I ended:
“What General Weygand called the Battle of France is over. I expect that the Battle of Britain is about to begin. Upon this battle depends the survival of Christian civilisation. Upon it depends our own British life, and the long continuity of our institutions and our Empire. The whole fury and might of the enemy must very soon be turned on us. Hitler knows that he will have to break us in this Island or lose the war. If we can stand up to him, all Europe may be free and the life of the world may move forward into broad, sunlit uplands. But if we fail, then the whole world, including the United States, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age, made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science. Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say: ‘This was their finest hour.’ ”
All these often-quoted words were made good in the hour of victory. But now they were only words. Foreigners who do not understand the temper of the British race all over the globe when its blood is up might have supposed that they were only a bold front, set up as a good prelude for peace negotiations. Hitler’s need to finish the war in the West was obvious. He was in a position to offer the most tempting terms. To those who like myself had studied his moves it did not seem impossible that he would consent to leave Britain and her Empire and Fleet intact and make a peace which would have secured him that free hand in the East of which Ribbentrop had talked to me in 1937, and which was his heart’s main desire. So far we had not done him much harm. We had indeed only added our own defeat to his triumph over France. Can one wonder that astute calculators in many countries, ignorant as they mostly were of the problems of overseas invasion, and of the quality of our Air Force, and who dwelt under the overwhelming impression of German might and terror, were not convinced? Not every Government called into being by Democracy or by Despotism, and not every nation, while quite alone, and as it seemed abandoned, would have courted the horrors of invasion and disdained a fair chance of peace for which many plausible excuses could be presented. Rhetoric was no guarantee. Another administration might come into being. “The war-mongers have had their chance and failed.” America had stood aloof. No one was under any obligation to Soviet Russia. Why should not Britain join the spectators who in Japan and in the United States, in Sweden, and in Spain, might watch with detached interest, or even relish, a mutually destructive struggle between the Nazi and Communist Empires? Future generations will find it hard to believe that the issues I have summarised here were never thought worth a place upon the Cabinet agenda, or even mentioned in our most private conclaves. Doubts could be swept away only by deeds. The deeds were to come.
In the closing days at Bordeaux Admiral Darlan became very important. My contacts with him had been few and formal. I respected him for the work he had done in re-creating the French Navy, which after ten years of his professional control was more efficient than at any time since the French Revolution. When in December 1939 he had visited England we gave him an official dinner at the Admiralty. In response to the toast, he began by reminding us that his great-grandfather had been killed at the Battle of Trafalgar. I therefore thought of him as one of those good Frenchmen who hate England. Anglo-French naval discussions in January had also shown how very jealous the Admiral was of his professional position in relation to whoever was the political Minister of Marine. This had become a positive obsession, and, I believe, played a definite part in his action.
For the rest, Darlan had been present at most of the conferences which I have described, and as the end of the French resistance approached he had repeatedly assured me that whatever happened the French Fleet should never fall into German hands. Now at Bordeaux came the fateful moment in the career of this ambitious, self-seeking, and capable Admiral. His authority over the Fleet was for all practical purposes absolute. He had only to order the ships to British, American, or French colonial harbours—some had already started—to be obeyed. In the morning of June 17, after the fall of M. Reynaud’s Cabinet, he declared to General Georges that he was resolved to give the order. The next day Georges met him in the afternoon and asked him what had happened. Darlan replied that he had changed his mind. When asked why, he answered simply: “I am now Minister of Marine.” This did not mean that he had changed his mind in order to become Minister of Marine, but that being Minister of Marine he had a different point of view.
How vain are human calculations of self-interest! Rarely has there been a more convincing example. Darlan had but to sail in any one of his ships to any port outside France to become the master of all French interests beyond German control. He would not have come, like General de Gaulle, with only an unconquerable heart and a few kindred spirits. He would have carried with him outside the German reach the fourth Navy in the world, whose officers and men were personally devoted to him. Acting thus, Darlan would have become the chief of the French Resistance with a mighty weapon in his hand. British and American dockyards and arsenals would have been at his disposal for the maintenance of his fleet. The French gold reserve in the United States would have assured him, once recognised, of ample resources. The whole French Empire would have rallied to him. Nothing could have prevented him from being the Liberator of France. The fame and power which he so ardently desired were in his grasp. Instead, he went forward through two years of worrying and ignominious office to a violent death, a dishonoured grave, and a name long to be execrated by the French Navy and the nation he had hitherto served so well.
There is a final note which should be struck at this point. In a letter which Darlan wrote to me on December 4, 1942, just three weeks before his assassination, he vehemently claimed that he had kept his word. This letter states his case and has been printed by me elsewhere.* It cannot be disputed that no French ship was ever manned by the Germans or used against us by them in the war. This was not entirely due to Admiral Darlan’s measures; but he had certainly built up in the minds of the officers and men of the French Navy that at all costs their ships should be destroyed before being seized by the Germans, whom he disliked as much as he did the English.
But in June, 1940, the addition of the French Navy to the German and Italian Fleets, with the menace of Japan measureless upon the horizon, confronted Great Britain with mortal dangers and gravely affected the safety of the United States. Article 8 of the Armistice prescribed that the French Fleet, except that part left free for safeguarding French colonial interests, “shall be collected in ports to be specified and there demobilised and disarmed under German or Italian control”. It was therefore clear that the French war vessels would pass into that control while fully armed. It was true that in the same article the German Government solemnly declared that they had no intention of using them for their own purposes during the war. But who in his senses would trust the word of Hitler after his shameful record and the facts of the hour? Furthermore, the article excepted from this assurance “those units necessary for coast surveillance and mine-sweeping”. The interpretation of this lay with the Germans. Finally, the Armistice could at any time be voided on any pretext of non-observance. There was in fact no security for us at all. At all costs, at all risks, in one way or another, we must make sure that the Navy of France did not fall into wrong hands, and then perhaps bring us and others to ruin.
The War Cabinet never hesitated. Those Ministers who, the week before, had given their whole hearts to France and offered common nationhood resolved that all necessary measures should be taken. This was a hateful decision, the most unnatural and painful in which I have ever been concerned. It recalled the episode of the seizure by the Royal Navy of the Danish fleet at Copenhagen in 1807; but now the French had been only yesterday our dear Allies, and our sympathy for the misery of France was sincere. On the other hand, the life of the State and the salvation of our cause were at stake. It was Greek tragedy. But no act was ever more necessary for the l
ife of Britain and for all that depended upon it. I thought of Danton in 1793: “The coalesced Kings threaten us, and we hurl at their feet as a gage of battle the head of a King.” The whole event was in this order of ideas.
The French Navy was disposed in the following manner: Two battleships, four light cruisers (or contre-torpilleurs), some submarines, including a very large one, the Surcouf, eight destroyers, and about two hundred smaller but valuable mine-sweeping and anti-submarine craft lay for the most part at Portsmouth and Plymouth. These were in our power. At Alexandria there were a French battleship, four French cruisers, three of them modern 8-inch-gun cruisers, and a number of smaller ships. These were covered by a strong British battle squadron. At Oran, at the other end of the Mediterranean, and at its adjacent military port of Mers-el-Kebir, were two of the finest vessels of the French fleet, the Dunkerque and the Strasbourg, modern battle-cruisers much superior to the Scharnhorst and Gneisenau, and built for the express purpose of being superior to them. These vessels in German hands on our trade routes would have been most disagreeable. With them were two French battleships, several light cruisers, and a number of destroyers, submarines, and other vessels. At Algiers were seven cruisers, of which four were 8-inch armed, and at Martinique an aircraft-carrier and two light cruisers. At Casablanca lay the Jean Bart, newly arrived from St. Nazaire, but without her guns. This was one of the key ships in the computation of world naval strength. She was unfinished, and could not be finished at Casablanca. She must not go elsewhere. The Richelieu, which was far nearer completion, had reached Dakar. She could steam, and her 15-inch guns could fire. There were many other French ships of minor importance in various ports. Finally, at Toulon a number of warships were beyond our reach. Operation “Catapult” comprised the simultaneous seizure, control, or effective disablement or destruction of all the accessible French Fleet.
In the early morning of July 3 all the French vessels at Portsmouth and Plymouth were taken under British control. The action was sudden and necessarily a surprise. Overwhelming force was employed, and the whole transaction showed how easily the Germans could have taken possession of any French warships lying in ports which they controlled. In Britain the transfer, except in the Surcouf, was amicable, and the crews came willingly ashore. In the Surcouf two gallant British officers and a leading seaman were killed,* and another seaman wounded. One French seaman also was killed, but many hundreds volunteered to join us. The Surcouf, after rendering distinguished service, perished on February 19, 1942, with all her gallant French crew.
The deadly stroke was in the Western Mediterranean. Here, at Gibraltar, Vice-Admiral Somerville with “Force H”, consisting of the battle-cruiser Hood, the battleships Valiant and Resolution, the aircraft-carrier Ark Royal, two cruisers, and eleven destroyers, received orders sent from the Admiralty at 2.25 a.m. on July 1:
Be prepared for “Catapult” July 3.
Among Somerville’s officers was Captain Holland, a gallant and distinguished officer, lately Naval Attaché in Paris and with keen French sympathies, who was influential. In the early afternoon of July 1 the Vice-Admiral telegraphed:
After talk with Holland and others Vice-Admiral “Force H” is impressed with their view that the use of force should be avoided at all costs. Holland considers offensive action on our part would alienate all French wherever they are.
To this the Admiralty replied at 6.20 p.m.:
Firm intention of His Majesty’s Government that if French will not accept any of your alternatives they are to be destroyed.
Shortly after midnight (1.08 a.m., July 2) Admiral Somerville was sent a carefully conceived communication to be made to the French admiral. The crucial portion was as follows:
(a) Sail with us and continue to fight for victory against the Germans and Italians.
(b) Sail with reduced crews under our control to a British port. The reduced crews will be repatriated at the earliest moment.
If either of these courses is adopted by you, we will restore your ships to France at the conclusion of the war, or pay full compensation if they are damaged meanwhile.
(c) Alternatively, if you feel bound to stipulate that your ships should not be used against the Germans or Italians unless these break the Armistice, then sail them with us with reduced crews to some French port in the West Indies—Martinique, for instance—where they can be demilitarised to our satisfaction, or perhaps be entrusted to the United States and remain safe until the end of the war, the crews being repatriated.
If you refuse these fair offers, I must, with profound regret, require you to sink your ships within six hours.
Finally, failing the above, I have the orders of His Majesty’s Government to use whatever force may be necessary to prevent your ships from falling into German or Italian hands.
The Admiral sailed at daylight and was off Oran at about nine-thirty. He sent Captain Holland himself in a destroyer to wait upon the French Admiral Gensoul. After being refused an interview Holland sent by messengers the document already quoted. Admiral Gensoul replied in writing, that in no case would the French warships be allowed to fall intact into German and Italian hands, and that force would be met with force.
All day negotiations continued. At 4.15 p.m. Captain Holland was at last permitted to board the Dunkerque, but the ensuing meeting with the French Admiral was frigid. Admiral Gensoul had meanwhile sent two messages to the French Admiralty, and at 3 p.m. the French Council of Ministers had met to consider the British terms. General Weygand was present at this meeting, and what transpired has now been recorded by his biographer. From this it seems that the third alternative, namely, the removal of the French Fleet to the West Indies, was never mentioned. He states, “ … It would appear that Admiral Darlan, whether deliberately or not, or whether he was aware of them or not, I do not know, did not in fact inform us of all the details of the matter at the time. It now appears that the terms of the British ultimatum were less crude than we were led to believe, and suggested a third and far more acceptable alternative, namely, the departure of the Fleet for West Indian waters.”* No explanation of this omission, if it were an omission, has so far been seen.†
The distress of the British Admiral and his principal officers was evident to us from the signals which had passed. Nothing but the most direct orders compelled them to open fire on those who had been so lately their comrades. At the Admiralty also there was manifest emotion. But there was no weakening in the resolve of the War Cabinet. I sat all the afternoon in the Cabinet Room in frequent contact with my principal colleagues and the First Lord and First Sea Lord. A final signal was dispatched at 6.26 p.m.:
French ships must comply with our terms or sink themselves or be sunk by you before dark.
But the action had already begun. At 5.54 p.m. Admiral Somerville opened fire upon this powerful French fleet, which was also protected by its shore batteries. At 6.0 p.m. he reported that he was heavily engaged. The bombardment lasted for some ten minutes. The battleship Bretagne was blown up. The Dunkerque ran aground. The battleship Provence was beached. The Strasbourg escaped, and, though attacked by torpedo aircraft from the Ark Royal, reached Toulon, as did also the cruisers from Algiers.
At Alexandria, after protracted negotiations with Admiral Cunningham, the French Admiral Godefroy agreed to discharge his oil fuel, to remove important parts of his gun-mechanisms, and to repatriate some of his crews. At Dakar on July 8 an attack was made on the battleship Richelieu by the aircraft-carrier Hermes, and most gallantly by a motor-boat. The Richelieu was hit by an air torpedo and seriously damaged. The French aircraft-carrier and two light cruisers in the French West Indies were immobilised after long-drawn-out discussions under an agreement with the United States.
On July 4 I reported at length to the House of Commons what we had done. Although the battle-cruiser Strasbourg had escaped from Oran and the effective disablement of the Richelieu had not then been reported, the measures we had taken had removed the French Navy from major German calcul
ations. I spoke for an hour or more that afternoon, and gave a detailed account of all these sombre events as they were known to me. I have nothing to add to the account which I then gave to Parliament and to the world. I thought it better, for the sake of proportion, to end upon a note which placed this mournful episode in true relation with the plight in which we stood. I therefore read to the House the admonition which I had, with Cabinet approval, circulated through the inner circles of the governing machine the day before:
On what may be the eve of an attempted invasion or battle for our native land, the Prime Minister desires to impress upon all persons holding responsible positions in the Government, in the Fighting Services, or in the Civil departments their duty to maintain a spirit of alert and confident energy. While every precaution must be taken that time and means afford, there are no grounds for supposing that more German troops can be landed in this country, either from the air or across the sea, than can be destroyed or captured by the strong forces at present under arms. The Royal Air Force is in excellent order and at the highest strength yet attained. The German Navy was never so weak nor the British Army at home so strong as now. The Prime Minister expects all His Majesty’s servants in high places to set an example of steadiness and resolution. They should check and rebuke the expression of loose and ill-digested opinions in their circles, or by their subordinates. They should not hesitate to report, or if necessary remove, any persons, officers, or officials who are found to be consciously exercising a disturbing or depressing influence, and whose talk is calculated to spread alarm and despondency. Thus alone will they be worthy of the fighting men who, in the air, on the sea, and on land, have already met the enemy without any sense of being outmatched in martial qualities.
The Second World War Page 42
