The Second World War

by Winston S. Churchill

  Hungary was bound by a pact of friendship to Yugoslavia signed only in December 1940. But open opposition to the German demands could only lead to the German occupation of Hungary in the course of the imminent military operations. There was also the temptation of regaining the territories on her southern frontiers which Hungary had lost to Yugoslavia after the first World War. The Hungarian Premier, Count Teleki, had been working consistently to maintain some liberty of action for his country. He was by no means convinced that Germany would win. At the time of signing the Tripartite Pact he had little confidence in the independence of Italy as an Axis partner. Hitler’s ultimatum required the breach of his own Hungarian agreement with Yugoslavia. The initiative was however wrested from him by the Hungarian General Staff, whose chief, General Werth, himself of German origin, made his own arrangements with the German High Command behind the back of the Hungarian Government.

  Teleki at once denounced Werth’s action as treasonable. On the evening of April 2, 1941, he received a telegram from the Hungarian Minister in London that the British Foreign Office had stated formally to him that if Hungary took part in any German move against Yugoslavia she must expect a declaration of war upon her by Great Britain. Thus the choice for Hungary was either a vain resistance to the passage of German troops or ranging herself openly against the Allies and betraying Yugoslavia. In this cruel position Count Teleki saw but one means of saving his personal honour. Shortly after nine o’clock he left the Hungarian Ministry of Foreign Affairs and retired to his apartments in the Sandor Palace. There he received a telephone call. It is believed that this message stated that the German armies had already crossed the Hungarian frontier. Shortly afterwards he shot himself. His suicide was a sacrifice to absolve himself and his people from guilt in the German attack upon Yugoslavia. It clears his name before history. It could not stop the march of the German armies nor the consequences.

  The movement of our expedition to Greece had meanwhile begun. In order of embarkation, it comprised the British 1st Armoured Brigade, the New Zealand Division, and the 6th Australian Division. These were all fully equipped at the expense of other formations in the Middle East. They were to be followed by the Polish Brigade and the 7th Australian Division. The plan was to hold the Aliakhmon Une, which ran from the mouth of the river of that name through Veria and Edhessa to the Yugoslav frontier. Our forces were to join the Greek forces deployed on this front, which were nominally the equivalent of seven divisions, and were to come under the command of General Wilson.

  THE BALKANS

  The Greek troops were far less than General Papagos had originally promised.* The great majority of the Greek Army, about fifteen divisions, was in Albania. The remainder were in Macedonia, whence Papagos declined to withdraw them, and where, after four days’ fighting, when the Germans attacked, they ceased to be a military force. Our air force numbered only eighty operational aircraft, against a German air strength of over ten times as many. The weakness of the Aliakhmon position lay on its left flank, which could be turned by a German advance through Southern Yugoslavia. There had been little contact with the Yugoslav General Staff, whose plan of defence and degree of preparedness were not known to the Greeks or ourselves. It was hoped however that in the difficult country which the enemy would have to cross the Yugoslavs would at least be able to impose considerable delay on them. This hope was to prove ill-founded. General Papagos did not consider that withdrawal from Albania to meet such a turning movement was a feasible operation. Not only would it severely affect morale, but the Greek Army was so ill-equipped with transport and communications were so bad that a general withdrawal in the face of the enemy was impossible. He had certainly left the decision till too late. It was in these circumstances that our 1st Armoured Brigade reached the forward area on March 27, where it was joined a few days later by the New Zealand Division.

  The news of the revolution in Belgrade naturally gave us great satisfaction. Here at least was one tangible result of our desperate efforts to form an Allied front in the Balkans and prevent all falling piecemeal into Hitler’s power. It was settled that Eden should remain in Athens to deal with Turkey and that General Dill should proceed to Belgrade. Anyone could see that the position of Yugoslavia was forlorn unless a common front was immediately presented by all the Powers concerned. There was however open to Yugoslavia the chance already mentioned of striking a deadly blow at the naked rear of the disorganised Italian armies in Albania. If they acted promptly they might bring about a major military event, and while their own country was being ravaged from the north might possess themselves of the masses of munitions and equipment which would give them the power of conducting the guerilla in their mountains which was now their only hope. It would have been a grand stroke, and would have reacted upon the whole Balkan scene. In our circle in London we all saw this together. The diagram on page 413 shows the movement which was deemed feasible.

  But the mistakes of years cannot be remedied in hours. When the general excitement had subsided everyone in Belgrade realised that disaster and death approached them and that there was little they could do to avert their fate. The High Command could now at last mobilise their armies. But there was no strategic plan. Dill found only confusion and paralysis. The Yugoslav Government, mainly for fear of the effect on the internal situation, were determined to take no step which might be considered provocative to Germany. At this moment all the might of Germany within reach was descending like an avalanche upon them. One would have thought from the mood and outlook of the Yugoslav Ministers that they had months in which to take their decision about peace or war with Germany. Actually they had only seventy-two hours before the onslaught fell upon them.

  On the morning of April 6 German bombers appeared over Belgrade. Flying in relays from occupied airfields in Roumania, they delivered a methodical attack lasting three days upon the Yugoslav capital. From roof-top height, without fear of resistance, they blasted the city without mercy. This was called Operation “Punishment”. When the silence came at last on April 8 over seventeen thousand citizens of Belgrade lay dead in the streets or under the débris. Out of the nightmare of smoke and fire came the maddened animals released from their shattered cages in the zoological gardens. A stricken stork hobbled past the main hotel, which was a mass of flames. A bear, dazed and uncomprehending, shuffled through the inferno with slow and awkward gait down towards the Danube. He was not the only bear who did not understand.

  Simultaneously with the ferocious bombardment of Belgrade, the converging German armies already poised on the frontiers invaded Yugoslavia from several directions. The Yugoslav General Staff did not attempt to strike their one deadly blow at the Italian rear. They conceived themselves bound not to abandon Croatia and Slovenia, and were therefore forced to attempt the defence of the whole frontier line. The four Yugoslav Army Corps in the north were rapidly and irresistibly bent inwards by the German armoured columns, supported by Hungarian troops which crossed the Danube, and by German and Italian forces advancing towards Zagreb. The main Yugoslav forces were thus driven in confusion southwards, and on April 13 the Germans entered Belgrade. Meanwhile the Twelfth German Army, assembled in Bulgaria, had swung into Serbia and Macedonia. They had entered Monastir and Yannina on the 10th, and thus had prevented any contact between the Yugoslavs and Greeks and broken up the Yugoslav forces in the south.

  Seven days later Yugoslavia capitulated.

  This sudden collapse destroyed the main hope of the Greeks. It was another example of “One at a time”. We had done our utmost to procure concerted action, but through no fault of ours we had failed. A grim prospect now gaped upon us all. Five German divisions, including three armoured, took part in the southward drive to Athens. By April 8 it was clear that Yugoslav resistance in the south was breaking down and that the left flank of the Aliakhmon position would shortly be threatened, and on April 10 the attack on our flank guard began. It was arrested during two days of stiff fighting in severe weather.

 
Farther west there was only one Greek cavalry division keeping touch with the forces in Albania, and General Wilson decided that his hard-pressed left flank must be pulled back. This move was completed on April 13, but in the process the Greek Divisions began to disintegrate. Henceforward our Expeditionary Force was alone. Wilson, still menaced upon his left flank, decided to withdraw to Thermopylæ. He put this to Papagos, who approved, and who himself at this stage suggested British evacuation from Greece. The next few days were decisive. Wavell telegraphed on the 16th that General Wilson had had a conversation with Papagos, who described the Greek Army as being severely pressed and getting into administrative difficulties owing to air action. Wavell’s instructions to Wilson were to continue the fighting in co-operation with the Greeks so long as they were able to resist, but authorised any further withdrawal judged necessary. Orders had been given for all ships on the way to Greece to be turned back, for no more ships to be loaded, and for those already loading or loaded to be emptied.

  GREECE

  To this grave but not unexpected news I replied at once that we could not remain in Greece against the wish of the Greek Commander-in-Chief, and thus expose the country to devastation, and that if the Greek Government assented, the evacuation should proceed.

  “Crete,” I added, “must be held in force.”

  On the 17th General Wilson motored from Thebes to the palace at Tatoi, and there met the King, General Papagos, and our Ambassador. It was accepted that withdrawal to the Thermopylæ line had been the only possible plan. General Wilson was confident that he could hold that line for a while. The main discussion was the method and order of evacuation. The Greek Government would not leave for at least another week.

  The Greek Prime Minister, M. Korysis, has already been mentioned. He had been chosen to fill the gap when Metaxas died. He had no claim to public office except a blameless private life and clear, resolute convictions. He could not survive the ruin, as it seemed, of his country or bear longer his own responsibilities. Like Count Teleki in Hungary, he resolved to pay the forfeit of his life. On the 18th he committed suicide. His memory should be respected.

  The retreat to Thermopylæ was a difficult manœuvre, but stubborn and skilful rearguard actions checked the impetuous German advance at all points, inflicting severe losses. By April 20 the occupation of the Thermopylæ position was complete. Frontally it was strong, but our forces were strained. The Germans made slow progress and the position was never severely tested. On this same day the Greek armies on the Albanian front surrendered. On the 21st His Majesty told General Wavell that time rendered it impossible for any organised Greek force to support the British left flank before the enemy could attack. Wavell replied that in that case he felt that it was his duty to take immediate steps for re-embarkation of such portion of his army as he could extricate. The King entirely agreed, and seemed to have expected this. He spoke with deep regret of having been the means of placing the British forces in such a position. He promised what help he could. But all was vain. The final surrender of Greece to overwhelming German might was made on April 24.

  We were now confronted with another of those evacuations by sea which we had endured in 1940. The organised withdrawal of over fifty thousand men from Greece under the conditions prevailing might well have seemed an almost hopeless task. At Dunkirk on the whole we had air mastery. In Greece the Germans were in complete and undisputed control of the air and could maintain an almost continuous attack on the ports and on the retreating Army. It was obvious that embarkation could only take place by night, and moreover that troops must avoid being seen near the beaches in daylight. This was Norway over again, and on ten times the scale.

  Admiral Cunningham threw nearly the whole of his light forces, including six cruisers and nineteen destroyers, into the task. Working from the small ports and beaches in Southern Greece, together with transports, assault ships and many smaller craft, the work of rescue began on the night of April 24.

  For five successive nights the work continued. On the 26th the enemy captured the vital bridge over the Corinth Canal by parachute attack, and thereafter German troops poured into the Peloponnese, harrying our hard-pressed soldiers as they strove to reach the southern beaches. At Nauplion there was disaster. The transport Slamat in a gallant but misguided effort to embark the maximum stayed too long in the anchorage. Soon after dawn, when clearing the land, she was attacked and sunk by dive-bombers. Two destroyers, who rescued most of the 700 men on board, were both in turn sunk by air attack a few hours later. There were only fifty survivors from all three ships.

  On the 28th and 29th efforts were made by two cruisers and six destroyers to rescue 8,000 troops and 1,400 Yugoslav refugees from the beaches near Kalamata. A destroyer sent on ahead to arrange the embarkation found the enemy in possession of the town and large fires burning, and the main operation had to be abandoned. Although a counter-attack drove the Germans out of the town, only about 450 men were rescued from beaches to the eastward by four destroyers, using their own boats. These events marked the end of the main evacuation. Small isolated parties were picked up in various islands or in small craft at sea during the next two days, and 1,400 officers and men, aided by the Greeks at mortal peril, made their way back to Egypt independently in later months.

  In all over 11,000 of our own troops were lost and 50,662 were safely brought out, including men of the Royal Air Force and several thousand Cypriots, Palestinians, Greeks, and Yugoslavs. This figure represented about 80 per cent. of the forces originally sent into Greece. These results were only made possible by the determination and skill of the seamen of the Royal and Allied Merchant Navies, who never faltered under the enemy’s most ruthless efforts to halt their work. From April 21 until the end of the evacuation twenty-six ships were lost by air attack. The Royal Air Force, with a Fleet Air Arm contingent from Crete, did what they could to help, but they were overwhelmed by numbers. Nevertheless, from November onwards our few squadrons had done fine service. They inflicted on the enemy confirmed losses of 231 planes and had dropped 500 tons of bombs. Their own losses of 209 machines, of which 72 were in combat, were severe, their record exemplary.

  The small but efficient Greek Navy now passed under British control. A cruiser, six modern destroyers, and four submarines escaped to Alexandria, where they arrived on April 25. Thereafter the Greek Navy was represented with distinction in many of our operations in the Mediterranean.

  If in telling this tale of tragedy the impression is given that the Imperial and British forces received no effective military assistance from their Greek Allies, it must be remembered that these three weeks of April fighting at desperate odds were for the Greeks the culmination of the hard five months’ struggle against Italy in which they had expended almost the whole life-strength of their country. Attacked in October 1940 without warning by at least twice their numbers, they had first repulsed the invaders and then in counter-attack had beaten them back forty miles into Albania. Throughout the bitter winter in the mountains they had been at close grips with a more numerous and better-equipped foe. The Greek Army of the North-West had neither the transport nor the roads for a rapid manœuvre to meet at the last moment the new overpowering German attack cutting in behind its flank and rear. Its strength had already been strained almost to the limit in a long and gallant defence of the homeland.

  There were no recriminations. The friendliness and aid which the Greeks had so faithfully shown to our troops endured nobly to the end. The people of Athens and at other points of evacuation seemed more concerned for the safety of their would-be rescuers than with their own fate. Greek martial honour stands undimmed.

  In a broadcast I tried not only to express the feelings of the English-speaking world but to state the dominant facts which ruled our fate:

  While we naturally view with sorrow and anxiety much that is happening in Europe and in Africa, and may happen in Asia, we must not lose our sense of proportion and thus become discouraged or alarmed. When we face with a
steady eye the difficulties which lie before us, we may derive new confidence from remembering those we have already overcome. Nothing that is happening now is comparable in gravity with the dangers through which we passed last year. Nothing that can happen in the East is comparable with what is happening in the West.

  I have some lines which seem apt and appropriate to our fortunes to-night, and I believe they will be so judged wherever the English language is spoken or the flag of freedom flies.

  “For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,

  Seem here no painful inch to gain,

  Far back, through creeks and inlets making,

  Comes silent, flooding in, the main.

  And not by eastern windows only,

  When daylight comes, comes in the light:

  In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly!

  But westward, look, the land is bright.”

  CHAPTER XIX

  THE DESERT FLANK

  Rommel. Tobruk

  ALL our efforts to form a front in the Balkans were founded upon the sure maintenance of the Desert Flank in North Africa. This might have been fixed at Tobruk; but Wavell’s rapid westward advance and the capture of Benghazi had given us all Cyrenaica. To this the sea-corner at Agheila was the gateway. It was common ground between all authorities in London and Cairo that this must be held at all costs and in priority over every other venture. The utter destruction of the Italian forces in Cyrenaica and the long road distances to be traversed before the enemy could gather a fresh army led Wavell to believe that for some time to come he could afford to hold this vital western flank with moderate forces and to relieve his tried troops with others less well trained. The Desert Flank was the peg on which all else hung, and there was no idea in any quarter of losing or risking that for the sake of Greece or anything in the Balkans.