built as soon as material was available. Materials for air-raid shelters did not, however, enjoy a very high priority, and the supply presented some difficulty. Whatever members of the Cabinet may have privately felt, they agreed on a common line: the shelters provided, while “not affording immunity from a direct hit”, offered the best protection available.62
The attack on Buckingham Palace then was discussed. The Cabinet rallied round to “invite” the Prime Minister to send a message on their behalf to the King. “The War Cabinet offer their hearty congratulations to their Majesties”, it said, “on their providential escape from the barbarous attack made on their home and Royal Persons”. The Cabinet also agreed that, “subject to His Majesty’s consent”, the fullest publicity should be given to their message.63
11.
Rebellion
It is your destiny to lead Britain to victory. It is your right as citizens of the greatest city this world has ever known to show all others the way. It is not an easy way. Victory cannot be achieved by seeking safety and forgetting the rest. But the results of your endurance will be glorious. There will be a crown for your courage.
Editorial, Daily Express, 20 September 1940
The daylight air war was building to a climax and 15 September was to be marked
as the day a victory turned the battle, later celebrated as Battle of Britain Day. Problematically, however, the night bombing continued, bringing a confrontation between the people of London and the government over air-raid shelter policy, and in particular the use of Tube stations. The government had rejected their use, triggering mass disobedience and then outright rebellion, in what may have been one of the most critical periods of the war.
DAY 67 – SATURDAY 14 SEPTEMBER 1940
Over a hundred Londoners lay dead from the latest raids, but there was no confusion in the British media about the most important story: Buckingham Palace. This was the second time the palace had been hit, but this was the incident that really made the headlines. The Daily Mirror splashed across its front page, “King and Queen in palace, bombed”, with the Daily Express offering a more lurid: “Dive bombers try to kill the King and Queen”. Famously, the Queen was said to have remarked that she was glad to have been bombed. She could now look the East End in the face.1
Under the signature of Neville Chamberlain, a more sombre report was reaching the War Cabinet, analysing the overall extent of the bombing damage to London. None of the news was good but, in particular, the authors regarded the railway situation with some anxiety. If the damage was to increase, the position might well progressively deteriorate, they wrote, and lead to serious traffic congestion in a short time. Further, the supply of coal to the south of England, which was already difficult owing to the great reduction in the seaborne coal traffic to the south coast, was bound to be aggravated. We think, they concluded, that the position on the railways is one which should be closely watched.2
Unsurprisingly, the “authoritative” German publication Das Reich – the house journal for the Nazi Party – called on “London” to surrender, or face the fate of Warsaw or Paris. Very few Londoners would have read the call, which was also published in the New York Times. Many more would have read the leader in the Guardian, which was trying to make sense of events. The attack on London was causing damage and disorganization to the daily life of the capital city, it mused, but “that can hardly be an end in itself”. The paper also noted that Göring needed mastery of the air “in order to support whatever plans his Führer may have for an invasion”. It then noted that “neither fires behind St Paul’s nor bombs on Buckingham Palace would bring it any nearer in a military sense”.
In Berlin, Hitler and Räder met. The air attacks against England, and in particular those against London, must continue without interruption, the Grand Admiral told his Führer. Given suitable weather conditions, the attacks should continue at the expense of the preparations for Sealion “because they might bring about a decision of the war”. Hitler summed up the situation thus:
Attacks to date have had enormous effects, though perhaps chiefly upon nerves. Part of that psychological effect is the fear of invasion. That anticipation of its imminence must not be removed. Even though victory in the air should not be achieved before another ten or twelve days, Britain might yet be seized by mass hysteria. If, within the coming ten or twelve days, we achieve mastery of the air over a certain area, we could, by a landing operation, compel the enemy to come out with his destroyers against our landing fleet. We could then inflict upon the enemy such losses that he would no longer be able to protect his convoys. Cancellation of our plans would not remain a secret. It would ease the strain on the enemy’s nerves, and consequently must not be ordered now.
Three points emerged from this. First, the invasion threat was a psychological weapon. Secondly, Hitler expected the air offensive to succeed, but “mass hysteria” might bring an earlier collapse. Thirdly, the purpose of a landing operation would be to entice the British destroyer fleet to its own destruction, robbing the convoys of escorts. And, if the ships were sunk, Britain starved. Nevertheless, doffing his cap to the idea that the invasion could still be executed, he promised to make a final decision on whether to go ahead, in three days time – 17 September.3
Within the British Air Ministry, there seemed to be little concern about an invasion. More important was Dowding’s failure to deal with night bombers. Having set up a powerful and well organized day fighter force, he had effectively created the airborne equivalent of the Maginot Line, which the Germans – as they had done in May 1940 with the real thing – were circumventing. A committee was set up, ostensibly to look at the problem, headed by former Chief of the Air Staff, Sir John Salmond. Called the Night Defence Committee, members included Trenchard, Air Marshals Freeman, Joubert, Tedder and Sholto Douglas. This was office politics. The outcome was already decided. It was a “get Dowding” committee which would represent the problem as his personal failure, the headline issue by which his downfall would be engineered.4
Meanwhile, real people were suffering. Communist councillor for Stepney, Phil Piratin, took charge of some fifty of them, including a group of what Time magazine called “ill-clad children”. As the sirens sounded, they burst into the Savoy Hotel and occupied the basement air-raid shelter. “If it is good enough for the rich it is good enough for the Stepney workers and their families”, he declared. After a tense confrontation with the police, the hotel manager allowed them to remain. Negotiation with the waiting staff produced silver trays laden with pots of tea, bread and butter, at a heavily discounted price. As the initial tension dissipated, it became a relatively good-humoured occupation and the demonstrators left when the “all clear” sounded, but not before having had a “whip round” to tip the doorman.5
The Guardian thought the occupation a symptom of the “serious deficiencies” in the help given to those affected by bombing. People, it said, should not be treated as victims of misfortune “whose adversities are to be tempered by charity” but as citizens “who happened to have received blows from a common enemy which other citizens have so far escaped”. This was but one sign that the political consensus was breaking down. Labour councillors in a northern town were demanding better shelters for schoolchildren, condemning existing provisions as “totally inadequate”. Elsewhere, there was concern expressed about the lack of amenities in public shelters, after women with babies, children and old people were reported coming away from them “almost on the point of collapse”.
Home Intelligence thus reported, perhaps unsurprisingly: “there is little interest in the possibility of an invasion, nor does the prospect alarm people”. In the regional reports, the observation from Leeds (north-east) was: “Despite warnings about invasion, it cannot be said that most people take the threat seriously”. Nevertheless, Alan Brooke wrote in his diary:
Ominous quiet! German shipping reserves greatly reduced. Have the Germans completed their preparations for invasion? Are they giving their air force a last brush and wash up? Will he start tomorrow, or is it all a bluff to pin troops down in this country while he prepares to help Italy to invade Egypt etc??6
For Fighter Command, this was an opportunity to rebuild its operational strength. Newly manufactured and repaired fighters replenished inventories, airfields and radar stations were restored and newly trained pilots were integrated with rested veterans. Park then paired Hurricane and Spitfire units, the one to attack bombers, the other to take on the fighters.
Just past three in the afternoon, 150 German aircraft crossed the coast headed for London. Another wave of 100 came over at six, some of them attacking airfields. Most did not get through to their primary targets, but numerous isolated incidents were reported. Despite good weather overnight, there was little bombing of London. Leicester took some hits and four houses were demolished.
Bombing reports were being presented daily to the War Cabinet. But they did not begin to confront the sheer brutality of unrestricted warfare. For instance, in the north-west town of Warrington on this fine Saturday afternoon, families were enjoying a “Spitfire gala” on Thames Board Mill’s recreation ground, held to raise money for the town’s Spitfire fund.
Without warning, a bomber dived down and released two bombs. One completely wrecked the light wo
oden clubhouse. A local newspaper reported two families “partly wiped out”, members of others “lie in hospital gravely wounded”. One bomb fell in the canteen and 150 people were buried in the wreckage. Of these, 14 were killed and 21 seriously injured. It was all over in seconds, leaving the dead, dying, injured and a mass of mangled debris as the Nazi bomber swept back into the skies and vanished”.7
Hundreds of miles south, in Brighton, 11-year-old Monica Duplock and her 9-year-old brother had gone to the Odeon Kemp Town cinema to watch a matinee performance. As they sat in the cinema, a Spitfire was pursuing a Dornier bomber that had become parted from the rest of its formation. In a vain attempt to escape its pursuer, the Dornier pilot jettisoned his load. Twenty-five 100lb bombs rained down on Kemp Town. Two smashed into the cinema, killing three children outright. Monica was hit in the neck by flying shrapnel and was bleeding very badly from her wound. Her brother, in a desperate attempt to save his sister’s life, carried her to the nearby Sussex County Hospital. She died there of her injuries.8
In the whole of the war, 198 people died in Brighton from the bombing. Including Monica, 52 died on this one day, representing over a quarter of that total. This was a day that the fine-suited gentlemen in RAF Fighter Command regarded as a “lull”, recording an “unusually low” level of attacks. Flying 860 sorties, they lost fifteen aircraft, with four others destroyed, a total of nineteen against the Luftwaffe’s nine, one of which was an He 59 rescue seaplane. Monica would have been so proud.
DAY 68 – SUNDAY 15 SEPTEMBER 1940
The Berlin correspondent of the Swiss newspaper Basler Nachrichten reported what he thought was a “curious change” in the utterances from Berlin regarding the conduct of the war. The Germans now say, he wrote, that the destruction of London and its industrial organization will mean the paralysis of the entire economic and financial structure of the Empire. Therefore, an invasion of Britain will not now be necessary to defeat her.
Many Not the Few: The Stolen History of the Battle of Britain Page 29
