It would be wrong to say that stubborn or naked ambition drove Chamberlain’s attempts to stay on as leader. He had real reservations about Churchill. Like many of his colleagues and almost all of those who remained open to the idea of peace talks with Hitler – and these made for a powerful cabal which included Halifax – the very idea of Winston in charge was chilling. Winston as supreme leader? Winston Churchill in charge of everything? The 65-year-old word-spinner with a drinking problem and a decades-long history of misjudgement leading the country? Forget the country, you could forgive yourself for having reservations about lending such a man bicycle.
Chamberlain, in his last acts of resistance, was not thinking just of himself. He represented many powerful voices who felt that Britain needed, perhaps more than ever before, stable, sober, rational, calm, unexcitable leadership. Whatever you thought of Winston, you could not describe him thus. Churchill, willing in his bombast to commit legions of flesh-and-blood armies against terrible odds as though they were his own childhood lead soldiers, and with quatrains of heroic poetry ringing in his head, was surely capable of inflicting speedy ruin upon the entire nation.
In May 1940 the mere notion of Churchill as leader had many among even his most ardent fans quaking with apprehension. So when Chamberlain spoke with Kingsley Wood following the War Cabinet meeting, he had reason to hope for a last-minute show of support from friends who, if they would not acknowledge his strengths, must at least concede the weaknesses of his rival.
Highly unlikely. It was all too late. Britain needed a National Government, and the price of one, exacted by Labour, was nothing less than Chamberlain’s head.
Kingsley Wood, cast as the messenger in this drama, thought it kinder to be cruel and delivered the blunt news that, ‘on the contrary, the new crisis made it all the more necessary to have a National Government, which alone could confront it’. Hearing this from a man whom most viewed as his protégé, Chamberlain finally acquiesced.
The German Panzer divisions were making swift progress across the lowlands of Belgium, Luxembourg and Holland, with France in their sights, when the War Cabinet met for a second time at 11.30 a.m. and learned of the first casualties of German bombing at Nancy in France. But the information to hand was meagre and uncertain. Ironside informed the Cabinet that it was suspected the Germans planned to cross through Luxembourg and the Ardennes forest to the Belgian defensive line at the River Meuse, while also pushing an advance through Belgium towards Allied forces along the Albert Canal. In fact the Germans had already advanced much further than the Allies suspected, but, as Philip Warner explains in his book The Battle of France, Belgium’s neutral status meant its troops had been unprepared and untrained for invasion ‘along the Meuse [and] were so surprised by the arrival of the German gliders that at first they thought they were aircraft in difficulties; their first reaction was to help what they imagined were airmen in trouble’.
A second Defence Committee meeting was held back at the Admiralty at 1 p.m. to discuss the bombing strategy of targeting ‘open towns in Belgium’, with Churchill ‘in the chair’ once more. In response to the Belgian appeal for help from the Allies, General Sir Hastings Ismay, a staunch ally of Churchill, recalled how when the Supreme War Council had met in November 1939, it had decided that ‘in the event of a German violation of Belgian territory, the plan known as Plan D would automatically be put into operation. This meant that without any further instructions the British Expeditionary Force [over 394,000 British Army men who had been deployed to France since the outbreak of war in September 1939] would very soon be on the move at top speed into Belgium.’ Now such an hour was upon them, and the minutes of the meeting recorded ‘that if the accumulated evidence went to show that the Germans had “taken off the gloves”, the British Government were inclined to commence [bombing] attacks tonight, on oil refineries and marshalling yards in Germany’.
Churchill’s marathon day continued, and after a brief lunch with his trusted friend Lord Beaverbrook he was back at No. 10 for a third War Cabinet meeting at 4.30 p.m. There a report by the Joint Intelligence Sub-Committee was presented detailing the latest German bombing targets in Holland, Belgium, France and Switzerland, as well as five locations in Kent (the first German bombs on England had been dropped in October 1939 on the East Coast). The previous meeting’s discussion of retaliation attacks on German targets continued. It is here that we see how Winston paid attention to the most microscopic of details, as well as to the opinions of those trusted and experienced men sitting around the Cabinet table. Air Chief Marshal Sir Cyril Newall was in favour of immediate retaliation because the ‘psychological effect of an immediate blow at the enemy’s most vulnerable spot would be very great throughout the world’; he was supported by the Secretary of State for Air, Sir Samuel Hoare, who stated: ‘If we did not strike Germany hard and immediately, world opinion would be very critical of us. There were a great number of instances in history of the postponement of a decision leading to its never being taken.’ Despite the strong case put forward by the Air Force, Ironside was against, citing the view of Lord Gort, Commander-in-Chief of the BEF, that such an attack ‘would have no effect on the land battle’. Hoare’s comment about ‘instances in history’ must have rung in Churchill’s ears like the bells of Big Ben, for he more than anyone understood what calamity could result from impetuous military actions, and so sided with a twenty-four-hour delay. The minutes then state that Chamberlain, ‘after hearing the arguments . . . was in favour of postponing an attack . . . at any rate for 24 hours’.
As the meeting drew to a close, the Prime Minister announced that he had now received an answer from the Labour Party on the issue of a National Government. Its statement read: ‘The Labour Party are prepared to take their share of responsibility as a full partner in a new Government, under a new Prime Minister, which would command the confidence of the nation.’ Chamberlain confirmed that ‘in the light of this answer, he had reached the conclusion that the right course was that he should at once tender his resignation to The King. He proposed to do so that evening.’ But despite everything that had transpired that day, he still could not bring himself to admit to the nineteen men around the table that the person he did not want to take power would now be taking the reins.
With the meeting adjourned, members of the War Cabinet returned to their respective offices as word of Labour’s decision spread throughout the Conservative Party. One last desperate attempt to persuade Halifax to reconsider was made by a Tory Whip, but when he arrived at the Foreign Office he discovered that Halifax had gone to the dentist. Andrew Roberts notes in his biography of Halifax: ‘Although [he] did have to see the dentist twice in two months in late 1939, he would hardly have left the Foreign Office if he had been at all amenable to these last-minute approaches.’
Chamberlain left for Buckingham Palace shortly after the War Cabinet meeting concluded. He met with King George VI to officially resign his seal of office and advise him who to send for to take his place. It was not the name His Majesty had hoped to hear. The King recalled in his diary:
How grossly unfairly I thought he had been treated, & that I was terribly sorry that all this controversy had happened. We then had an informal talk over his successor. I, of course, suggested Halifax, but he told me that H was not enthusiastic, as being in the Lords he could only act as a shadow or a ghost in the Commons, where all the real work took place. I was disappointed over his statement, as I thought H was the obvious man, & that his peerage could be placed in abeyance for the time being. Then I knew that there was only one person whom I could send for to form a Government who had the confidence of the country, & that was Winston. I asked Chamberlain his advice, & he told me Winston was the man to send for.
The King offering temporarily to suspend a peerage so that Halifax could become Prime Minister? Constitutionally, this was an extraordinary means of getting the man he wanted. Chamberlain’s staff at No. 10, whom Churchill would soon inherit, were as dismayed as His Majest
y about the implications of events unfolding at the Palace. Jock Colville, Chamberlain’s PPS, wrote in his diary:
It is a terrible risk, it involves the danger of rash and spectacular exploits, and I cannot help fearing that this country may be manoeuvred into the most dangerous position it has ever been . . . Nothing can stop him [Churchill] having his way – because of his powers of blackmail – unless the King makes full use of his prerogative and sends for another man; unfortunately there is only one other, the unpersuadable Halifax.
Everybody here is in despair at the prospect.
The weight of these opinions must have been agony for Churchill. No amount of self-confidence could prevent him from feeling deeply the doubts of others. Could he ever escape his past failures, the lost lives people blamed him for, and achieve the glory that had eluded him? Strip away all of his bravado and we are left with an ageing man with an already full career behind him, now presented with a last opportunity to succeed where previously he had failed.
It was in this moment, walking back to Admiralty House from Downing Street, that Churchill’s need for Clemmie’s support and comfort was overwhelming. His daughter Mary recalls: ‘During these tense and anxious days Clementine was away from London [at a funeral]. It was anguishing for her not to be with Winston during these days; and he, sensing that events were moving towards a climax, telephoned, asking her to return as soon as possible.’ She arrived just before he left the Admiralty for the Palace, bolstering his belief that he was the only man who could become Prime Minister.
Shortly before 6 p.m. on 10 May 1940, as Winston was driven along the Mall, he reflected on how ‘the public had not had time to take in what was happening either abroad or at home, and there was no crowd about the Palace gates’. But his growing excitement at assuming the office he had so long dreamed of put him in a somewhat cheeky mood when he met the King. He recalled:
His majesty received me most graciously and bade me sit down. He looked at me searchingly and quizzically for some moments, and then said, ‘I suppose you don’t know why I have sent for you?’ Adopting his mood, I replied, ‘Sir, I simply couldn’t imagine why.’ He laughed and said, ‘I want to ask you to form a Government.’ I said I would certainly do so.
This was a surprisingly good start, considering the views expressed at the King’s earlier meeting with Chamberlain. Churchill, the King noted in his diary, was ‘full of fire & determination to carry out the duties of Prime Minister’. It was fire he needed most, given the magnitude of the task ahead of him – and one he knew he must not fail.
When Churchill stepped out of his car for the first time as the Prime Minister of Great Britain, he turned to his police bodyguard, Detective Inspector W. H. Thompson, and said, ‘God alone knows how great it is. All I hope is that it is not too late. I am very much afraid it is. We can only do our best.’ Tears came into his eyes. As he turned away, he muttered something to himself. Then he set his jaw, and with a look of determination, mastering all emotion, he began to climb the stairs and begin planning his War Cabinet.
Politics really were in Winston’s blood. Even after everything that had happened during the last three days, he knew that without the support of the Conservative Party his time as PM would be very short indeed. His grip on power was fragile. The atmosphere of the House had seen many a Tory get to his feet and scream for Chamberlain’s removal, but that did not mean they were happy with the alternative. The Under-Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, R. A. (‘Rab’) Butler, was said to have remarked, ‘[T]his sudden coup of Winston and his rabble was a serious disaster and an unnecessary one. They [senior Conservatives] had weakly surrendered to a half-breed American.’
It was perhaps with this in mind that Winston sat down at his desk at Admiralty House and wrote to Chamberlain.
My dear Neville,
My first act on coming back from the Palace is to write and tell you how grateful I am to you for promising to stand by me and to aid the country at this extremely grievous and formidable moment. I am under no illusions about what lies ahead, and of the long dangerous defile through which we must march for many months. With your help and counsel and with the support of the great party of which you are Leader, I trust I shall succeed. The example which you have set of self-forgetting dignity and public spirit will govern the action of many and be an inspiration to all.
In these eight months we have worked together I am proud to have won your friendship and your confidence in an increasing measure. To a very large extent I am in your hands – and I feel no fear of that. For the rest I have faith in our cause which I feel sure will not be suffered to fail among men.
I will write to you again tonight after I have seen the Labour Leaders. I am so glad you will broadcast to our anxious people.
Believe me,
Yours ever,
Winston S. Churchill
What a letter to write to the man who had gone out of his way to prevent him from becoming Prime Minister. It could be interpreted in so many ways: genuine, strategic, obsequious, pragmatic, forgiving, and so on. But whatever Winston’s intentions, it was above all the smartest thing to do at that moment. Even if Chamberlain found it maddening, he could hardly criticize such an overture. Lord Halifax too received a letter along similar lines. However, his chimes harder because of Churchill’s fateful comment: ‘It gives me so much pleasure to feel that we shall be fighting this business through together to the end. I feel sure your conduct of Foreign Affairs is an essential element in our war strength. I am so grateful to you for being willing to continue your work in this great office of which you are at once the slave and the master . . . ’ In the space of a few weeks, these words would come back to haunt Churchill as the two men clashed irreconcilably over the most important issue of their lives: peace with Hitler.
In the meantime, Churchill knew that he needed both these men inside his War Cabinet, keeping his friends close and enemies closer. Should even one of them resign, he was in no doubt that it would trigger a general mutiny that would end his premiership when it had barely begun. Chamberlain was to lead the House of Commons as Lord President of the Council, and Lord Halifax was to remain as Foreign Secretary. To complete the line-up, he invited the Labour Party’s Clement Attlee to be Lord Privy Seal and Arthur Greenwood to be Minister Without Portfolio. In doing so, he hoped he could balance out the expected opposition from Chamberlain and Halifax. In The Gathering Storm, Churchill writes how he ‘had known both Attlee and Greenwood for a long time in the House of Commons. During the eleven years before the outbreak of war, I had in my more or less independent position come far more often into collision with the Conservative and National Governments than with the Labour and Liberal Oppositions.’
His thoughts at this juncture seem to have been heavily focused around opposition and from what direction it would come. As we know from his time as First Lord of the Admiralty, Churchill was never able to do just the job he had been given, much to the ire of those around him. Now he decided to solve the problem of wading uninvited into other people’s purviews from the start, and created the position of, and appointed himself, ‘Minister of Defence, without however attempting to define its scope and powers’. This effectively gave him free rein to run the war, as well as the country. With this in mind he made three further key appointments that night: his close ally, Anthony Eden, was to be made Secretary of State for War; the Labour MP A. V. Alexander was made First Lord of the Admiralty; and the Leader of the Liberal Party, Sir Archibald Sinclair, became Secretary of State for Air.
With his War Cabinet complete, Churchill could pause for a moment to read the piles of letters and telegrams that had flooded in, congratulating him on his appointment. At 9 p.m. he turned his attention to the wireless, where Neville Chamberlain began to speak to the nation for the last time:
Early this morning without warning or excuse, Hitler added another to the horrible crimes which already disgrace his name by a sudden attack on Holland, Belgium and Luxembourg. In all histor
y, no other man has been responsible for such a hideous total of human suffering and misery as he. He has chosen a moment when perhaps it seemed to him that this country was entangled in the throes of a political crisis and when he might find it divided against itself. If he has counted on our internal divisions to help him he has miscalculated the mind of this people . . .
Now as this is my last message to you from No. 10 Downing Street, there are one or two things that I should like to say to you. During the period, it’s almost exactly three years, that I have been Prime Minister, I have borne a heavy load of anxiety and responsibility. As long as I believed there was any chance of preserving peace honourably, I strove to take it. When the last hope vanished and war could no longer be avoided, I strove equally hard to wage it with all my might. Perhaps you remember that in my broadcast of September 3, last year, I told you that we should be fighting against evil things. My words have proved to be insufficient to describe the vileness of those who have now staked everything on the great battle just beginning. Perhaps it may at least be some relief to know that this battle, though it may last for days or even weeks, has ended the period of waiting and uncertainty. For the hour has come when we are to be put to the test, as the innocent people of Holland and Belgium and France are being tested already. And you and I must rally behind our new leader, and with our united strength and with unshakable courage, fight and work until this wild beast that has sprung out of his lair upon us, be finally disarmed and overthrown.
Darkest Hour Page 7
