I next turned to Lord Halifax, whose prestige in the Conservative Party stood high, and was enhanced by his being at the Foreign Office. For a Foreign Secretary to become an Ambassador marks in a unique manner the importance of the mission. His high character was everywhere respected, yet at the same time his record in the years before the war and the way in which events had moved left him exposed to much disapprobation and even hostility from the Labour side of our National Coalition. I knew that he was conscious of this himself.
When I made him this proposal, which was certainly not a personal advancement, he contented himself with saying in a simple and dignified manner that he would serve wherever he was thought to be most useful. In order to emphasise still further the importance of his duties, I arranged that he should resume his function as a member of the War Cabinet whenever he came home on leave. This arrangement worked without the slightest inconvenience, owing to the qualities and experience of the personalities involved, and for six years thereafter, both under the National Coalition and the Labour-Socialist Government, Halifax discharged the work of Ambassador to the United States with conspicuous and ever-growing influence and success.
President Roosevelt, Mr. Hull, and other high personalities in Washington were extremely pleased with the selection of Lord Halifax. Indeed it was at once apparent to me that the President greatly preferred it to my first proposal. The appointment of the new Ambassador was received with marked approval both in America and at home, and was judged in every way adequate and appropriate to the scale of events.
I had no doubt who should fill the vacancy at the Foreign Office. On all the great issues of the past four years I had, as these pages have shown, dwelt in close agreement with Anthony Eden. I have described my anxieties and emotions when he parted company with Mr. Chamberlain in the spring of 1938. Together we had abstained from the vote on Munich. Together we had resisted the party pressures brought to bear upon us in our constituencies during the winter of that melancholy year. We had been united in thought and sentiment at the outbreak of the war and as colleagues during its progress. The greater part of Eden’s public life had been devoted to the study of foreign affairs. He had held the splendid office of Foreign Secretary with distinction, and had resigned it when only forty-two years of age for reasons which are in retrospect, and at this time, viewed with the approval of all parties in the State. He had played a fine part as Secretary of State for War during this terrific year, and his conduct of Army affairs had brought us very close together. We thought alike, even without consultation, on a very great number of practical issues as they arose from day to day. I looked forward to an agreeable and harmonious comradeship between the Prime Minister and the Foreign Secretary, and this hope was certainly fulfilled during the four and a half years of war and policy which lay before us. Eden was sorry to leave the War Office, in all the stresses and excitements of which he was absorbed; but he returned to the Foreign Office like a man going home.
CHAPTER XV
DESERT VICTORY
IN spite of the Armistice and Oran and the ending of our diplomatic relations with Vichy, whither the French Government had moved under Marshal Pétain, I never ceased to feel a unity with France. People who have not been subjected to the personal stresses which fell upon prominent Frenchmen in the awful ruin of their country should be careful in their judgments of individuals. It is beyond the scope of this story to enter the maze of French politics. But I felt sure that the French nation would do its best for the common cause according to the facts presented to it. When they were told that their only salvation lay in following the advice of the illustrious Marshal, and that England, which had given them so little help, would soon be conquered or give in, very little choice was offered to the masses. But I was sure they wanted us to win, and that nothing would give them more joy than to see us continue the struggle with vigour. It was our first duty to give loyal support to General de Gaulle in his valiant constancy. On August 7 I signed a military agreement with him which dealt with practical needs. His stirring addresses were made known to France and the world by the British broadcast. The sentence of death which the Pétain Government passed upon him glorified his name. We did everything in our power to aid him and magnify his movement.
At the same time it was necessary to keep in touch not only with France but even with Vichy. I therefore always tried to make the best of them. I was very glad when at the end of 1940 the United States sent an Ambassador to Vichy of so much influence and character as Admiral Leahy, who was himself so close to the President. I repeatedly encouraged the Canadian Premier, Mr. Mackenzie King, to keep his representative, the skilful and accomplished M. Dupuy, at Vichy. Here at least was a window upon a courtyard to which we had no other access. On July 25 I sent a minute to the Foreign Secretary in which I said: “I want to promote a kind of collusive conspiracy in the Vichy Government whereby certain members of that Government, perhaps with the consent of those who remain, will levant to North Africa in order to make a better bargain for France from the North African shore and from a position of independence. For this purpose I would use both food and other inducements, as well as the obvious arguments.” Our consistent policy was to make the Vichy Government and its members feel that, so far as we were concerned, it was never too late to mend. Whatever had happened in the past, France was our comrade in tribulation, and nothing but actual war between us should prevent her being our partner in victory.
This mood was hard upon de Gaulle, who had risked all and kept the flag flying, but whose handful of followers outside France could never claim to be an effective alternative French Government. Nevertheless we did our utmost to increase his influence, authority, and power. He for his part naturally resented any kind of truck on our part with Vichy, and thought we ought to be exclusively loyal to him. He also felt it to be essential to his position before the French people that he should maintain a proud and haughty demeanour towards “perfidious Albion”, although an exile, dependent upon our protection and dwelling in our midst. He had to be rude to the British to prove to French eyes that he was not a British puppet. He certainly carried out this policy with perseverance. He even one day explained this technique to me, and I fully comprehended the extraordinary difficulties of his problem. I always admired his massive strength. Whatever Vichy might do for good or ill, we would not abandon him or discourage accessions to his growing colonial domain. Above all we would not allow any portion of the French Fleet, now immobilised in French colonial harbours, to return to France. There were times when the Admiralty were deeply concerned lest France should declare war upon us and thus add to our many cares. I always believed that once we had proved our resolve and ability to fight on indefinitely the spirit of the French people would never allow the Vichy Government to take so unnatural a step. Indeed, there was by now a strong enthusiasm and comradeship for Britain, and French hopes grew as the months passed. This was recognised even by M. Laval when he presently became Foreign Minister to Pétain.
It was otherwise with Italy. With the disappearance of France as a combatant and with Britain set on her struggle for life at home, Mussolini might well feel that his dream of dominating the Mediterranean and rebuilding the former Roman Empire would come true. Relieved from any need to guard against the French in Tunis, he could still further reinforce the numerous army he had gathered for the invasion of Egypt. Nevertheless the War Cabinet were determined to defend Egypt against all comers with whatever resources could be spared from the decisive struggle at home. All the more was this difficult when the Admiralty declared themselves unable to pass even military convoys through the Mediterranean on account of the air dangers. All must go round the Cape. Thus we might easily rob the Battle of Britain without helping the Battle of Egypt. It is odd that, while at the time everyone concerned was quite calm and cheerful, writing about it afterwards makes one shiver.
13*
When Italy declared war on June 10, 1940, the British Intelligence estimated—we now know corr
ectly—that, apart from her garrisons in Abyssinia, Eritrea, and Somaliland, there were about 215,000 Italian troops in North African coastal provinces. The British forces in Egypt amounted to perhaps fifty thousand men. From these both the defence of the western frontier and the internal security of Egypt had to be provided. We therefore had heavy odds against us in the field, and the Italians had also many more aircraft.
During July and August the Italians became active at many points. There was a threat from Kassala westwards towards Khartoum. Alarm was spread in Kenya by the fear of an Italian expedition marching four hundred miles south from Abyssinia towards the Tana River and Nairobi. Considerable Italian forces advanced into British Somaliland. But all these anxieties were petty compared with the Italian invasion of Egypt, which was obviously being prepared on the greatest scale. Even before the war a magnificent road had been made along the coast from the main base at Tripoli, through Tripolitania and Cyrenaica, to the Egyptian frontier. Along this road there had been for many months a swelling stream of military traffic. Large magazines were slowly established and filled at Benghazi, Derna, Tobruk, Bardia, and Sollum. The length of this road was over a thousand miles, and all these swarming Italian garrisons and supply depots were strung along it like beads on a string.
At the head of the road and near the Egyptian frontier an Italian army of seventy or eighty thousand men, with a good deal of modern equipment, had been patiently gathered and organised. Before this army glittered the prize of Egypt. Behind it stretched the long road back to Tripoli; and after that the sea! If this force, built up in driblets week by week for years, could advance continually eastward, conquering all who sought to bar the path, its fortunes would be bright. If it could gain the fertile regions of the Delta all worry about the long road back would vanish. On the other hand, if ill-fortune befell it only a few would ever get home. In the field army and in the series of great supply depots all along the coast there were by the autumn at least three hundred thousand Italians, who could, even if unmolested, retreat westward along the road only gradually or piecemeal. For this they required many months. And if the battle were lost on the Egyptian border, if the army’s front were broken, and if time were not given to them, all were doomed to capture or death. However, in July 1940 it was not known who was going to win the battle.
Our foremost defended position at that time was the railhead at Mersa Matruh. There was a good road westward to Sidi Barrani, but thence to the frontier at Sollum there was no road capable of maintaining any considerable strength for long near the frontier. A small covering mechanised force had been formed of some of our finest Regular troops, and orders had been given to attack the Italian frontier posts immediately on the outbreak of war. Accordingly, within twenty-four hours they crossed the frontier, took the Italians, who had not heard that war had been declared, by surprise, and captured prisoners. The next night, June 12, they had a similar success, and on June 14 captured the frontier forts at Capuzzo and Maddalena, taking 220 prisoners. On the 16th they raided deeper, destroyed twelve tanks, intercepted a convoy on the Tobruk-Bardia road, and captured a general.
In this small but lively warfare our troops felt they had the advantage, and soon conceived themselves to be masters of the desert. Until they came up against large formed bodies or fortified posts they could go where they liked, collecting trophies from sharp encounters. When armies approach each other it makes all the difference which owns only the ground on which it stands or sleeps and which one owns all the rest. I saw this in the Boer War, where we owned nothing beyond the fires of our camps and bivouacs, whereas the Boers rode where they pleased all over the country. The published Italian casualties for the first three months were nearly three thousand five hundred men, of whom seven hundred were prisoners. Our own losses barely exceeded one hundred and fifty. Thus the first phase in the war which Italy had declared upon the British Empire opened favourably for us.
I felt an acute need of talking over the serious events impending in the Libyan desert with General Wavell himself. I had not met this distinguished officer, on whom so much was resting, and I asked the Secretary of State for War to invite him over for a week for consultation when an opportunity could be found. He arrived on August 8. He toiled with the Staffs and had several long conversations with me and Mr. Eden. The command in the Middle East at that time comprised an extraordinary amalgam of military, political, diplomatic, and administrative problems of extreme complexity. It took nearly a year of ups and downs for me and my colleagues to learn the need of dividing the responsibilities of the Middle East between a Commander-in-Chief, a Minister of State, and an Intendant-General to cope with the supply problem. While not in full agreement with General Wavell’s use of the resources at his disposal, I thought it best to leave him in command. I admired his fine qualities, and was impressed with the confidence so many people had in him.
As a result of the Staff discussions Dill, with Eden’s ardent approval, wrote me that the War Office were arranging to send immediately to Egypt over one hundred and fifty tanks and many guns. The only question open was whether they should go round the Cape or take a chance through the Mediterranean. I pressed the Admiralty hard for direct convoy through the Mediterranean. Much discussion proceeded on this latter point. Meanwhile the Cabinet approved the embarkation and dispatch of the armoured force, leaving the final decision about which way they should go till the convoy approached Gibraltar. This option remained open to us till August 26, by which time we should know a good deal more about the imminence of any Italian attack. No time was lost. The decision to give this blood-transfusion while we braced ourselves to meet a mortal danger was at once awful and right. No one faltered.
Until the French collapse the control of the Mediterranean had been shared between the British and French Fleets. Now France was out and Italy was in. The numerically powerful Italian Fleet and a strong Italian Air Force were ranged against us. So formidable did the situation appear that Admiralty first thoughts contemplated the abandonment of the Eastern Mediterranean and concentration at Gibraltar. I resisted this policy, which, though justified on paper by the strength of the Italian Fleet, did not correspond to my impressions of the fighting values, and also seemed to spell the doom of Malta. It was resolved to fight it out at both ends. The burdens which lay upon the Admiralty at this time were however heavy in the extreme. The invasion danger required a high concentration of flotillas and small craft in the Channel and North Sea. The U-boats, which had by August begun to work from Biscayan ports, took severe toll of our Atlantic convoys without suffering many losses themselves. Until now the Italian Fleet had never been tested. The possibility of a Japanese declaration of war, with all that it would bring upon our Eastern Empire, could never be excluded from our thoughts. It is therefore not strange that the Admiralty viewed with the deepest anxiety all risking of warships in the Mediterranean, and were sorely tempted to adopt the strictest defensive at Gibraltar and Alexandria. I, on the other hand, did not see why the large number of ships assigned to the Mediterranean should not play an active part from the outset. Malta had to be reinforced both with air squadrons and troops. Although all commercial traffic was rightly suspended, and all large troop convoys to Egypt must go round the Cape, I could not bring myself to accept the absolute closure of the inland sea. Indeed I hoped that by running a few special convoys we might arrange and provoke a trial of strength with the Italian Fleet. I hoped that this might happen and Malta be properly garrisoned and equipped with aeroplanes and A.A. guns before the appearance, which I already dreaded, of the Germans in this theatre. All through the summer and autumn months I engaged in friendly though tense discussion with the Admiralty upon this part of our war effort.
However I was not able to induce the Admiralty to send the armoured force, or at least their vehicles, through the Mediterranean, and the whole convoy continued on its way round the Cape.
I was both grieved and vexed at this. No serious disaster did in fact occur in Egypt. Everywher
e, despite the Italian air strength, we held the initiative, and Malta remained in the foreground of events as an advanced base for offensive operations against the Italian communications with their forces in Africa.
Our anxieties about the Italian invasion of Egypt were, it now appears, far surpassed by those of Marshal Graziani, who commanded it. A few days before it was due to start he asked for a month’s postponement. Mussolini replied that if he did not attack on Monday he would be replaced. The Marshal answered that he would obey. “Never,” says Ciano, “has a military operation been undertaken so much against the will of the commanders.”
On September 13 the main Italian army began its long-expected advance across the Egyptian frontier. Their forces amounted to six infantry divisions and eight battalions of tanks. Our covering troops consisted of three battalions of infantry, one battalion of tanks, three batteries, and two squadrons of armoured cars. They were ordered to make a fighting withdrawal, an operation for which their quality and desert-worthiness fitted them. The Italian attack opened with a heavy barrage on our positions near the frontier town of Sollum. When the dust and smoke cleared the Italian forces were seen ranged in a remarkable order. In front were motor-cyclists in precise formation from flank to flank and front to rear; behind them were light tanks and many rows of mechanical vehicles. In the words of a British colonel, the spectacle resembled “a birthday party in the Long Valley at Aldershot”. The 3rd Coldstream Guards, who confronted this imposing array, withdrew slowly, and our artillery took its toll of the generous targets presented to them.
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