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

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Many Not the Few: The Stolen History of the Battle of Britain Page 39

by Richard North


  The fatal inadequacies of the shelter policy were now laid bare – or would have been but for the intervention of the censor. In three days, there had been as many shelter incidents and a rest centre bombed. The deaths – nearly 500 in total – were all linked in some way to the policy.

  Unease even percolated the War Cabinet. There was considerable discussion about the effect of the bombing on civilian morale. But there was no discussion about shelters. The people of London, it was said, were beginning to wonder whether we were hitting back hard enough at Germany in our bombing operations. If this feeling was allowed to grow “it might have an unfortunate effect on our war effort”. Churchill told his Cabinet that those concerned were “straining every nerve to improve means of countering night bombing”, with good prospects that defensive measures would be greatly improved within the next two or three months. He would consider whether it would be desirable for him to make another broadcast speech.42

  The War Cabinet also considered the “likelihood of invasion”. The agenda item referred to Churchill’s promise on 4 October, to release warships on anti-invasion duty for convoy escort. On this day Churchill said it would be premature to suppose that the danger of invasion had passed. Intelligence reports, he said, had indicated that enemy plans were still moving forward and, in these circumstances “it would not be possible for the Navy to withdraw any more of their forces from the invasion front in order to strengthen shipping escorts in the north-west approaches”.43

  With that, the Prime Minister went to the House of Commons to answer questions … on war aims. He was challenged by Samuel “Sydney” Silverman the Labour MP for Nelson and Colne, a prominent activist on Jewish causes and a pacifist who had spent time in jail in the First World War. He was a reluctant supporter of the current war, in response to Hitler’s anti-semitism. Silverman asked Churchill:

  [I]n anticipation of the time when this country and its Allies are in a position to resume the military offensive,[will you state] in general terms, our aims in this war, so that this country may take its rightful place as the leader of all those, wherever they may be found, who desire a new order in Europe, based not upon slavery to Germany but upon collective justice, prosperity, and security?44

  Silverman, however, was given the opportunity of repeatedly questioning the Prime Minister, in a way not seen in contemporary Commons exchanges, asking him whether a “continued negative attitude in this matter” fostered “the quite false impression that we are fighting this war merely to retain the status quo”. This elicited what amounted to an affirmation that this was precisely the Prime Minister’s intent, with his clearest statement yet on his position:

  I do not think anyone has the opinion that we are fighting this war merely to maintain the status quo. We are, among other things, fighting it in order to survive, and when our capacity to do that is more generally recognised throughout the world, when the conviction that we have about it here becomes more general, then we shall be in a good position to take a further view of what we shall do with the victory when it is won.45

  What had brought up the matter at this time had been the announcement by the Ministry of Information that they were working out a policy of war aims, as reported in The Times on 28 September. It had also been the subject of a Zec cartoon in the Mirror on 30 September, which had Duff Cooper as a dove reading from “the Great Peace Manifesto” – with Hitler in the bushes attempting to shoot him with a revolver.

  The prospect of a statement had excited the interest of Sir Geoffrey Mander, a Liberal MP, wealthy industrialist, philanthropist and Parliamentary Private Secretary to Archibald Sinclair. He had tabled a question which had been “dead batted” on 10 October and had responded by initiating an adjournment debate, bringing Duff Cooper to the House to discuss the issue.46 But, if Members had come expecting a firm statement, they were to be disappointed. There was no intention of making one, even if Cooper showed where his sympathies lay. He told the House: “I admit quite frankly the desirability of issuing a statement as soon as possible, but … there should be no undue haste”.

  Having spoken at length of the “threat of tyranny” and of taking up arms to “defend our liberty and the freedom of the world”, he was sharply corrected by Richard Stokes, the Labour MP for Ipswich, Military Cross winner in the First World War and soon to become an arch critic of the area bombing policy. Cooper, said Stokes, had enunciated what we were fighting against, but not what we were fighting for. “[It] is no use fighting for a negative object. You must have a positive one, and the sooner that [is] stated the better.” His interjection brought an impassioned response from Cooper:

  We are fighting for our liberty. When we walk about the streets of London we see how buildings have been destroyed. Some of them may have been beautiful houses, and some may have been ugly houses. If we had been asked a year ago whether we wanted to destroy those houses in that way, we would have said, “No, let them stand and serve their purpose as long as possible.” But now naturally it is our duty to take thought of how, when the time comes, we can build them up again, better and more useful than ever. Equally this world which is now being destroyed by this terrific war, a war which we never desired and which we were prepared to do almost everything to avoid, when this war shall have destroyed a great part of the modern world, it will be our duty then, as it must be our duty now, to think how we can rebuild a more and more beautiful fabric.

  But the Prime Minister had spoken. Despite his claims to the contrary, it was to be the status quo. There was to be no discussion of how we could rebuild “a more and more beautiful fabric”, much less of what that fabric should look like.

  Meanwhile, the dirty business of war continued. At noon, six large enemy motor torpedo boats were sighted nine miles off Dover proceeding westwards. They were engaged by shore batteries, but not hit. After nightfall, HMS Erebus was again in action, this time off Dunkirk when she fired fifty rounds from her 15in guns. The air war, however, did not yield dividends for the British. Nineteen Fighter Command losses, plus two others, brought the total to twenty-one, against twelve Luftwaffe losses.

  DAY 99 –WEDNESDAY 16 OCTOBER 1940

  Formally published this day was a propaganda film on the Blitz, called “London can take it”. Narrated by American journalist Quentin Reynolds, it was intended for a US audience in a country where there was less than a month to go before the presidential election. The RAF was not mentioned. The film was about Londoners and the Blitz. Opening the narration, Reynolds said:

  The searchlights are in position, the guns are ready, the people’s army of volunteers is ready – they are the ones who are really fighting this war, the firemen, the air raid wardens, the ambulance drivers – and there’s the wail of the banshee (siren sounds) … the nightly siege of London has begun. The city is dressed for battle.

  The People’s War imagery, already having been strongly promoted by the trades unions, was wholly distinct from the élitist vision that encompassed Churchill’s “few”. But the message had been tailored for an egalitarian US audience, selling the war to which was an important part of the British propaganda effort.47 Even then, many might have had difficulty seeing any similarity between their circumstances and the scenes depicted. Nevertheless, Reynolds was not a propagandist simply parroting a script. In November 1942, he was to pen a widely syndicated piece, where he stated unequivocally: “This is a people’s war”. He went on:

  The Battle of Britain was not won by the RAF alone. It was won by thousands of civilians who three times saved the city of London from complete destruction. It was won by the sweat and toil of men and women who bent over lathes and drill presses in Manchester, in Birmingham, in Coventry and Sheffield, turning out guns and aircraft, bombs and ships, molding (sic) the sinews of war.

  Back on this day, in the House of Lords, shelters were the issue. The Earl of Listowel, a Labour Peer and member of the London County Council for East Lewisham, led a debate on Greater London’s war problems. It was generally a
dmitted, he charged, that “existing facilities for the protection of the civilian population of London from air attack have been and are still inadequate”. There had been “a remarkable lack of foresight when envisaging the sort of onslaught that would be launched by the Luftwaffe on the London area”. We had to remedy our unpreparedness as speedily as possible, he said.48

  The War Cabinet, by coincidence, was discussing shelter disasters, including Stoke Newington. But its focus was on the offensive. The concern remained that morale might begin to suffer if the public felt that the reply to night bombing was ineffective. It was of the utmost importance, the Cabinet agreed, that every effort should be made to counter it. This was a fond hope, not backed by anything of substance. And John Anderson, immersed in studying the coal supply situation, was getting worried about keeping the east coast coal traffic going – sufficient to put down a marker with the War Cabinet.49

  Once again, though, discussion was dominated by the “subversive press”, the issue having come to a head after Clement Attlee and Beaverbrook had met representatives of the Newspaper Proprietors’ Association. Subsequently, they had met representatives of the Sunday Pictorial and the Daily Mirror, including the executive editor, Cecil King. Attlee had told an unrepentant King that many people thought these articles were “a deliberate Fifth Column activity”. What then exactly transpired was not revealed, but King was recorded as appearing “somewhat chastened”, and undertaking “to exercise care in the future”. Beaverbrook thought the two newspapers would amend their behaviour, “at any rate for the time being”.50

  In the air war, Birmingham had taken the hit overnight. A bomb on RAF Ternhill in Shropshire struck a hangar, destroying it and twenty training aircraft inside. Two Fighter Command losses, plus fourteen from Bomber and Coastal Command brought the total to thirty-six, against eleven Luftwaffe losses.

  DAY 100 – THURSDAY 17 OCTOBER 1940

  The specialist aviation magazine Flight commented on the use of Me 109s as fighter bombers, arguing that it indicated “the Germans have admitted to themselves that the attempt to overwhelm Britain from the air has failed”. Curiously, the analysis was being based on developments in the day fighting and while it doffed its cap to the damage done by the night bombing, the magazine went on to declare:

  sufferings do not affect our power to carry on the war, and indignation at the tragedies makes the British people all the more grimly determined that this barbarism must be stamped out of the world. From the military point of view, the Battle of Britain is going well for the enemies of the Axis.

  The magazine had conducted many discussions in past editions about total war, and Douhet’s theorizing. Despite that, it was still looking at the conflict as a joust between military forces. Yet, in the week up to this day, German bombing had killed 1,567 civilians, nearly three times the number of Fighter Command aircrew killed in the entire battle period. Many had been killed in the line of duty. In Streatham, a direct hit on the fire station wrecked two heavy appliances. Twelve firemen were killed and eight injured.

  On page five of the Daily Express, there was a detailed report of the previous day’s debate in the Lords, but nothing of the Earl of Listowel’s complaints. The space was given to the Duke of Devonshire, speaking for the Home Office. Government policy on air-raid shelters was “running more and more strongly in favour of dispersal, in favour of the Anderson shelter, the street brick shelter and the reinforced basement, rather than the large communal shelter which collects too many in one place”.

  “I do not think it indiscreet to say that Mr. Morrison (the new Home Secretary) will come down on the side of dispersal so far as possible – which was the policy of his predecessor in office (Sir John Anderson) – rather than in favour of the policy of concentration”, Devonshire was reported as saying.

  There was another huge “elephant in the room” – the sea war. The German destroyer flotilla based in Brest was out hunting. It was joined by six torpedo boats out of Cherbourg, intent on raiding British shipping at the western exit of the Bristol Channel. Three convoys were in grave danger, although the raiders were sighted by Coastal Command aircraft, shortly after they had left Brest and ships at risk were rerouted. Light cruisers Newcastle and Emerald, with five destroyers, rushed out of Plymouth and after five hours hard steaming they sighted the German force. At a distance, gunfire was exchanged and the Germans turned for home. They were pursued by Blenheim bombers, one of which failed to return. All three crew were killed, the only casualties of the action.

  This action was barely mentioned in the newspapers. The war at sea was rarely given “star treatment”. Yet, the action never ceased. As they had been virtually every day of the war, the convoys were on the move. OB.230 departed Liverpool escorted by destroyers Antelope and Clare, corvettes Anemone, Clematis, Mallow and two anti-submarine trawlers. FN.311 departed Southend, escorted by destroyers Verdun and Watchman, and headed north. Convoy FS.312 at the other end of the chain started its southward journey, escorted by destroyers Wallace and Westminster. Anti-aircraft cruiser Curacoa transferred to convoy SL.49A east of Pentland Firth and escorted it towards Buchanness, then joining convoy EN.10.

  For U-boat commanders, the period July to October was “happy time”. In those four months, 144 unescorted and 73 escorted ships were sunk. The Germans lost only six boats, and only two during attacks on convoys. October was shaping up to be their best month. On this day, U-38 sunk Greek steamer Aemos, a straggler due to bad weather from Convoy SC.7. U-48 attacked Convoy SC.7, sinking British tanker Languedoc, and the steamer Scoresby. It damaged the Haspenden. U-93 attacked convoy OB.228 and sunk a Norwegian and British steamer, killing twelve seamen.

  E-boats also extracted a toll, sinking SS Hauxley in convoy FN.311 and damaging two others. Then there were the mines. The British steamer Frankrig was sunk in the North Sea, the fishing vessel Albatross off Grimsby and the Cheerful off the Faroes. Steamers Ethylene and George Balfour were damaged. Over twenty crewmen were killed. In the air, there had been ten RAF aircraft lost, with twelve to the Luftwaffe.

  DAY 101 – FRIDAY 18 OCTOBER, 2010

  Thirty-five merchantmen making up Convoy SC.7 had been sailing from Nova Scotia since 5 October, headed for Liverpool. Such was the shortage of escorts, only the 1,000ton sloop HMS Scarborough accompanied them, armed with one 4in gun and fifteen depth charges. Leading the convoy was the SS Assyrian, with Vice Admiral Mackinnon acting as convoy Commodore.

  The largest of the ships had been the Admiralty tanker SS Languedor of 9,512 tons – but she had already been sunk. The majority of the remainder were also British registered, but others had their home ports in Norway, Greece, Holland and Sweden. The range of goods carried was typical of that which Britain most needed to import to sustain her: pit props from East Brunswick destined for British coal mines, lumber and grain from the Great Lakes area for the daily bread, steel and ingots from Sydney, iron ore from Newfoundland. A load of important trucks filled the holds of SS Empire Brigand.

  Attacks had started in the early hours of 16 October, when one ship had been lost, but the convoy was joined by the sloop Fowey and corvette Bluebell. Two further escorts had then arrived, the sloop Leith and corvette Heartsease. That night, the convoy came under sustained attack from one of the first “wolfpacks”. Seven submarines coordinated their attacks. The SS Creekirk, with a cargo of iron ore, was hit early on by torpedoes from U-101. She was gone so quickly that none of her thirty-six crew escaped.

  Over Britain, the Luftwaffe was back, its aircrew fortified by an Order of the Day from Göring. He had told them:

  German airmen, comrades! You have, above all in the last few days and nights, caused the British worldenemy disastrous losses by uninterrupted, destructive blows. Your indefatigable, courageous attacks on the heart of the British Empire, the city of London with its 8½ million inhabitants, have reduced British plutocracy to fear and terror. The losses which you have inflicted on the much vaunted Royal Air Force in determined fighter engag
ements are irreplaceable.

  The Luftwaffe “celebrated” with four fighter sweeps over Kent. Some reached the Thames Estuary and London. Approximately 300 fighters were deployed. Twelve aircraft were lost by the Luftwaffe. Fighter Command lost six of its own, including four Hurricanes from No. 302 (Polish) Sqn, after they had run out of fuel.51 Come the night, Birmingham took the strain. The first bomb dropped just after eight in the evening. By the “all clear” at 11.29 p.m., approximately 116 bombs had dropped, 34 of which did not explode. About 107 incidents involved incendiaries, and about 78 fires were started.

  For all that, the total casualties were ten fatalities and eighteen injured. But, over term, Birmingham was the third most heavily bombed UK city of the war, behind London and Liverpool. From 2,000 tons of bombs dropped, 2,241 people were killed, and 3,010 seriously injured. Some 12,391 houses, 302 factories and 239 other buildings were destroyed, with many more damaged. Each time the Brummies dusted themselves off, buried their dead, treated their injured and repaired the damage. Life went on.

  DAY 102 – SATURDAY 19 OCTOBER 1940

 

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