This week in the war, 1–7 July 1940: England’s Last War Against France

England’s last war against France—as recounted in Colin Smith’s book of that very title—was not fought in Napoleonic times. We are not talking Wellington versus Bonaparte at Waterloo. Rather: Winston Churchill versus Marshal Philip Petain, leader of Vichy France.

Their war began in earnest on 3 July 1940, when battleships of the Royal Navy lobbed 15inch shells into the French fleets at anchor in the Algerian ports of Mers-el-Kebir and Oran. The French admiral had rejected the demand to surrender and so the British opened fire.

 

The battleship Bretagne was sunk, and the Province and Dunkerque were severly damaged. Almost 1,300 French sailors perished that day.

Meanwhile, in the south of England, French vessels at anchor in Plymouth and Portsmouth were boarded and forcibly taken over by British sailors.

Petain responded to the attacks by ordering Vichy planes to strike the Royal Navy’s base in Gibralter. He cut off diplomatic relations—meaning that the British could not maintain a consulate or embassy in Vichy. (Recall that Vichy was neutral. The USA, for example, kept a consulate there until after Pearl Harbour).

The addition of the French navy to the navies of Italy and Germany would certainly cause Britain to lose the Mediterranean, and likely the war. Churchill’s grim determination that the French fleet must never fall into Hitler’s grasp was a watershed decision—one of several, during those early days when Britain stood alone.

The blood of 1,300 Frenchmen was the price to keep Great Britain in the war. It showed the world, particular the Americans, that Britain would see things through to the end.

 

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Milestones: Reinhard Heydrich. The usurper meets his end.


This week finds me in Prague and in the company of friends—some of whom are World War II buffs. The beautiful old city is dominated by its castle, which was once home to the kings of Bohemia and still lodges the Czech crown jewels. During World War II, the castle was taken over by the German army of occupation and became the headquarters of SS-Obergruppenfuehrer Reinhard Heydrich, Reichsprotektor of Bohemia and Moravia. This year is the 70th anniversary of his assassination.

The above artist’s impression of the 1942 ambushing of Heydrich’s Mercedes has just been made available through Wikimedia UK, and comes from the British National Archives war art collection. Maybe Heydrich should have stayed out of the castle and left the royal jewels well alone. It’s believed he tried on the crown for size—and legend has it that usurpers are doomed to die with the year.

The legend proved true, at least for Heydrich. Two Czechoslovak patriots—Jozef Gabcik and Jan Kubis—were trained by Britain’s Special Operations Executive (SOE) and parachuted into Czechoslovakia with a view to monitoring Heydrich’s movements and then killing him. They were accompanied by several other soldiers from the Czechoslovak army-in-exile that was based in Britain.

On 27 May 1942,  Gabcik and Kubis intercepted Heydrich’s Mercedes on the Obergruppenfuehrer’s daily commute to the castle.  Heydrich ordered his driver to stop the car, and there was an exchange of gunfire. Heydrich received a shrapnel wound from a grenade but, even so, he opened fire with his pistol and leapt out to chase the fleeing assailants.

The wound was more serious than anyone had realized. Despite the efforts of some of Europe’s top surgeons, he succumbed to blood-poisoning several days later.

The brutality of the Nazi reprisals is well known: complete destruction of the villages of Lidice and Lezaky and murder or deportation of the inhabitants. Several thousand people were to die in total.

 

Earlier this year, a monument was unveiled in the courtyard of the St. Cyril & St. Methodius Cathedral to honour the patriots who gave their lives.

It was there, in the cathedral, that Gabcik, Kubis, and the others took refuge. SS troops besieged the building and, one by one, the defenders perished—some in the fighting and some by their own hand, to avoid capture. Bishop Gorazd and his priests were accused of complicity and were executed by firing squad. With typical Third Reich efficiency, the Gestapo sought out Jan Kubis’s girlfriend. She was deported, and died in the Mauthausen-Gusen concentration camp.

 

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This week in the War, 24–30 June 1940: ‘A policeman’s lot is not a happy one’

Were Gilbert & Sullivan right?

In a show-stopping number in their comic musical The Pirates of Penzance, the policemen’s chorus declares ‘A policeman’s lot is not a happy one.’

The action takes place near the English seaside town of Penzance on the peninsula of Cornwall, scarcely an hour, as the Dornier flies, from the islands of Jersey, Guernsey, Alderney and Sark, which are situated on the ‘French side’ of the English Channel.

English to the core, the Channel Islands were quickly demilitarized and abandoned by the Mother Country. They were too close to Nazi-occupied France and too far from Britain to be defended. This week in the war, on 30 June 1940, German officers flew into Jersey and Guernsey to take charge. The turn of Alderney and Sark followed soon after.

The policeman’s lot on all four islands quickly became ‘not a happy one.’ Plenty of British photos, published after the war (and German propaganda photos, published during), show British policeman performing various acts of deference in the presence of the conquerors. Maybe saluting, or opening a car door—as shown below.

What is it with we Brits and our relationship with our beloved bobbies? Viewed nowadays, the pictures feel a tad weird. Perhaps they offer a taste of how life in Britain might have panned out if Hitler had won the war and the UK been taken over by the enemy.

The Channel Islands remained occupied until  the end of the war, and suffered all of the expected shortages and deprivations. Some islanders were imprisoned, or suffered deportation. Some were murdered in concentration camps.

The German occupation of the Channel Islands has been a popular source of inspiration for novelists, including Jack Higgins. His best selling novel The Eagle has Landed is set, in part, in Alderney.

 

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Milestones: The cadets of Saumur

In Saumur, there’s a marvellous tank museum—le Musee des Blindes, as it’s called in French—and I was there not so long ago.

The tanks date from World War I up to modern times. There’s a WWII Panther and a King Tiger and this Panzer Mark II.  The Mark IIs did stalwart service during the 1940 Blitzkrieg.

One of the gems of local history concerns the cavalry school based in Saumur (there was no museum then, of course) and tells of how the young cadets held the bridges across the Loire in the face of the modern tanks and artillery of the advancing Germans. It happened on 19–20 June 1940, seventy-two years ago today.

After I spent the morning at the museum—immersed in history, and tanks, and meeting a few kindred spirits as obsessed as I—it was time to slip back a few centuries and take in the town’s second big attraction, the Chateau de Saumur. The chateau is responsible for an excellent Cabernet Sauvignon; light and fruity, very much to my taste. That’s me, among the vines.

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This week in the War, 17–23 June 1940: Two tourists in Paris

Most visitors to Paris love the city—and I’m no exception; I adore it—and most come in July or August. It’s the time of year when Parisians flee to the countryside, abandoning their parks and boulevards to hordes of tourists.

Paris had been declared an open city and was already occupied by the Wehrmacht by 17 June 1940, when American journalist William Shirer arrived as an unenthusiastic tourist. Shirer was chief of Universal News Service’s Berlin office.

“It was no fun for me,” he writes in Berlin Diary 1934–1941. “When we drove into Paris, down the familiar streets, I had an ache in the pit of my stomach and I wished I had not come.”

If Shirer was saddened by the empty streets and shuttered store fronts—the collapse of French society, as he saw it—at least two Frenchman were doing something about it.

In Brive-la-Gaillarde, Edmond Michelet was distributing pamphlets in all of the mailboxes in town, encouraging his fellow citizens to continue the fight. In London, de Gaulle broadcast the same message over the airways.

These fledgling acts of resistance could not affect the the outcome of the battle. The French asked for terms, and an armistice was signed 22 June.

On 23 June, Hitler toured Paris and—by all accounts—enjoyed himself. First he visited the famous Paris opera house, where he acted almost like a tour guide. He was a fan of architecture and had studied the plans ahead of time.

In fact Hitler brought his own official architect, Albert Speer, along for the ride.

They went on to visit the Madeleine, then drove down the Champs Elysees to the Trocadero, where the photo at the side was taken. Speer is on the left. He tells about the visit in his best selling memoir, Inside the Third Reich (Macmillan, 1970).

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In the news: Ghosts of Olympics past

With this year’s London Olympics fast approaching, the topic of previous Olympic Games has garnered much attention in UK newspapers. An article in yesterday’s Guardian by Alex von Tunzelmann focussed on the Berlin Olympics of 1936 and the movie Olympia, directed by Leni Riefenstahl.

Actress-turned-movie-director, Leni Riefenstahl, was termed a ‘wild woman’ by Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels—largely because he could not control the strong-willed Riefenstahl. Being in charge of every aspect of the German media, films included, Goebbels expected to hold dominion over/sleep with his leading actresses.

But Hitler liked her, and she liked him. A lot.

He met her first at a North Sea beach near Wilhelmshaven, and subsequently showered her with attention; so much so that people assumed they were having an affair. Was she Hitler’s mistress? reporters asked, when she visited New York.

Regardless of the truth, her artistic talent was undeniable. She broke new ground as producer, writer, editor and director in the male-dominated arena of film making.

Leni Riefenstahl lived to be 101 years old and was active to the end. She died very shortly after her marriage to her long-term companion—something that she and the Fuehrer had in common.

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This week in the War, 10–16 June 1940: Faith, Hope, and Charity

The Italians had been watching from the sidelines. Suddenly, 10 June 1940, Benito Mussolini announced, in a grandiose speech from his balcony over Palazzo Venezia, that they were joining in the war on Germany’s side.

Good timing. France was on the verge of collapse. No one questioned whether the Germans would march into Paris—only how soon.

In Washington, Roosevelt risked alienating the Italian vote in the upcoming US election. “On this 10th day of June, 1940,” he said, speaking on the very night of Il Duce‘s declaration of war, “the hand that held the dagger has struck it into the back of its neighbour.”

For the beleaguered French army, there would be an additional frontier to defend along the south-western border with Italy. For the Royal Navy, there was the prospect of losing the Mediterranean—the supply route for the British army in Egypt, for Suez and the whole of the Middle East. India, even. (This thought had occurred to Hitler). The Italian battle fleet was modern. The Italian air force—the Regia Aeronautica—far outnumbered the pitiably few aircraft that the RAF could spare. Britain’s dwindling supply of Spitfires and Hurricanes was needed at home.
The British naval base on the tiny island of Malta dominated the shipping routes across the central Mediterranean and was to become one of the most bombed locales of World War II. The Regia Aeronautica launched the first of its massed air raids on 11 June, less than twenty-four hours after Il Duce‘s  speech to the throngs in Rome.

One of the enduring myths of the battle for Malta—in fact of the entire war—surrounded three RAF Gloster Sea Gladiator bi-planes, nicknamed Faith, Hope, and Charity, which flew up each day to do battle with scores of Italian (later German) fighter planes and bombers. Some say there were a few more than three of the obsolete Gladiators. Perhaps the RAF had a couple of modern Hurricanes at hand. Nonetheless, most agree that much of the legend is fact, and that it gave hope and faith to the Allied cause when there was precious little to be had.

Charity became the next casualty of war that week. Churchill refused to send more fighter squadrons to assist the French. Roosevelt resisted French appeals for American intervention.

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This week in the War, 3–9 June 1940: We shall fight on the beaches…

This week in the war, on 4 June 1940, Winston Churchill declares to the House of Commons that the nation will continue to fight, no matter what.

“We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.”

Britain’s army has been successfully evacuated from Dunkirk—minus all of its equipment. The country is virtually unarmed. In the whole of the British Isles, there are only 500 field guns, many of which are museum-pieces.

The hastily thrown together Local Defence Volunteers—shortly after to be renamed ‘The Home Guard’—are shown on the right (and were more recently featured on a 60 pence memorial postage stamp, drilling with broom handles).

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In the news/Book review: 6 June–Anniversary of D-Day

Today (6 June) is the day when veterans and dignitaries of the warring nations of WWII gather on the beaches of Normandy to give thanks, and to honour the fallen of 68 years ago. This week, tourists will fan out across the small seaport towns of northern France, inspect the displays, marvel at the remnants of concrete bunkers, and try to imagine the scene as it was back in 1944. The picture at the left shows some US paratroopers, happily displaying a captured flag. If anyone can identify the unit, please let me know.

If you are looking to skip the more substantial tomes (and there are many first-rate ones) and would prefer the quick-read pocketbook version: try Martin Gilbert’s D-Day (Wiley, 2004). Only 200 smallish pages.

Despite Gilbert’s status as academic historian and Churchill biographer, the book has an easygoing style and is full of entertaining anecdotes. Utah, Omaha, Gold, Juno, and Sword were the code names of the famous beaches of Operation Overlord. Mulberry was the code name for the artificial harbour, created from pre-fabricated jetties that were towed across the English Channel. Astonishingly, the two American beaches (Utah and Omaha), and Overlord, and Mulberry, were discovered to be answers to crossword puzzles published a few weeks earlier in the London Daily Telegraph. A monumental breach in security?

Apparently not. Gilbert relates how the designer of the crosswords was questioned by MI5 and the whole affair put down to coincidence.

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Book review: Atonement by Ian McEwan

With summer on the way and time to spend at the beach (park? backyard?), you might take along Atonement—if you’ve not read the book already.

Ian McEwan captures the pre-WWII life of the English gentry. His heroine, Briony, is a child before the war, and an adult during. Could someone, McEwan asks his readers, do something so awful that she can never make amends, never atone for her wickedness,… ever?

[My wife despises Briony with a passion and thinks that she could never atone for her crime!]

The middle section of novel switches gear and covers the Dunkirk evacuation of 27 May–4 June 1940. Briony becomes a nurse and the remainder of the book follows her life and includes wonderfully convincing descriptions of her treating the wounded in a London hospital. Try it.

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