Darkest Hour

by Anthony McCarten

  On record, then, came the first suggestion of a peace deal with Nazi Germany. That it would be entertained only with France’s participation does not detract from the magnitude of such a suggestion. Unlike his 13 May address, there was no talk of ‘victory at all costs’, no argument that survival was impossible without victory. If there was one word to sum up this exchange, it was not victory, but defeat.

  Having been assured that Weygand’s plan would be executed first thing that morning, Churchill was shocked to discover when he returned to Downing Street that ‘the Germans were already in Boulogne, Gort’s attack southwards to Arras had made no progress, the British Expeditionary Force had been forced through lack of supplies to go on half rations, and Weygand’s northward offensive had not yet begun’.

  Calls were made to Reynaud and eventually to Weygand himself at 6 p.m. He reassured the Prime Minister that his plan had begun and his forces had successfully recaptured three French towns. We now know that this information was false, but as Colville later wrote, ‘there was no reason to doubt Weygand’s report, and gloom gave way to elation’. As Churchill’s biographer Martin Gilbert notes, ‘[T]he reason for Weygand’s deception has been a matter of considerable concern to those who were involved in the crisis of May 23, or who witnessed it at the time. Colville, who was at Downing Street throughout that day . . . later reflected: “Weygand was determined, if the BEF could not go southward [to aid French forces], that we should go under if they did.”’

  The elation must have been short-lived. When Churchill sat down at the 7 p.m. War Cabinet, he admitted – after many moments of valuable indecision on his own part – that he had ‘been giving further consideration’ to the concerns raised by Neville Chamberlain at their last meeting. In a sign that this bulldog was capable of changing his mind, even as he wished to stamp his authority on a War Cabinet so full of doubters, he conceded that it was perhaps time for the ‘BEF to fall back on the Channel Ports’ and an evacuation should be attempted. The situation in Boulogne was now described as ‘catastrophic’, but ‘General Weygand had demanded that the operation should continue’. General Ironside agreed that Lord Gort’s attack southwards should carry on as requested by the French, for ‘if the BEF were to retire on the Channel ports, it was unlikely that more than a small part of the force should be got away’. Churchill concluded that ‘there was as yet little ground for confidence. He felt, however, that we had no choice in the matter but to do our best to conform to General Weygand’s plan.’

  The choices facing Winston and Britain were stark and binary: continue with a failing plan, or attempt a perilous evacuation that would save only a fraction of the British Expeditionary Force. In a black mood, the Prime Minister travelled to Buckingham Palace to inform the King of the situation.

  In his diary, King George VI wrote:

  The Prime Minister came at 10.30 p.m. He told me that if the French plan made out by Weygand did not come off, he would have to order the BEF back to England. This operation would mean the loss of all guns, tanks, ammunition, & all stores in France. The question was whether we could get the troops back from Calais and Dunkirk. The very thought of having to order this movement is appalling, as the loss of life will probably be immense.

  Churchill would later quip, ‘War is usually a catalogue of blunders and this one is proving no exception’, but his mood did not allow for jest as he returned to the Admiralty to be updated with yet more grim news of the chaotic Weygand plan. He sent quick messages to General Weygand and Paul Reynaud, warning them that Belgian headquarters had still ‘received no directive’ and Lord Gort had ‘no (repeat no) ammunition for a serious attack’. Churchill made his irritation plain: ‘We have not here even seen your own directive, and have no knowledge of the details of your northern operations. Will you kindly have this sent through French Mission at earliest?’ He noted that ‘time is vital as supplies are short’.

  As the night wore on, 1,000 British soldiers were evacuated from Boulogne during a relentless German attack, but 200 were left behind.

  Just over twenty miles up the coast, Brigadier Claude Nicholson and his garrison at Calais were facing constantly conflicting orders. What had become clear was that if Boulogne fell, the defence of Calais was essential to keep the Germans from reaching Dunkirk. The roads out of the town were now blocked and Calais was completely surrounded. As the soldiers looked east towards Dunkirk, bonfires had been lit by the German soldiers of 1 Panzer Division as a signal to the approaching Luftwaffe planes.

  At the following day’s War Cabinet meeting on 24 May, Lord Halifax began to make his presence felt, mapping out a route whereby diplomacy might at least keep Italy out of the fray.

  Sensing an opportunity to subtly advance this aspect of his peace agenda – part one of his grand design to reach a general pan-European peace deal – he read a telegram from the British Ambassador in Paris, outlining a request from the French Government that:

  President Roosevelt should be asked to make another approach to Signor Mussolini . . . to ask what his reasons are for being on the brink of entering the war against the Allies. If Signor Mussolini recited his grievances, the United States Ambassador in Rome would then say that the President would be prepared to communicate the Italian claims to the Allied Governments or some other words which would at least have a delaying action.

  Halifax’s opinion was that not much would come of it, but that Britain should:

  reply that we fully endorse the suggestion of another approach by President Roosevelt . . . provided it was quite clear that President Roosevelt were acting on his own responsibility . . . The Allies were ready to consider reasonable Italian claims at the end of the war, and would welcome Italy at a Peace Conference on equal terms with the belligerents, and that the United States were willing to guarantee that the Allies should carry out these undertakings so long as Italy and the United States of America did not become engaged in the war on opposite sides.

  So assuredly did Halifax present his argument that the War Cabinet, without debate, agreed ‘that a reply should be made on these lines’.

  Chalk one up for Halifax.

  As the situation in France worsened, and the direct danger to Britain increased, the pressure on the Prime Minister began to take its toll physically. By noon, he had returned to his bed on the advice of his doctor. But he proved a poor patient. From his bed Churchill learned that an evacuation of Calais had been proposed by General Ismay. Brigadier Nicholson telegraphed at 2 a.m. to confirm this. Even though the proposal was cancelled three hours after it was sent, Churchill – still awake and blowing steam about the idea – wrote to Ismay to complain: ‘The only effect of evacuating Calais would be to transfer the [enemy] forces now blocking it to Dunkirk. Calais must be held for many reasons, but specifically to hold the enemy on its front.’

  Even though ill and abed, Churchill was sketching out in his head the first outlines of a desperate rescue plan – and having the garrison at Calais fight on to the death, inviting the enemy’s wrath and drawing their attention away from Dunkirk, was becoming a critical part of it. The only question was: how much longer could Calais perform this function?

  Later that day, when the Defence Committee met at 5 p.m., General Ironside informed the room that ‘German tanks had penetrated past the forts on the west side of Calais and had got between the town and the sea’. Despite this news, the troops at Calais were to remain and fight off the approaching German advances, in order that they might buy the Allies in Dunkirk more time.

  Nicholson was still hoping for an evacuation and, unaware of this decision, gallantly continued to attempt to defend the town, but his men were forced to retreat to the citadel located within the Old Town walls. He telegraphed a last-ditch message at 7.05 p.m.: ‘Reinforcements urgent if whole garrison be not overwhelmed.’ He received a reply at 11.23 p.m. telling him that no evacuation had yet been ordered. ‘You must comply for the sake of Allied solidarity. Your role is therefore to hold on . . . No reinforcements
. . . You will select best position and fight on.’ General Ironside sent a separate message, telling Nicholson that the evacuation had been forbidden and that his were ‘all regular troops, and I need not say more’.

  All we know of Nicholson’s reaction to this message is that he immediately told his staff to burn his remaining tanks.

  When Churchill learned of these messages he was furious. To his mind, these were not words that would motivate someone to make the ultimate sacrifice. The following day he wrote to Anthony Eden and General Ironside: ‘Pray find out . . . by whom was this very lukewarm telegram I saw this morning drafted, in which mention is made of “for the sake of Allied solidarity.” This is not the way to encourage men to fight to the end.’ Knowing he could withhold this decision no longer, Churchill drafted a response, which Eden sent just after 1.50 p.m. on 25 May:

  To Brigadier Nicholson. Defence of Calais to the utmost is of the highest importance to our country as symbolising our continued cooperation with France. The eyes of the Empire are upon the defence of Calais, and H.M. Government are confident you and your gallant regiments will perform an exploit worthy of the British name.

  That was how you did it – no paltry talk of compliance, or of holding on. Rather, make these doomed men aware that this was their chance to go down in history, to – paraphrasing Shakespeare – make their names as familiar in the mouths of Britons as household words.

  In London, Churchill had received a telegram from Paul Reynaud informing him that the British Army was no longer conforming to General Weygand’s plan and had withdrawn towards the Channel ports. Without the British attacking southwards, the road to Dunkirk was now wide open. The prospect of a full retreat and evacuation now looked certain, so Lord Halifax – ready to intensify the pressure on Winston – returned to the French suggestion of a proposed approach to Mussolini.

  For the pacifists in the Tory Party, and there were many – more each day, in fact, who were keen to preserve their ancestral country estates and British autonomy, even if the ultimate price was Central and Western Europe – the idea of an approach to Mussolini, asking him to name his terms to stay out of the war and also to broker future negotiations with Hitler, was a viable, welcome and entirely rational plan. It certainly made a lot more sense than fighting on, if this meant, as looked likely, the loss of almost all of Britain’s professional army.

  With this in mind, and confident of widespread support for his case, Halifax informed the War Cabinet on 25 May that a meeting had taken place at the Italian Embassy in London, where it was said that:

  [an] Italian diplomat, alleging that he was speaking without instructions, had said that there are still a great many influential people in Italy who desired to see a peaceful solution of the Mediterranean problem. If His Majesty’s Government saw their way to make an approach to the Italian Government, with a view to exploring the possibilities of a friendly settlement, there need be no fear of their meeting with a rebuff.

  Halifax again expressed his belief that ‘very likely nothing might come of all this. Nevertheless, even if the result were merely to gain time, it would be valuable. The French would certainly be pleased with such a move on the part of His Majesty’s Government, which was in line with their own policy.’

  In his reply to Churchill one week earlier, Mussolini had entirely dismissed the prospect of peaceful negotiations with the Allies: ‘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 today and tomorrow in the face of any event whatsoever.’ But with France now teetering on the brink of collapse and the desperate rush to evacuate the BEF, Churchill agreed ‘to an approach of the character suggested’, but stressed that ‘it must not, of course, be accompanied by any publicity, since that would amount to a confession of weakness’. He remained deeply suspicious of the Italian leader and suspected that ‘it was very probable that at any moment Signor Mussolini might put very strong pressure on the French, with a view to obtaining concessions from them. The fact that the French were denuding their Italian frontier of troops put them in a very weak bargaining position.’

  The British people would have been horrified to know that their leaders were exploring peace terms with a fascist dictator, but the fact was they were kept almost entirely in the dark about the terrible progress of the war. As Sir Alexander Cadogan, Halifax’s right-hand man at the Foreign Office, noted in his diary: ‘the public don’t grasp the situation at all’. Newspapers from the time show something of the gulf between what was reported and the reality on the ground. On 25 May, for example, the Manchester Guardian published an advertisement for a weekend away in the French capital:

  STAY IN PARIS: NEAR THE OPERA AND GRAND

  BOULEVARD . . . SPECIAL RATES FOR MEMBERS

  OF THE ALLIED FORCES

  On 26 May, two days after Boulogne had fallen, in the News of the World:

  ALLIES POUNDING GERMANS NEAR

  CHANNEL COAST – FRENCH SAY, ‘BOULOGNE

  STILL IN OUR HANDS’; CALAIS BEING

  STRONGLY DEFENDED

  On the same day, in the Sunday Express:

  FRANCE SACKS 15 GENERALS – COMMUNIQUE

  DECLARES ‘WE HAVE DOMINATED THE ENEMY’

  And in the People:

  NAZIS CLAIM ALLIED ARMIES ARE RINGED IN

  FLANDERS, BUT PARIS REPORTS RECAPTURE OF

  AMIENS, AND ENORMOUS ENEMY LOSSES

  On 27 May, a day after Calais had fallen, in the Daily Mail:

  NAVY GOES INTO ACTION SHELLING GERMAN

  TROOPS ACROSS BOULOGNE – CITADEL HELD IN

  STREET BATTLE – CALAIS AND DUNKIRK ARE

  FIRMLY IN ALLIED HANDS

  CALAIS IS HELD: NAVY SHELLS ENEMY

  In the Evening Standard:

  ‘ENORMOUS’ GERMAN LOSSES IN VIOLENT

  FIGHTING AT MENIN – CALAIS STILL

  HELD TO-DAY

  In the Daily Express:

  FIGHTING IN THE STREETS OF CALAIS – NAVY

  SHELLS SMASH GERMAN ARMOURED DIVISIONS

  As dawn broke on 26 May, the news from France dominated Churchill’s thoughts, and those of his advisers and staff. The road to Dunkirk lay open to both British and German troops. As Churchill himself described it, ‘the march to the sea’ had begun.

  Paul Reynaud was on his way to London for crisis talks with Churchill, who informed the 9 a.m. meeting of the War Cabinet that they should:

  be prepared for M. Reynaud in his interview that day to say that the French could not carry on the fight. He would make every endeavour to induce M. Reynaud to carry on, and that he would point out that they were at least honour bound required to provide, as far as lay in their power, for the safe withdrawal of the British Expeditionary Force.

  Lord Halifax could no longer stay silent. Ever more sure of his opinions, he told the Cabinet in no uncertain terms that ‘we had to face the fact that it was not so much now a question of imposing a complete defeat upon Germany but of safeguarding the independence of our own Empire’. To continue with Churchill’s crusade of ‘victory at all costs’ now seemed ludicrous. His message was blunt: We are losing the war, and if we have an opportunity to prevent losing more young lives, how can we not take it?

  Driving home his advantage, he informed the Cabinet that he had met the Italian Ambassador, Signor Giuseppe Bastianini, the previous evening and had been informed that ‘Mussolini’s principal wish was to secure peace in Europe’. Halifax had replied that this was an objective Britain desired too, and ‘we should naturally be prepared to consider any proposals which might lead to this, provided our liberty and independence were assured’. This representation of the British Government’s stance in respect of Italy was far in advance even of Churchill’s most forward position concerning a negotiated peace with Hitler. Now, clearly fused in Halifax’s mind and in his language were both the smaller idea of keeping Italy out of th
e war and the bigger one of getting Hitler to lay down his guns. Hence-forward, for Halifax, all approaches to Italy would be synonymous with the solution he called (to Bastianini) the ‘general European settlement’, wherein Italy would be offered nothing unless it was tied to this wider deal.

  Churchill too now understood that his approval of any formal approach to Italy meant sending Britain down a slippery slope that would lead down, down, down towards peace talks with Berlin. He replied to Halifax, ‘[P]eace and security might be achieved under a German domination of Europe. That we could never accept. We must ensure our complete liberty and independence. [I am] opposed to any negotiations which might lead to a derogation of our rights and power.’

  Halifax had repeatedly pointed out that there was no question of accepting such a derogation, and added now that if France and Britain presented a united front at such a negotiation, then this would be ‘a powerful lever to obtain favourable terms which might be of great value to us . . . If the French intended to come to [peace] terms, they had a very strong card to play if they made it clear to Hitler that they were bound not to make a separate peace.’

  Winston, who believed that separate deals were more likely to be offered, replied that ‘the Germans would make the terms of any peace offer as attractive as possible to the French, and lay emphasis on the fact that their quarrel was not with France but with England’.

  The Chiefs of Staff had prepared a paper outlining possible outcomes if France did surrender. It made for bleak reading. The paper, Halifax pointed out, said that ‘our ability to carry on the war single-handed against Germany would depend in the main on our being able to establish and maintain air superiority over the Germans’. However, if the Germans now had control of the French Army, they would not need to plough all their resources into a European land battle and ‘would be then free to switch the bulk of their effort to air production’. This was a terrifying thought, and a strong argument for suing for peace immediately. The Luftwaffe already had considerable air superiority. Should it get any stronger, the RAF would be powerless to oppose it. Peace talks or no, Halifax suggested that as a ‘last resort we should ask the French to put their [aircraft] factories out of gear’.