There was an oppressive silence. Stalin at length said that if we could not make a landing in France this year he was not entitled to demand it or to insist upon it, but he was bound to say that he did not agree with my arguments.
I then unfolded a map of Southern Europe, the Mediterranean, and North Africa. What was a “Second Front”? Was it only a landing on a fortified coast opposite England? Or could it take the form of some other great enterprise which might be useful to the common cause? I thought it better to bring him southward by steps. If, for instance, we could hold the enemy in the Pas de Calais by our concentrations in Britain, and at the same time attack elsewhere—for instance, in the Loire, the Gironde, or alternatively the Scheldt—this was full of promise. There indeed was a general picture of next year’s big operation. Stalin feared that it was not practicable. I said that it would indeed be difficult to land a million men, but that we should have to persevere and try.
We then passed on to the bombing of Germany, which gave general satisfaction. Stalin emphasised the importance of striking at the morale of the German population. He said he attached the greatest importance to bombing, and that he knew our raids were having a tremendous effect in Germany.
After this interlude, which relieved the tension, Stalin observed that from our long talk it seemed that all we were going to do was no “Sledgehammer”, no “Round-up”, and pay our way by bombing Germany. I decided to get the worst over first and to create a suitable background for the project I had come to unfold. I did not therefore try at once to relieve the gloom. Indeed, I asked specially that there should be the plainest speaking between friends and comrades in peril. However, courtesy and dignity prevailed.
The moment had now come to bring “Torch” into action. I said that I wanted to revert to the question of a Second Front in 1942, which was what I had come for. 1 did not think France was the only place for such an operation. There were other places, and we and the Americans had decided upon another plan, which I was authorised by the American President to impart to Stalin secretly. I would now proceed to do so. I emphasised the vital need of secrecy. At this Stalin sat up and grinned and said that he hoped that nothing about it would appear in the British Press.
I then explained precisely Operation “Torch”. As I told the whole story Stalin became intensely interested. His first question was what would happen in Spain and Vichy France. A little later on he remarked that the operation was militarily right, but he had political doubts about the effect on France. He asked particularly about the timing, and I said not later than October 30, but the President and all of us were trying to pull it forward to October 7. This seemed a great relief to the three Russians.
I then described the military advantages of freeing the Mediterranean, whence still another front could be opened. In September we must win in Egypt, and in October in North Africa, all the time holding the enemy in Northern France. If we could end the year in possession of North Africa we could threaten the belly of Hitler’s Europe, and this operation should be considered in conjunction with the 1943 operation. That was what we and the Americans had decided to do.
To illustrate my point I had meanwhile drawn a picture of a crocodile, and explained to Stalin with the help of this picture how it was our intention to attack the soft belly of the crocodile as we attacked his hard snout. And Stalin, whose interest was now at a high pitch, said, “May God prosper this undertaking.”
I emphasised that we wanted to take the strain off the Russians. If we attempted that in Northern France we should meet with a rebuff. If we tried in North Africa we had a good chance of victory, and then we could help in Europe. If we could gain North Africa Hitler would have to bring his Air Force back, or otherwise we would destroy his allies, even, for instance, Italy, and make a landing. The operation would have an important influence on Turkey and on the whole of Southern Europe, and all I was afraid of was that we might be forestalled. If North Africa were won this year we could make a deadly attack upon Hitler next year. This marked the turning-point in our conversation.
Stalin then began to present various political difficulties. Would not an Anglo-American seizure of “Torch” regions be misunderstood in France? What were we doing about de Gaulle? I said that at this stage we did not wish him to intervene in the operation. The Vichy French were likely to fire on de Gaullists but unlikely to fire on Americans. Harriman backed this very strongly by referring to reports, on which the President relied, by American agents all over “Torch” territories, and also to Admiral Leahy’s opinion.
At this point Stalin seemed suddenly to grasp the strategic advantages of “Torch”. He recounted four main reasons for it: first, it would hit Rommel in the back; second, it would overawe Spain; third, it would produce fighting between Germans and Frenchmen in France; and, fourth, it would expose Italy to the whole brunt of the war.
I was deeply impressed with this remarkable statement. It showed the Russian Dictator’s swift and complete mastery of a problem hitherto novel to him. Very few people alive could have comprehended in so few minutes the reasons which we had all so long been wrestling with for months. He saw it all in a flash.
I mentioned a fifth reason, namely, the shortening of the sea route through the Mediterranean. Stalin was concerned to know whether we were able to pass through the Straits of Gibraltar. I said it would be all right. I also told him about the change in the command in Egypt, and of our determination to fight a decisive battle there in late August or September. Finally, it was clear that they all liked “Torch”, though Molotov asked whether it could not be in September.
I then added, “France is down and we want to cheer her up.” France had understood Madagascar and Syria. The arrival of the Americans would send the French nation over to our side. It would intimidate Franco. The Germans might well say at once to the French, “Give us your Fleet and Toulon.” This would stir anew the antagonisms between Vichy and Hitler.
I then opened the prospect of our placing an Anglo-American Air Force on the southern flank of the Russian armies in order to defend the Caspian and the Caucasian mountains and generally to fight in this theatre. I did not however go into details, as of course we had to win our battle in Egypt first, and I had not the President’s plans for the American contribution. If Stalin liked the idea we would set to work in detail upon it. He replied that they would be most grateful for this aid, but that the details of location, etc., would require study. I was very keen on this project, because it would bring about more hard fighting between the Anglo-American air-power and the Germans, all of which aided the gaining of mastery in the air under more fertile conditions than looking for trouble over the Pas de Calais.
We then gathered round a large globe, and I explained to Stalin the immense advantages of clearing the enemy out of the Mediterranean. I told Stalin I should be available should he wish to see me again. He replied that the Russian custom was that the visitor should state his wishes and that he was ready to receive me at any time. He now knew the worst, and yet we parted in an atmosphere of goodwill.
The meeting had now lasted nearly four hours. It took half an hour or more to reach State Villa No. 7. Tired as I was, I dictated my telegram to the War Cabinet and the President after midnight, and then, with the feeling that at least the ice was broken and a human contact established, I slept soundly and long.
CHAPTER XVI
MOSCOW
A RELATIONSHIP ESTABLISHED
LATE the next morning I awoke in my luxurious quarters. It was Thursday, August 13—to me always “Blenheim Day”. I had arranged to visit Molotov in the Kremlin at noon in order to explain to him more clearly and fully the character of the various operations we had in mind. I pointed out how injurious to the common cause it would be if owing to recriminations about dropping “Sledgehammer” we were forced to argue publicly against such enterprises. I also explained in more detail the political setting of “Torch”. He listened affably, but contributed nothing. I proposed to him that I shou
ld see Stalin at 10 p.m. that night, and later in the day got word that eleven o’clock would be more convenient, and as the subjects to be dealt with would be the same as those of the night before, would I wish to bring Harriman? I said “Yes”, and also Cadogan, Brooke, Wavell, and Tedder, who had meanwhile arrived safely from Teheran in a Russian plane. They might have had a very dangerous fire in their Liberator.
Before leaving this urbane, rigid diplomatist’s room I turned to him and said, “Stalin will make a great mistake to treat us roughly when we have come so far.” For the first time Molotov unbent. “Stalin,” he said, “is a very wise man. You may be sure that, however he argues, he understands all. I will tell him what you say.”
I returned in time for luncheon to State Villa Number Seven. Out of doors the weather was beautiful. It was just like what we love most in England—when we get it. I thought we would explore the domain. State Villa Number Seven was a fine large, brand-new country house standing in its own extensive lawns and gardens in a fir wood of about twenty acres. There were agreeable walks, and it was pleasant in the beautiful August weather to lie on the grass or pine-needles. There were several fountains, and a large glass tank filled with many kinds of goldfish, who were all so tame that they would eat out of your hand. I made a point of feeding them every day. Around the whole was a stockade, perhaps fifteen feet high, guarded on both sides by police and soldiers in considerable numbers. About a hundred yards from the house was an air-raid shelter. At the first opportunity we were conducted over it. It was of the latest and most luxurious type. Lifts at either end took you down eighty or ninety feet into the ground. Here were eight or ten large rooms inside a concrete box of massive thickness. The rooms were divided from each other by heavy sliding doors. The lights were brilliant. The furniture was stylish, sumptuous and brightly coloured. I was more attracted by the goldfish.
We all repaired to the Kremlin at 11 p.m., and were received only by Stalin and Molotov, with their interpreter. Then began a most unpleasant discussion. I said he must understand we had made up our minds upon the course to be pursued and that reproaches were vain. We argued for about two hours, during which he said a great many disagreeable things, especially about our being too much afraid of fighting the Germans, and if we tried it like the Russians we should find it not so bad; that we had broken our promise about “Sledgehammer”; that we had failed in delivering the supplies promised to Russia and only sent remnants after we had taken all we needed for ourselves. Apparently those complaints were addressed as much to the United States as to Britain.
I repulsed all his contentions squarely, but without taunts of any kind. I suppose he was not used to being contradicted repeatedly, but he did not become at all angry, or even animated. He reiterated his view that it should be possible for the British and Americans to land six or eight divisions on the Cherbourg peninsula, since they had domination of the air. He felt that if the British Army had been fighting the Germans as much as the Russian Army it would not be so frightened of them. The Russians, and indeed the R.A.F., had shown that it was possible to beat the Germans. The British infantry could do the same provided they acted at the same time as the Russians.
I interposed that I pardoned the remarks which Stalin had made on account of the bravery of the Russian Army. The proposal for a landing in Cherbourg overlooked the existence of the Channel. Finally Stalin said we could carry it no further. He must accept our decision. He then abruptly invited us to dinner at eight o’clock the next night.
Accepting the invitation, I said I would leave by plane at dawn the following morning—i.e., the 15th. Joe seemed somewhat concerned at this, and asked could I not stay longer. I said certainly, if there was any good to be done, and that I would wait one more day anyhow. I then exclaimed that there was no ring of comradeship in his attitude. I had travelled far to establish good working relations. We had done our utmost to help Russia, and would continue to do so. We had been left entirely alone for a year against Germany and Italy. Now that the three great nations were allied, victory was certain, provided we did not fall apart, and so forth. I was somewhat animated in this passage. and before it could be translated he made the remark that he liked the tone of my utterance. Thereafter the talk began again in a somewhat less tense atmosphere.
He plunged into a long discussion of two Russian trench mortars firing rockets, which he declared were devastating in their effects, and which he offered to demonstrate to our experts if they could wait. He said he would let us have all information about them, but should there not be something in return? Should there not be an agreement to exchange information about inventions? I said that we would give them everything without any bargaining, except only those devices which, if carried in aeroplanes over the enemy lines and shot down, would make our bombing of Germany more difficult. He accepted this. He also agreed that his military authorities should meet our generals, and this was arranged for three o’clock in the afternoon. I said they would require at least four hours to go fully into the various technical questions involved in “Sledgehammer”, “Round-up”, and “Torch”. He observed at one moment that “Torch” was “militarily correct”, but that the political side required more delicacy—i.e., more careful handling. From time to time he returned to “Sledgehammer”, grumbling about it. When he said our promise had not been kept I replied, “I repudiate that statement. Every promise has been kept,” and I pointed to the aide-mémoire I gave Molotov.* He made a sort of apology, saying that he was expressing his sincere and honest opinions, that there was no mistrust between us, but only a difference of view.
Finally I asked about the Caucasus. Was he going to defend the mountain chain, and with how many divisions? At this he sent for a relief model, and, with apparent frankness and evident knowledge, explained the strength of this barrier, for which he said twenty-five divisions were available. He pointed to the various passes and said they would be defended. I asked were they fortified, and he said, “Yes, certainly.” The Russian front line, which the enemy had not yet reached, was north of the main range. He said they would have to hold out for two months, when the snow would make the mountains impassable. He declared himself quite confident of their ability to do this, and also recounted in detail the strength of the Black Sea Fleet, which was gathered at Batum.
All this part of the talk was easier, but when Harriman asked about the plans for bringing American aircraft across Siberia, to which the Russians had only recently consented after long American pressing, he replied, curtly, “Wars are not won with plans.” Harriman backed me up throughout, and we neither of us yielded an inch nor spoke a bitter word.
Stalin made his salute and held out his hand to me on leaving, and I took it.
I reported to the War Cabinet on August 14:
We asked ourselves what was the explanation of this performance and transformation from the good ground we had reached the night before. I think the most probable is that his Council of Commissars did not take the news I brought as well as he did. They may have more power than we suppose, and less knowledge. Perhaps he was putting himself on the record for future purposes and for their benefit, and also letting off steam for his own. Cadogan says a similar hardening up followed the opening of the Eden interview at Christmas, and Harriman says that this technique was also used at the beginning of the Beaverbrook mission.
It is my considered opinion that in his heart, so far as he has one, Stalin knows we are right, and that six divisions on “Sledgehammer” would do him no good this year. Moreover, I am certain that his surefooted and quick military judgment makes him a strong supporter of “Torch”. I think it not impossible that he will make amends. In that hope I persevere. Anyhow, I am sure it was better to have it out this way than any other. There was never at any time the slightest suggestion of their not fighting on, and I think myself that Stalin has good confidence that he will win. …
That evening we attended an official dinner at the Kremlin, where about forty people, including several o
f the military commanders, members of the Politburo, and other high officials, were present. Stalin and Molotov did the honours in cordial fashion. These dinners were lengthy, and from the beginning many toasts were proposed and responded to in very short speeeches. Silly tales have been told of how these Soviet dinners became drinking-bouts. There is no truth whatever in this. The Marshal and his colleagues invariably drank their toasts from tiny glasses, taking only a sip on each occasion. I had been well brought up.
During the dinner Stalin talked to me in lively fashion through the interpreter Pavlov. “Some years ago,” he said, “we had a visit from Mr. George Bernard Shaw and Lady Astor.” Lady Astor suggested that Mr. Lloyd George should be invited to visit Moscow, to which Stalin had replied, “Why should we ask him? He was the head of the intervention.” On this Lady Astor said, “That is not true. It was Churchill who misled him.” “Anyhow,” said Stalin, “Lloyd George was head of the Government and belonged to the Left. He was responsible, and we like a downright enemy better than a pretending friend.” “Well, Churchill is finished finally,” said Lady Astor. “I am not so sure,” Stalin had answered. “If a great crisis comes the English people might turn to the old war-horse.” At this point I interrupted saying, “There is much in what she said. I was very active in the intervention, and I do not wish you to think otherwise.” He smiled amicably, so 1 said, “Have you forgiven me?” “Premier Stalin, he say,” said Interpreter Pavlov, “all that is in the past, and the past belongs to God.”
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