Munich Shuffle: 1938-1942

[Garrison]

September 17th 1938 – Britain – Disaster at Hendon​

After the Anschluss in March of 1938 there may have been hopes that Hitler might be satisfied with his gains and concentrate on consolidating them, at least for a year or two. There was a brief panic about the possibility of a German attack on Czechoslovakia in the weeks after the Anschluss. When this came to nothing many in Britain and France felt Hitler had been forced to back down by the possibility of action on their part. Since the panic was the product of nothing more than rumour, this reaction served to enrage Hitler and by the summer the threat of war was looming large as Hitler began issuing bombastic demands for the unification of the Sudetenland with Germany. This border region of Czechoslovakia did have a majority ethnic German population, and Czechoslovakia was allied with France and the USSR while the Sudetenland contained much of the Czechs border defences. This time war seemed almost inevitable, even some supporters of appeasement felt this might be the end of the road, that these fresh demands from Berlin could not be met.

The public reaction in Britain was alarm bordering on panic in some cases. The 1930s had been a decade marked by the rise of pacifism and demands for disarmament, fuelled by the rise of the view that all the sacrifices of the First World War had been futile. The promises of a ‘land fit for heroes’ rang hollow to those struggling with poverty and unemployment in the midst of the Great Depression. The infamous 1933 Oxford Union debate where the proposition, ‘This house will under no circumstance fight for its king and country’, was passed can be taken as a indication of the attitudes of the time, or students wishing to shock the establishment if one wishes to take a contrary position.

In the summer of 1938, there was still no appetite for war, either in the British public or in the corridors of power. Nonetheless by August air raid shelters were being constructed, gas masks were being distributed en masse and anti-aircraft defences were being put in place around London. A report circulating in Whitehall claimed that London would be destroyed by bombing within a week of war starting with 1,000,000 casualties. Unbeknownst to the British at almost the same time as this dire prediction was being taken as gospel in London the Luftwaffe High Command, in a panic at the prospect of a war it was far from ready to fight, was telling Hitler that no strategic bombing campaign could be carried out against the British mainland unless bases in Norway and Northern France could be secured first.

In this febrile atmosphere it is then far more comprehensible that Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, one of the chief architects of appeasement after all, was willing to go to extraordinary lengths to prevent war. Two questions have hung over Chamberlain’s actions ever since. Was he playing for time or genuinely convinced that peace could be had? And to what extent were his intentions changed by the events at Hendon Aerodrome on the 17th of September 1938?

On the 17th Chamberlain was flying back to London from his second trip to Germany. Neither had produced satisfactory results, which was all but inevitable given that a satisfactory result for Hitler was the outbreak of war. What Chamberlain’s intentions were at this point is uncertain, though it seems likely that he was still disposed to try again and perhaps offer greater concessions than those that had already caused some alarm in the cabinet. Whatever the Prime Minister’s intentions they were rendered irrelevant as the Lockheed 14 Super Electra carrying him made its final approach to land at Hendon Aerodrome and suffered a mechanical failure. As is all too often the case in such accidents eyewitness accounts were confused about the exact sequence of events, some claiming to have seen fire, smoke, or something falling off the Electra as it descended.

What can be said with certainty is that with the plane around 200ft off the ground the right wing dipped, sending the aircraft into a sharp turn, causing it to slow and lose lift, resulting in a rapid descent. At the last moment the plane seemed to level and struck the ground belly first, destroying the landing gear. That the wing didn’t clip the ground is probably why the plane didn’t cartwheel or roll as it crashed, though what did happen to the Electra was bad enough. The tail of the aircraft tore off and there was extensive damage to the fuselage as it skidded across the grass. Still it did remain upright, almost certainly saved lives, including that of Neville Chamberlain himself. This was one of seven accidents involving the Super Electra in 1938[1], which has not prevented multiple works of fiction, and alleged non-fiction, from creating plots involving sabotage and attempted assassination, including among their ranks a James Bond novel, which was considerably better written and more plausible than many of the increasingly bizarre conspiracy theories.

Disregarding the cause of the crash the central fact was that the Prime Minister had survived. Chamberlain had a broken leg and most seriously an ugly gash across the face that would cost him the sight in his left eye in addition to a plethora of cuts and bruises. Some at the time saw Chamberlain’s survival as an act of providence. Others, particularly after the war, saw it as a punishment for hubris, what is not in doubt is that fate of Europe was hanging on how London, Paris, and Berlin reacted to this new twist in the Sudetenland crisis.

[1] Yes that model of aircraft really did have a terrible accident record:

Lockheed Model 14 Super Electra - Wikipedia

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So, this is called Munich Shuffle because the above delays the Munich Agreement and that reshuffles the sequence of many of the events of 1938-1942. Some of this will be direct consequences of the POD, some will be the butterfly effect. Where bad luck or some thin chain of circumstance worked against the British the chain will often be broken and the luck reversed, so yes, it’s a britwank. It is also very much a draft, though its a complete draft so I won’t be running out of updates halfway through, please do point out mistakes, gaffes, and anywhere you think I could improve it. If you enjoy it, tell your friends. If you hate, tell your enemies...

 

[Garrison]

September 20th – 6th October 1938 – Britain - Recovery​

After several days of obstruction from Chamberlain’s doctors, and much political haggling in Westminster, a delegation was finally dispatched to meet with the Prime Minister. The party consisted of the Foreign Secretary Lord Halifax, the Chairman of the 1922 Committee Hugh O'Neill, and Herbert Morrison Deputy Leader of the Labour Party. This trio was not dispatched merely to relay the messages from Parliament and the King wishing Chamberlain a speedy recovery, but to address a very simple question, was Neville Chamberlain capable of continuing as Prime Minister of Great Britain or had his mentally faculties been permanently diminished by the accident? The ‘men in grey suits’ of the Conservative Party could be ruthless about such matters, here however they were caught on the horns of a dilemma. With the country teetering on the brink of war and the threat of London being ravaged by Nazi bombers they were inclined to be cautious. No one after all wanted to find themselves accused of being responsible for such carnage

In short order the delegation concluded, possibly reluctantly, that Chamberlain was fully compos mentis and not planning to simply surrender the reins of power at a moment when the peace of Europe hung in the balance. Chamberlain did concede that responsibility for domestic matters would have to be left in the hands of the cabinet while he remained hospitalized, though it was notable that he did not name anyone to act as his formal deputy. Until Chamberlain’s return cabinet meetings were usually chaired by the Chancellor of the Exchequer Sir John Simon and the looming spectre of the Sudeten Crisis dissuaded those with ambitions to occupy No. 10 from making any power plays.

Chamberlain was adamant on one point, that decisions relating to the Sudetenland crisis would remain in his hands. Lord Halifax was unsurprised by this, having previously made it clear that he was unhappy about the concessions Chamberlain was proposing to make to Germany[1]. He was content to keep his hands clean on the matter, and he certainly tried to take advantage of Chamberlain’s absence to build up support for his position. In later accounts of this meeting Halifax stated he saw signs of a change in Chamberlain even at this early point, that his determination to see things through in his negotiations with Hitler had taken on a darker tone. Since these thoughts were only committed to paper after Chamberlain’s death from cancer in 1940, they may represent nothing more than the benefit of hindsight.

This decision to carry on was deeply disappointing to Chamberlain’s wife Anne, who was firmly of the opinion that her husband had given more than enough for his country and should now pass the burden to someone else. Privately Chamberlain did not reject this idea out of hand, instead insisting that he could not do so until the country was safe, and the looming clouds of war dispersed, which begged the question of how that happy circumstance was to be brought about?

The day after the visit by the delegation Chamberlain dictated a series of telegrams from his hospital bed to Berlin, Rome and Paris, even now the Czechs were not offered the courtesy of being invited to discuss the disposition of their own territory. Each telegram was tailored to its audience, but each called for the resumption of talks as soon as Chamberlain was fit to travel and concluded with the same words, ‘if men of sound character are willing to negotiate in good faith the peace of Europe can be preserved’ [2]. This turn of phrase caused some eye-rolling in Westminster, and Paris for that matter. Again, with hindsight it is possible to see a barb hidden in the platitudes, what after all if some of the parties involved were not ‘men of sound character’?

In Rome Mussolini preened over Chamberlain’s telegram which implored him to continue in his role attempting to bring all parties together to negotiate. In practice Rome had little say in the events that unfolded over the following weeks, the final decision between peace and war was to be made in Berlin.

The Nazi leadership in Berlin was gripped by fear and frustration and frustration at this moment. The fear was amongst those desperately trying to persuade Hitler that war over the Sudetenland was ‘premature’ and their ranks included Hermann Goering himself who may not have been interested in the day to day running of the German war industries regardless of his position at the head of the Four Year Plan committee, but he was well aware that Germany was not yet ready for war. Numerous reports and memos were sent to Hitler from all quarters, fully agreeing with the Fuhrer’s ultimate aims, ‘but…’

Some senior officers were sufficiently alarmed about the prospect of a catastrophic declaration of war that they were actively plotting the overthrow of the Fuhrer. They had even tried to persuade the British to support them and some sources have them as the origin of the claims that Chamberlain’s plane had been sabotaged, launching the seemingly endless conspiracy theories covering everything from mysterious men boarding Chamberlain’s plane prior to take off to Nazi secret weapons that somehow struck the aircraft when it was over England. Regardless the plotters were dismissed in London as lacking credibility and given the way they scattered at the first sign of trouble it is hard to argue with this assessment.

The frustration in Berlin was all Hitler’s. He was being bombarded from all sides with pleas from ‘weak-willed’ subordinates who failed to understand the necessity of war sooner rather than later and then the negotiations he had reluctantly agreed to had been put on hold by the accident at Hendon. He largely greeted Chamberlain’s telegram with contempt, except the words about ‘men of sound character’ which had resonated with Hitler, if not in the way Chamberlain had intended. The Adolf Hitler of 1938 had not consolidated the cult of personality that would crush dissent in later years, and he still retained some slender grip on reality, enough that he understood that the German people were anything but enthusiastic for war. If war was to come as Hitler intended, and having been drawn into the peace talks in the first place, then the blame would have to be firmly pinned on those foreign powers determined to keep Germany from assuming its rightful place. It must be seen by everyone that it was those foreign powers that left Germany no choice but to fight. The man who craved the tempering fire of war wanted to be seen by all the world as a thwarted peacemaker. It was a futile hope but no one in Berlin was going to tell Hitler that.

Added to this concern with public opinion was the fact that despite his derision for those who argued against war Hitler was forced to accept that there were practical considerations that worked against an immediate declaration. This did not mean that he decided against war, he simply decided to hedge his bets and pursue a two-pronged approach to achieve his objectives. First, he would accept a further round of negotiations on the clear understanding that they be final and lead to a resolution ‘satisfactory to all German people’ [2]. The second decision was to demand a redoubling of efforts to make the Wehrmacht ready for a ‘swift, decisive, strike to seize the Sudetenland and destroy the unnatural entity that is Czechoslovakia once and for all’ [2] if such a resolution proved impossible to reach, which was precisely what Hitler expected to happen.

[1] It seems that Halifax was not happy about Chamberlain’s efforts at Munich, not enough to resign though and he certainly seemed to swing back the other way after Dunkirk.

[2] Invented quote.

 

[Garrison]

October 20th – November 4th 1938 – Germany - Kristallnacht​

Late October spelt the end for the dismal crowd of conspirators plotting the overthrow of Hitler. The postponement of military action against the Czechs had robbed them of much of their momentum and with time to contemplate the potential consequences of failure many of the plotters were doing their level best to backpedal on whatever commitments they might have made. The final straw for the potential coup came when a remark by Hitler was passed to one of the prime movers in the conspiracy, General Halder, ‘I know the spirit of Zossen, and I will crush it once and for all’. Hitler was referring to what he saw as the defeatist attitudes of the Oberkommando des Heeres (OKH) the Army High Command. To Halder it was obvious Hitler knew something and he panicked and destroyed all his documents on or around the 25th of October. Even had Halder not panicked at this moment it is questionable whether the military officers, who had sworn an oath of allegiance to the Fuhrer, would really have had the will to do what would have been required to overthrow Hitler.

Those outside the circles of the plotters who had been warning of a premature war had been relieved at the postponement of hostilities brought about by Chamberlain’s plea and with fresh negotiations not due to take place until mid-November the argument was being put forward that the winter weather would probably hinder Luftwaffe operations and military action against the Czechs might have to be postponed until Spring. This would also allow time for further efforts to persuade the Poles to support an attack in pursuit of their own territorial claims and to exploit the ethnic divisions inside Czechoslovakia. Hitler remained unwaveringly belligerent; he would brook no delays beyond those necessitated by the final round of negotiations unless they fulfilled all his demands.

This led to some of those opposed to immediate war to try a different approach, or rather return to a well-worn one, blaming the Jews. Specifically in this case the proponents of this line of argument claimed that it was the Jews who were inciting the British and French into a more belligerent stance to provoke war [1]. It was a transparent ploy that had been tried before, but in the aftermath of Hendon and the rumours about sabotage now swirling around Berlin a new variant was put forward. The mysterious saboteurs were part of a Jewish cabal who intended to assassinate Chamberlain, blame Germany for it, and precipitate war when the Reich’s preparations were incomplete. This argument did nothing to sway Hitler from his pursuit of war, instead it provoked a horrifying tragedy by providing Hitler with an excuse to vent his pent-up frustration and anger at the continual delays to his plans for the Czechs. On the 1st of November he made the speech that ignited the horrors of Kristallnacht [2]. Between the 1st and 3rd of November hundreds of Jews were murdered and businesses laid waste. In the aftermath Goering would express his distaste for the whole event, not because of the death toll but because of the cost of making good the damage to properties that the Nazi’s had planned to confiscate.

The British embassy in Berlin was inundated with reports of murder, assault, arson, and rape from every corner of Germany. These reports were easily confirmed as the Nazi’s revelled in their barbarism, they wanted everyone to see how the ‘treacherous Jews’ were dealt with. The reports made their way to London by diplomatic dispatch and were soon in the hands of the Cabinet. By this point Chamberlain had been transferred to a convalescent home in the Kent countryside. He had made a steady recovery and seemed to be adjusting well though not without some periods of despondency, which was hardly unexpected in the circumstances, and it had been decided that the best therapy for this was allowing a gradual return to his responsibilities as PM. This took the form of visits from his staff and cabinet members to brief him and relay his wishes to London. The number of memos and notes emanating from Kent was in fact becoming a source of exasperation in Whitehall, though it did help to quell any ongoing speculation about his fitness to continue in office.

On the evening of the 3rd a hastily convened party was dispatched to meet with Chamberlain, trying to get to him before he learned of events in Germany through press reports. This group included several members of the diplomatic and intelligence services, though not Halifax who seems to have been bypassed in this instance. Chamberlain’s reaction to the awful accounts of what had been unleashed seemed to be one of sadness rather than anger, almost as if he were in mourning. He gave no hint that evening of how he intended to respond to what seemed unequivocal proof that Adolf Hitler was not a ‘man of sound character’ and that the German people seemed to have eagerly embraced his call to violence. The only certainty on the evening of the 3rd was that with the rearranged meeting with Hitler barely three weeks away Chamberlain would have to respond, and quickly.

[1] Yes, they really did try that in OTL, here they just work in the accident to give the appearance of more substance.

[2] |You can assume that with minor changes for the inciting event this is pretty much the same speech as OTL.

 

[Garrison]

November 4th – November 12th 1938 – Britain - A change of Heart or a Change of Tactics?​

Halifax had risen early on the 4th, there had been an avalanche of diplomatic traffic in response to grim events in Germany, with Prague, Rome, Paris, Washington, and of course Berlin all attempting to put their own imprint on the appropriate response to Kristallnacht. Only Moscow remained silent on the matter, putting out not so much as a communique. The Czech government naturally felt this display of butchery should put an end to any negotiations with berlin over their territory. They had not been formally briefed on the concessions offered to Hitler thus far, however they were hardly a secret by this point. Berlin’s messages were full of bravado and threats, there was no attempt to downplay or dismiss what had happened, they characterized Kristallnacht as, ‘an outpouring of righteous anger by the German people against the Jews who have greedily sought to exploit them and sabotage the recovery of the nation’ [1]. The notes also made it clear that the British should not use this outpouring as an excuse to delay the resolution of the Sudeten matter. There had also been any number of messages from domestic sources offering wholly unsolicited advice. These ranged from messages that could best be summed up as ‘I told you so’ to those insisting that not one drop of British blood should be shed in the name of protecting the Jews.

Faced with all of this Halifax’s intent was to try and catch up with the existing messages before any fresh waves arrived. His plans were disrupted by a completely unexpected phone call, direct from the Prime Minister himself. Chamberlain cut through the usual pleasantries, he would be leaving hospital that day and expected to hold a cabinet meeting in the evening at Downing Street. Chamberlain refused to provide any details of what the agenda of this meeting would be. That Chamberlain had bypassed the usual channels to speak with Halifax, and several other senior members of the cabinet as Halifax was soon able to establish, spoke volumes.

After the call ended Halifax later admitted he was on the verge of panic, for it was not only in Berlin that people had been plotting behind their leaders back. In London the plotting had been done in the smoky backrooms of Westminster and had been aimed at constraining Chamberlain’s freedom of action over the Sudetenland rather than removing him from office. The opportunity for replacing Chamberlain seemed to have passed and Halifax knew the party would not reward anyone seen to have plunged the knife into the Prime Minister’s back. Many backbenchers had proven sympathetic to the idea that Chamberlain had already gone far enough in offer, but almost universally raised the issue of whether the country was really prepared to go to war for the Czechs? And what would the French do?

This was an excellent question. Despite condemning German actions publicly, they had made it very clear privately that they were simply going to follow Chamberlain’s lead. His absence had already offered them the chance to take the lead and they had done nothing, except dodge the attempts of the Czechs to pin them down to their treaty commitments. The reality was that whatever Prime Minister Daladier might feel personally about taking harder line with Germany in the absence of a firm commitment to action by the British he would not be able to rally the political support to do so.

It was hardly surprising in the circumstance that Halifax approached the cabinet meeting with trepidation, fearing that perhaps the Prime Minister had learned of his action and intended to use the meeting to demand resignations from those who had proven disloyal. Chamberlain arrived with little fanfare, waving away the inevitable congratulations at his swift recovery. Seated at the table Chamberlain further eschewed any preliminaries and went to the heart of the matter, Britain’s policy towards Nazi Germany and the state of the nation’s defences. He spoke at length but the gist of it could be summed up by Chamberlain’s remark based on his earlier telegrams, “Recent events in Germany have demonstrated that Herr Hitler is not a man of sound character and our hopes for peace cannot rest on his goodwill.” [1] In essence the violence of Kristallnacht had proven that what had been assumed to be overblown rhetoric on the part of Hitler must be taken as matters of fact. Even if an understanding were reached over the Sudetenland, Chamberlain now conceded, it seemed all but inevitable that Hitler would continue his demands over Poland and Alsace-Lorraine. “I have been driven by the desire to spare this country from the terrible consequences of war, to avoid any repeat of the horrors of the Great War. However, I am now compelled to remember that when war came in 1914 British soldiers were dispatched to Europe without the means necessary to meet the enemy on an equal footing. We must continue to work for peace, but we must extend our preparations beyond the aerial defence of the realm and control of the seas. We shall have to disburse more funds than we had previously planned and consult with the services on the most immediate priorities, especially those of the army.” [1]

Winston Churchill was of course not privy to the meeting, but when details of it nonetheless reached him, he shook his head solemnly and said, “I consider myself a student of history, and yet I was not aware that the road to Damascus passed through Hendon Aerodrome.” [1]

Halifax was both bemused and pleased by this ‘conversion’. However, he made no immediate response to Chamberlain’s announcement, “I said nothing, I was not displeased at this apparent change of heart, but I feared that there would be a price to be paid for it.” [1]

The Foreign Secretary was right to be apprehensive as Chamberlain pressed on, “The one commodity I can guarantee the military will demand is the one that no increase in budget can provide, and that is time. Enough time to make good whatever deficits they may identify and make ready should all else fail and only the naked threat of force is left to us. There is only one way to procure that commodity. With a heavy heart I have concluded I must attend the talks with Herr Hitler and make whatever concessions are necessary to quiet his appetite, at least for long enough to strengthen our military powers both defensive and offensive.” [1]

Halifax’s diaries recounted the dilemma that faced him, “I could have railed against the time already wasted, I could have resigned in protest at offering to ‘feed the beast’. The problem was that none of that would have changed the reality that if the Prime Minister was now committed to using the negotiations in Munich to buy us the opportunity to arm ourselves against the potential threat to peace from the regime in Berlin how could I refuse to support him?” [1]

This sentiment seems to have been broadly shared in the cabinet, with a few notable exceptions who still clung to the notion that appeasement alone could win the day. Their position was adamantly rejected by Chamberlain, who after all had been the man who had done all he could to pursue that policy and had now clearly concluded it had reached its limit. And so the price for Chamberlain abandoning his grand ambitions for European peace and preparing the nation for the possibility of dispatching a British army to the continent for the second time in 20 years would be paid by the people of Czechoslovakia.

Even as the politicians were acquiescing to the doom of Czechoslovakia others were working to save at least rescue some from the tyranny of the Nazi’s. The Kindertransport was a plan to evacuate thousands, if not tens of thousands of Jewish children to the UK and place them with British families. It would be a terrible thing for the families faced with giving up their children, given the choices facing them however many were willing to accept. The plan was embraced with enthusiasm in Britain and the first child refugees were arriving within weeks of Kristallnacht. This bright moment of decency was perhaps only a small thing compared to the grubby politics that was being discussed, but it would play an indirect role in hardening Chamberlain’s newfound belligerence.

[1] Invented quotes

 

[Garrison]

November 18th – 3rd December – The Final Meeting in Munich​

Preparations for the forthcoming Munich conference may have proceeded apace in London but in Berlin Hitler was utterly uninterested in the diplomatic niceties, either Chamberlain would acknowledge that the Sudetenland was Germany’s or there would be war and this time he would not brook any more talk of delays. The condemnations emanating from London, Paris, and Washington in the aftermath of Kristallnacht had only served to fuel his determination to have the Sudeten matter settled to his satisfaction and since he doubted the British would be willing to concede to his demands, he was certain that war would finally come, with the British and French firmly blamed for it by Goebbels’ propaganda machine. This made many of his cronies unhappy but the impetus for any sort of resistance was long gone and no one was willing to risk acting as a lightning rod for the Fuhrer’s wrath by pressing the case against immediate war any harder. Those fearful of war could only hope for some miracle at Munich and prepare as best they could for the seemingly inevitable order to execute Fall Grün (Case Green), the plan for the invasion of Czechoslovakia.

In Paris the reaction to Chamberlain’s plan was ambivalent at best. No one had really expected the British to take a stand to stop the annexation of the Sudetenland, so it would have been hard for anyone to claim to have been surprised by Chamberlain’s stance and while Daladier and a few others may have been disappointed by it no one was proposing to strike on their own and extend any further guarantees to the Czechs or threaten Berlin. In the simplest terms the leadership in Paris was not willing to act unless they were assured of British support and nothing in the new developments coming out of London offered that assurance. The decision to accelerate British rearmament might have been expected to be welcomed by French political and military leaders, however the latter in particular were dismissive of it, even when the details were clarified post Munich. As far as General Maurice Gamelin, Chief of the General Staff of the French Army, was concerned at best the British might be able to offer up a token force like the BEF of 1914 with the brunt of any continental conflict falling on the French army and this assumed that they saw this plan through. In simplest terms Gamelin opined that the only British force that France could count on if war came was the Royal Navy, for the rest they would have to look to their own resources. The sense that Chamberlain’s plans amounted to a desperate effort to play catch up also helped quash any ideas that France should match the proposed increases in military expenditure by the British. Overall then the French reaction was to watch and wait to see what the British actually did rather than what they said they were going to do.

In London the one unresolved issue, that was being openly discussed at least, was would Chamberlain fly to the conference? It was entirely understandable that he might have wished to avoid air travel, Hitler though was adamant on the timing of the conference and any other mode of travel would simply be too slow. An investigation into the Hendon crash had established that the model of aircraft in question had a dubious safety record. Alternatives were arranged and the decision rested with Chamberlain. He chose to travel by air, and departed from Hendon on the 18th, cheered on by a crowd of well-wishers. Chamberlain had in fact been bombarded with messages expressing support for his peace-making efforts, if this outpouring of support made Chamberlain’s newfound resolve waiver it would be solidified by Hitler’s conduct during the conference.

Questions might have been raised about more than Chamberlain’s travel arrangements had his full intentions been known publicly. As tempting as it may have been for some parties to leak the details and undercut Chamberlain’s position there was the fear that doing so might lead to war rather than preventing one and any faint hope of avoiding throwing the Czechs under the bus rested on Hitler thinking the British might take military action if he pushed his demands too far. Even the most ardent critics of Chamberlain were not aware of how grossly the strength of the Wehrmacht had been overestimated and were not willing to call for a policy that might precipitate war while Britain’s air defences were still being built up.

What took place between Chamberlain and Hitler in Munich [1] was less a negotiation than a series of bombastic lectures delivered by Hitler interspersed with threats of the dire consequences if Germany’s ‘territorial rights continued to be trampled on’. Chamberlain did his best to show restraint and tried to link the matter of the Sudetenland to larger issues of European peace. Even if he had lost hope for any larger settlement of issues, he was honour bound to try and wrest some concessions from Hitler. It may also have been a matter of making sure that no one at home could argue that he had not tried his utmost to constrain Hitler’s demands while pursuing peace if it could possibly be obtained and that his efforts in this regard be preserved for posterity. In this, as in so much else at Munich, his efforts were doomed to failure.

Hitler was having none of Chamberlain’s prevarication, he insisted he would not concede any part of Germany’s ‘natural territory’ and peace could only be guaranteed once Germany was whole again. All the while he was hoping that Chamberlain would say no and abandon the negotiations, giving Hitler the pretext for war he so desperately sought. Perhaps the only success Chamberlain could claim at Munich, though he was not to know it at the time, was thwarting Hitler’s short-term goals by conceding everything the Fuhrer had demanded, the Czechs would howl at the betrayal but both Britain and France would make it clear after Munich that if they resisted, they would stand alone.

Hitler was stunned by this and angry at being backed into a corner, he could hardly go back to Berlin and explain he had rejected a treaty that gave him everything he had asked for, especially not with so many senior figures in the Reich government and the Wehrmacht wringing their hands about a war with the Czechs being premature. He was in effect cornered and would soon enough convince himself that he had been somehow tricked by Chamberlain. Perhaps it was a desire to vent his frustration, and make the British see sense about the Jewish problem him that led him to veer off on a tangent and lambast Chamberlain about of all things the Kindertransport plan. Hitler was happy enough to see the back of the children, nits made lice after all, however he could not comprehend the ‘English’ letting them into the heart of their empire. Surely there was some desolate corner of the world that could be found for them? Perhaps that would the best solution for all the Jews, Hitler opined, to send them off to some place far removed from civilization to live out their worthless lives without being able to work their malign influence.

Chamberlain was appalled but maintained an air of calm asked the obvious, what if they did not wish to go? What if some nations did not want to expel their Jews? Hitler’s response was emphatic, if any nation were so weak willed then Germany would be happy to lend its strength and if the Jews tried to resist then the consequences would be their own fault, they must be expunged from Germany, Europe, the world, one way or another. Was this perhaps an attempt to goad Chamberlain into reneging on his concessions? More likely it was simply Hitler’s inability to understand how his ‘practical advice’, would provoke horror in anyone who possessed even a shred of decency. The conference ended shortly after with the signing of the agreement. Chamberlain allegedly told a member of his party, ‘if I had possessed a gun rather than a pen, I might have shot Herr Hitler on the spot’ [2].

[1] Not going into great details about the agreement or the nitty gritty of the discussion as except for the exceptions mentioned above its as per OTL.

[2] A made up quote, though it might make an interesting alternate, alternate itself if Chamberlain snapped and tried to assault Hitler during the meetings…

 

[Garrison]

December 5th – December 30th - Britain - A Modest Call to Arms​

Even as work had progressed on preparations for the Munich Conference parallel preparations were under way to address the priorities that the Army had agreed upon. It had not taken a great deal of discussion as the needs of the army in the event an intervention in Europe was called for had been the subject of much internal debate among senior officers even when it seemed a forlorn hope that their political masters would ever permit their ideas to be put into effect. Paramount amongst the needs put to the Prime Minister was addressing the lack of trained manpower needed to flesh out any new British Expeditionary force and provide for ample reserves and the possibility of having to engage in action in other parts of the Empire. The answer to this was the Military Training Bill, under the terms of the bill young men of 20-21 years of age would be called up for a six-month period of military training. In a rather odd attempt to distance this recruitment from the regular army a provision was made that each recruit would be issued with a suit as well as uniform. Before and during Chamberlain’s trip to Germany there had been considerably political arm twisting to ensure that the usual ‘awkward squad’ on the back benches didn’t make a fuss and the Labour leadership had been quietly briefed to persuade them to line up behind the proposals, with an additional concession being made in offering higher wages for any man who volunteered for the services and was not covered by the other provisions of the bill. The Military Training Bill would be announced during Chamberlain’s speech on the outcome of Munich, and such was the quality of the groundwork laid by the party whips that it passed through both houses relatively smoothly with only a few recalcitrants on both sides of the House alternately deploring the bill or claiming it was too little too late. The first cadre would find themselves called up under the provisions of the Military Training Act just after Boxing Day 1938. There would also be efforts to encourage recruitment and training in the White Dominions and India, but this would be a more complex matter.

The decision to substantially increase the army’s equipment budget also prompted some grumbling, though again it did little to stop the passage of the changes. Although they would not the largest single beneficiary in financial terms, that honour lay with small arms and artillery, it was the Army’s tanks that would be the most visible symbol of the new dispensation. The bulk of the armour in service at the time was made up of the Mark VI B Light Tank [1]. Introduced in 1936 its main armament was a 50 calibre machine gun, and its armour was thin to put it mildly, though it did have a relatively high top speed of 35mph, or 25mph off road. In short it was a tank well suited to putting down insurrection in the far-flung corners of the Empire. As a paper put forward by Lord Gort, Chief of the Imperial General Staff (CIGS), candidly admitted however, ‘if forced to confront the powerful armoured formations possessed by the European powers then the Mk VI is likely to prove inadequate’ [2].

The quickest solution was to increase production of the Cruiser III (and later the Cruiser IV a modified version with additional armour) with a view to reequipping those formations currently operating the Mk VI, especially those that might be deployed as part of any future Expeditionary Force [3]. At the same time, the army also needed more of the heavy Infantry tanks if they were to operate against peer armies in Europe. This inevitably meant increasing the laggardly production of the Matilda II [4], but it also meant that the decision was taken to push the Valentine tank into production [5]. The War Office had been dubious about the turret design as they felt a three-man turret crew was mandatory where the Valentine turret accommodated two. However, given the prospect of the tank being simpler (and cheaper) to produce than the Matilda II the War office finally approved the design, with first full production models slated for delivery in December 1939.

One other tank was also prioritized at this time, one which has a distinctly lesser reputation than either the Matilda II or Valentine, the Covenanter Cruiser tank [6]. This design was intended as a complement to the Cruiser III/IV. It had run unfortunately run into serious issues with its cooling radiators, meaning that it was questionable whether it was suitable for operations in places like India or the Middle East. With the new priorities, and production lines for the Covenanter already being put in place, the decision was taken to press ahead as vigorously as with the other tanks and while efforts to improve the cooling situation never produced a truly satisfactory solution this didn’t stop it from entering service or from seeing combat, though its combat career would be short compared to its contemporaries.

The Army was also able to use the increased funding and changed priorities to win an argument with the RAF. The Covenanter was intended to use Aluminium wheels rather than steel, saving weight and reducing power demands on the engine, which in turn would ameliorate the cooling issue. The RAF had been adamant they needed all the Aluminium available for their programs. As many had suspected this had more to do with interservice rivalry than any genuine problem and once the decision was made that the Covenanter would retain its Aluminium wheels the RAF proved more than capable of finding solutions to the probably non-existent issue.

One other unusual beneficiary of the change in priorities was a vehicle designed for the scouting role that the mark VI B had also been expected to fulfil. The vehicle was probably the finest armoured vehicle produced by the British in this period, and perhaps inevitably it was an unarmed scout, the ‘Daimler Dingo’ [7]. The vehicle would continue in service until 1952, being coveted by officer and other ranks alike. In service it proved highly effective, if often driven in an alarming manner on and off road.

Overall, these changes would prove valuable in time, in the short term they did little to shore up Chamberlain’s personal standing. Those who had supported peace at all costs saw it as a betrayal and even those who supported the proposals claimed his hand had been forced by events. Ironically this latter attack rather insulated Chamberlain from threats to his leadership, particularly since he had made the cabinet at least partly culpable by drawing them into his plans before Munich, no senior member of the government could claim to have clean hands at this point. Labour seemed to have decided to pull their punches to a degree, fearing that any Conservative replacement would be even worse than Chamberlain and the opportunity to have their say in who occupied No. 10 lay in the future. Some have pinned the slow, inexorable decline in Chamberlain to this moment rather than the accident at Hendon Aerodrome. As much as he might have wished to follow his wife’s pleas and lay down the burden Chamberlain felt compelled to see things through to the bitter end [8].

His opposite number was equally unhappy about the current situation, for very different reasons.

[1] The Covenanter is usually classed as the worst British tank, but it was not as ill suited to the conditions of WWII as the MK VI B.

[2] Invented quote

[3] The Cruiser IV served well in the early part of the North African campaign but suffered in France by being rushed into service, here less rushed for whatever conflict it may be deployed in.

[4] There will be more than 2 of them available in September 1939 and as side note I loved playing this when in World of Tanks when it was top tier, and everything just pinged off it.

[5] IOTL they hesitated over committing to the Valentine until April 1939 and yet it proved itself in service in the desert and had one other advantage over the Matilda II besides greater reliability in that it could be upgunned.

[6] Well they can’t all be good decisions. At one point I was going to have the project cancelled, but I was persuaded that given the production lines had already been set up so they would go ahead, and I have slightly improved it by sticking with the original lighter wheels.

[7] I can’t really do the Dingo justice here, but the Wikipedia page is well worth a read. The army loved this vehicle:

Daimler Dingo - Wikipedia

[8] Yes a very tank heavy post, I felt the need to indulge myself after all the politics!

 

[Garrison]

December 5th – December 30th - Germany - War Postponed​

The outcome of the Munich conference had as previously mentioned left Hitler angry and somewhat bemused as to how he had been denied his war by the ‘wily’ Chamberlain. The sense he had been tricked simply stiffened his resolve that the agreement had only postponed the destruction of Czechoslovakia. He remained determined that Czechoslovakia be removed from the map as soon as possible. German representatives in Bratislava were already working to foment secessionist sentiment among the Slovaks, finding a ready audience with the likes of Józef Tiso [1], who would become the leader of the breakaway Slovak Republic and collaborate with the Nazis in imposing their racial policies in Slovak territory. Far from rallying around the Czechs its neighbours were already pressing their own territorial claims, with Poland going so far as to invade Czechoslovakia on the 28th of December and seizing what they called the Zaolzie territory. Hitler had reason to hope that this might lead the Poles to accept German overtures for an alliance, though these hopes would be dashed in short order, the Poles were not about to tie themselves to Nazi Germany so long as it laid claim to Polish territory.

As it happened Hitler’s demands for the dissolution of Czechoslovakia by force as soon as possible provoked none of the anxiety, or scheming, it had in September for several reasons. Firstly, The Munich Agreement had physically stripped away the Czech border defences. Secondly internal tensions meant it was unlikely Czechoslovakia could even muster the whole of its army if they did decide to contest an invasion. Thirdly, and most importantly, the agreement proved that the British and the French would not go to war over Czech sovereignty. Able to launch attacks from multiple fronts against a country in disarray OKH was confident the Wehrmacht could occupy Czechoslovakia without unduly straining their limited resources. Goering jovially voiced the opinion that the mere threat of unleashing the Luftwaffe’s bombers on Prague would be more than enough to bring them to their knees.

When news of the passage of the MTA and the new military procurement plans reached Berlin Hitler presented a public face of being unimpressed by these actions, dismissing them as ‘window dressing’ designed to bolster ‘English’ morale and of no practical consequence, Britain was first and foremost a naval power after all and its army was insignificant. Behind closed doors it was a very different matter. Hitler was convinced that Munich had been nothing but a ploy by the British to play for time and address the inadequacies of their armed forces. By resisting his calls for an immediate move against the Czechs his subordinates had played into Chamberlain’s hands, and he made his displeasure crystal clear in a series of bruising meetings with von Brauchitsch, Halder and other staff officers. His response to the increased funding for the British forces was to demand an increase in Germany’s own armaments production that would dwarf anything the British could achieve, in the short term at least.

The branches of the Wehrmacht duly obliged with grandiose plans that did indeed put Chamberlain’s proposal in the shade. The Heer’s plan call for more artillery and more ammunition first and foremost, increasing tank production was certainly included but it was not regarded as a critical priority. The overwhelming bulk of the tanks in the German arsenal were the Panzer I and Panzer II Light Tanks. The former being another machine gun armed vehicle, though arguably a better machine than the MK VI B Light. The Panzer II was a more powerful machine with a 20mm cannon; however it was still regarded as an intermediate machine and the role of fighting other tanks was intended to be filled by the Panzer III, early models of which was already in production, but with only a few dozen completed by the end of 1938. The Panzer IV had also entered production and despite later better armed, models proving highly effective against other tanks later it was intended purely as an infantry support vehicle in 1938 and was only equipped with a short barrelled 75mm howitzer [2].

For the Luftwaffe Goering offered up bombastic plans for the construction of thousands of Ju 88 bombers alongside the proven Bf 109 single engine fighter and the Bf 110 twin engine fighter, the latter intended to serve as a long-range bomber escort. Neither the Bf 110 [3] nor the Ju 88 [4] would live up to the expectations placed upon them when they entered combat, but in 1938 they were both seen as key in improving the capabilities of the Luftwaffe, which fell far short of the dire predictions circulating in London.

The Kriegsmarine certainly proposed building more U-Boats, though priority remained with the creation of a powerful surface fleet. Admiral Raeder essentially ignored the clear warning from the Sudetenland Crisis that any notion of war being postponed until the mid-1940’s was simply unrealistic. That Raeder’s stuck to his plans probably reflected Hitler’s enthusiasm for large surface ships and the fear that if Raeder expressed any doubts about their utility, well then the funds allocated to the Kriegsmarine programs might be reallocated to the Heer and the Luftwaffe rather than being used for U-Boats and more practical surface ships.

As dramatic and ominous as these targets for thousand of bombers and tanks sounded it was, to quote Shakespeare, ‘all sound and fury signifying nothing’. All of them were doomed by the fundamental economic and resource limitations that had derailed previous nearly identical proposals for rapidly increasing arms production. Above all else the Reich’s steel industry could not meet the demands being placed on it. Civilian production, export industries, new industrial capacity, such as synthetic oil plants, the railways and the building of fortifications all had a call on the available production and while some might airily suggest cuts in the civilian sector the steel used in those industries was not being used to create luxuries for the ordinary German citizen but to make things like stoves and farm tools. Increasing the steel ‘ration’ of the Wehrmacht could only be done at the expense of German families and the exports that raised much needed foreign currency or could be bartered with friendly nations [5].

The industries of the Reich certainly tried to meet Hitler’s demands, they had little choice after all, but they would fall far short. The truth was that the Nazi military machine was reaching the limits of what could be done in a peacetime economy regardless of how ruthlessly the state regulated production and raw material allocation. Germany’s enemies could ramp up their rearmament and overtake Germany if they wished to do so, and the evidence from London and Paris suggested that was exactly what they intended to do. Sooner or later whatever advantages the Wehrmacht might enjoy would be eroded and this prospect increasingly weighed on Hitler’s mind.

[1] Short bio of Tiso here:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jozef_Tiso

[2] The Wehrmacht proved remarkably stubborn about sticking with this separation of functions even though to the casual observer their similarities were far more pronounced than their differences.

[3] The Bf 110 would later prove to be an effective night fighter but as a daylight bomber escort it proved a failure when faced with modern single engine fighters. Efforts to replace it were undertaken but the Me 210 suffered serious issues that rendered them death traps.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Messerschmitt_Me_210

[4] The Ju 88 was supposed the be the schnellbomber the Luftwaffe so desperately wanted, but by the time it entered service fighter evolution had overtaken it and combined with early technical issues it was a severe disappointment during its early deployments.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Junkers_Ju_88

[5] I can’t come close to doing justice to the topic of the Nazi economy and some of you can already guess which book I am going to suggest for further reading if you really want to understand the subject:

Wages of Destruction

 

[Garrison]

14th March – 10th April 1939 – The End of Czechoslovakia​

There has been much speculation that Neville Chamberlain was planning to step down some time in the Spring of 1939, largely based on anecdotes reported by his family. According to these accounts he intended to depart once his measures were sufficiently embedded that no successor could undo them. It would a brave Prime Minister who announced that the thousands of skilled craftsmen who had returned to gainful employment after years on the breadline were to be cast back into poverty in the name of an ideal of peace that seemed increasingly fanciful. There was also the matter of who would be chosen to be the new Prime Minister in the event Chamberlain did step down.

The same sources that claim Chamberlain intended to step down also state that he was hoping to rebuild enough political capital that he would have decisive say in who became PM and continue to exercise some influence over the direction of future policy. These stories are not implausible, but they are not supported by any records of conversations with Chamberlain by his political allies nor anything he chose to commit to paper, and there are conflicting accounts of who he would have supported since relations between Chamberlain and Halifax had cooled considerably, ‘I rather suspected Neville had discovered my machinations before Munich, however he never mentioned it directly and I could hardly ask him outright in case he remained ignorant and there was some other factor at work.’ Halifax wrote [1]. Whatever plans Chamberlain might have had for paving the way to standing down would be left in tatters as Hitler was finally able to bring his desire for the dissolution of Czechoslovakia, though again he would be denied a war by the final collapse of the Czech’s will to resist.

The dismemberment of Czechoslovakia had a certain inevitability to it after Munich. tripped of their border defences, riven by internal divisions the Czech president had no choice but to travel to Berlin to negotiate with Hitler on the 14th of March, though negotiation played no part in the proceedings. Ultimatums were the order of the day and President Hácha collapsed in the face of threats that Prague would be subject to Luftwaffe bombing raids if he did not comply with Hitler’s demands, it seemed Goering’s boast had come true, this time. Hácha had suffered a major heart attack and died on the 22nd [2]. This tragedy did nothing to postpone German demands and the remains of the Czech government had no choice but to submit to Hitler’s will. Wehrmacht troops marched into Czechoslovakia on the 15th of March. On the 16th Hitler travelled to Prague and declared the German protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia.

In London, this event provoked little surprise. Even as the British government had offered loans and the astonishing offer of an outright gift of several million pounds to Czechoslovakia in February the country had crumbled, Slovak rebellion and German pressure were simply too great to overcome for a country disheartened by what they saw, not unfairly, as a betrayal at Munich. The occupation of Czechoslovakia had a profound effect on British public opinion, this was not a matter of uniting the German people in a single nation, it was conquest plain and simple and demonstrated that Hitler’s promises were worthless.

Chamberlain received the news with a heavy heart, war now seemed inevitable sooner rather than later, given Hitler’s seemingly insatiable appetite for conquest and a newfound determination in Westminster to draw a line in the sand. It was even possible to surmise the pretext Hitler would choose; given his vociferous demands it was all but certain to be the question of Danzig and the Polish Corridor. Britain and France responded by guaranteeing the security of Poland, of course how to persuade Hitler that they were serious this time was another matter, never mind the small matter of how that security was to be maintained if and when Hitler did unleash the Wehrmacht on the Poles.

Extraordinarily even as the Government was formulating their response to the fall of Czechoslovakia the Bank of England blithely informed the Treasury that £5 million pounds of Czech gold was to be transferred to the control of an account controlled by the Reich, as there appeared to be no legal grounds for refusing it. When Chamberlain heard of this he was uncharacteristically acerbic, insisting that if no grounds existed then, ‘one should be created’ [1]. In the face of this response the bank deployed its best legal obfuscations, and the transfer was delayed, indefinitely as it happened. The gold would eventually be returned to the Czech government, in 1991 [3].

At the beginning of April Chamberlain announced an expansion of the MTA. It would now include men 19-22 and as the first cadre was completing training the program would be expected to cope with a substantially larger second wave. Less publicly the armament programs that had been initiated or accelerated after Munich received further ‘encouragement’ to step up production. This was not to say that the post Munich push had not produced results. The first units were converting from the Mark VI Light to the Cruiser IV, the Cruiser III having only been produced in limited numbers before being upgraded with the addition of extra bolt on armour which would be fully incorporated into the hull with the introduction of the Cruiser IV A. Other models were also used in effort to replace as many light tanks as possible, including the Cruiser II, which although deemed to be less desirable than the Cruiser IV had still seen its production increased given the need to reequip. The Covenanter was also about to move into full scale production, the Army having simply decided to line with the deficiencies in the radiator system in the hope it could rectified later by some retrofit. Though no such definitive solution would be forthcoming during Covenanter’s service life the crews who transitioned to it from the Mk VI B would come to regard this temperamental tank as a vast improvement over their previously vehicles, especially after they saw what happened to their luckless comrades who would still have to go into battle in the Mk VI B, the risk of heat stroke being preferable to the alternative.

The first Valentines came off the production line in April and the manufacture of Matilda IIs had increased, though it was still rather plodding. The same increases in output also applied to a myriad of other materiel. Artillery, machine guns, Universal Carriers, fighter planes, warships, etc. After Prague the last budgetary constraints on rearmament were overthrown, but still the question remained, was it enough? Chamberlain faced attacks from all sides. His defenders argued that the fall of Czechoslovakia was inevitable, and the Prime Minister had done his best to conduct a delaying action and make the best use of the time gained by doing so. Many were unconvinced, arguing that Chamberlain’s hand had been forced by circumstances beyond his control and left to his own devices Britain would still have been utterly unprepared. The most vitriolic critics, including Churchill, pointed out that had Chamberlain not been so wedded to appeasement and resisted calls to rearm Britain’s military might have been strong enough that playing for time at Munich would not have been necessary. Overall, the balance of forces in the government left Chamberlain with little choice but to carry on, or at least he seems to have convinced himself that was the case and there was still no was willing to take up the role of Brutus and plunge the knife into Chamberlain’s back.

As predicted in Whitehall Hitler was indeed thinking in terms of Poland as his next victim, the reduction of Czechoslovakia had simply been a prerequisite for that goal and the guarantee from London and Paris had ended any chance that the Poles might align themselves with Berlin. OKH were content for the time being owing to the liquidation of Czechoslovakia delivering them a substantial bounty. The Skoda works would prove a valuable producer of armoured vehicles and there were the seized Czech tanks that would help flesh out the ranks of the Panzer divisions, serving the Reich as the Pz35(t) and Pz38(t) [4]. These tanks would prove especially valuable to the Wehrmacht in the early stages of the war.

Perhaps of even greater significance than the occupation of Prague, though completely unknown at the time to anyone in London or Paris, was a steady thaw in relations between Berlin and Moscow. Formal negotiations were still some way off but both sides were beginning to offer warm words that would lead to an agreement that shocked the world and paved the way to war.

[1] Invented quote.

[2] In OTL Hácha lived, here the butterfly effect claims a victim.

[3] Yes OTL they really did transfer all that gold to Nazi control:

How Bank of England 'helped Nazis sell gold stolen from Czechs'

[4] Links for more details about these tanks

Panzer 35(t)

Panzer 38(t)

 

[Garrison]

1st May – 31st July 1939 – Wasted Time?​

After the Fall of Czechoslovakia, an air of calm soon returned in Europe. This was purely superficial because behind the scenes there was much diplomatic activity and frantic efforts to prepare for a looming conflict, much of which would prove to be futile. As has previously been discussed the grand plans to double and triple German arms production had fallen apart and despite Hitler’s ranting demands there was little to be done about it. In Britain the will to do more was there and unlike Germany the resources to support that will were available, in theory at least. At this point it was the available production capacity that was proving the problem. Building new plant took time and converting factories dedicated to civilian production was not an option to be considered in peace time. So called shadow factories had been created, effectively allowing factories to produce military equipment alongside their civilian output. The effectiveness of the shadow factories varied considerably, but some of them did make useful contributions and laid the groundwork for conversion when war came.

Still the capabilities of the British armed forces were steadily improving. The RAF planned to have withdrawn all remaining Gloster Gladiators from front line service by the end of the year, largely replaced by Hurricanes under the plan in place at the time, and there had been a substantial effort to recruit pilots from among the ranks of the Czechs who had fled the Nazi’s as well as from the Dominions, and indeed from anywhere else people were willing to volunteer. The Navy was looking at steady stream of ships being commissioned across the remainder of 1939, and the first of the new Flower Class Corvettes was expected to commission in January of 1940. The Army might still not have all it wanted in the way of artillery and anti-tank guns, it could though at provide the trained men being provided by the MTA with rifles and light support weapons, there was even a reasonable supply of trucks and carriers to transport them. For the first time in years the army could look to its ability to engage a ‘peer’ enemy with some degree of optimism.

As to the French, Daladier made a flying visit to London on the 23rd of May and the primary purpose of his meeting with Chamberlain was to discuss the ongoing negotiations with the Soviets, aimed at persuading them to support the Polish security guarantee [1]. Given the antipathy expressed by Nazi Germany towards the USSR and Hitler’s candidly expressed desire to seize large parts of it to provide lebensraum for the German people this might not have seemed a difficult task, and indeed many at the time expected such a deal to be forthcoming at any moment in the summer of 1939. In the light of the events of August there has been much criticism of what were seen with hindsight as perfunctory efforts to strike a bargain with Stalin. Certainly, there was none of the shuttle diplomacy at the highest level that had characterized the Sudeten crisis, delegations were dispatched to the USSR by sea and the contrast in urgency between the negotiations with Hitler and Stalin does seem to provide damning evidence that the British let a deal slip through their fingers.

This is to ignore several issues that stood in the way of making a deal that had nothing to do with the sluggish pace of British diplomacy. To begin with there was the fact that from Stalin’s perspective there was little to choose between the different capitalist states, all of whom regarded Communism as a threat to their existence. He feared the intention of the British and French was to use the Red Army as cannon fodder to do their dirty work. There may have been some truth to this, but the British and French were equally concerned that Stalin would exploit their desire for Soviet support to protect Poland to strengthen his hand in Central Europe.

This may have been the most fundamental issue that stood in the way of any agreement. Stalin would expect substantial concessions to be offered for his support and neither Chamberlain nor Daladier were able to acquiesce to Stalin’s known territorial claims on Finland and the Baltic states, and they were certainly not about to offer up any Polish territory. In the end regardless of how energetically the French and British had wooed Stalin they simply could not match the sort of offer that would soon be made by Joachim von Ribbentrop on behalf of Hitler. It must also be borne in mind that the Poles had no desire to have the Red Army ‘defending’ their country, viewing such a plan as an occupation, and not without good reason.

If Poland could not be reinforced from the east the obvious alternative was to strike from the west, launching an assault on Germany itself. Many felt this was a far more attractive option than trying to deal with Stalin, the threat of such an attack being seen as a far greater deterrent to German expansionism than a dubious Soviet intervention. The primary burden for such an attack would inevitably fall on the French, a nation whose senior army officers were still haunted by the cataclysmic losses taken in the name of the doctrine of ‘attaque à outrance’ [2] in World War I. The vast sums spent on the Maginot Line reflected a determination not to repeat the mistakes of the past and encouraging the French to abandon their defences and launch themselves against Hitler’s West Wall was going to take more than warm words from London.

It was this that motivated a series of invitations to have representatives of the French military visit Britain and see that Chamberlain’s talk of rearming and preparing the nation for conflict had been backed up with action and that Britain was prepared to act as a full partner in any conflict against Germany, albeit still a junior partner. Daladier was certainly happy to endorse such invitations, believing stronger ties with the British could only be of benefit to France if it came to war with Germany. Gamelin however saw things differently. He could hardly turn down the invitations, nor avoid making a reciprocal offer, however he made it clear that his duties meant that he personally could not travel to Britain. At Daladier’s insistence he did select a delegation from among his staff and duly dispatched them to Britain. If the British hoped that the delegation would act as a conduit to communicate with Gamelin they were to be sorely disappointed.

Lord Gort had issued clear instructions that all questions put by the French delegation on technical and tactical matters were to be answered as fully as possible, those relating to strategy or policy were to be referred to the CIGS, Gort would consult with Chamberlain and address these matters as candidly as he could when he met with the delegation personally. The British were expecting to be subject to a thorough grilling over their plans and preparations. What they got instead was polite indifference. Some of the delegation spoke not a word of English and they had absolutely no authority to discuss any matters of significance, even what might have been seen as simple questions from the British were rebuffed with an insistence that matters must be referred to Paris for proper consideration.

Gamelin was simply unwilling to risk compromising his strategic independence by being shackled to British interests. Daladier was far from happy with the outcome of the visit but could hardly justify removing Gamelin for taking such a stance. Nonetheless, partly at Daladier’s insistence, plans for an attack on the German defences in the West were prepared, but they were envisioned as purely French operation and for all Gamelin’s assurances of massive attack with some 20 divisions it would become clear in due course that his actual intentions were far more limited. With more time Gamelin might have been persuaded to see a Franco-British attack as a feasible strategy or, more likely, Daladier might have been able to replace him with someone more flexibly minded. Time was about to run out however for both diplomacy with the Soviets and improving the state of Anglo-French co-operation [3].

[1] Obviously this visit is one of the butterflies of this timeline.

[2] Literally translates as ‘attack to excess’.

[3] Overall Gamelin’s strategy seems to have been to halt any German offensive in the west and then depend on superior British and French resources, and access to US industries, to win a war of attrition. Not a terrible strategy, if you don’t mind abandoning the Poles and assume the Ardennes are impenetrable…

 

[Garrison]

23rd August – 3rd September 1939 – Molotov & Ribbentrop, Chamberlain’s Ultimatum, and the Declaration of War​

The announcement of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact shocked the world, it seemed utterly impossible given Hitler’s hatred for Communism and Slavic peoples in general and yet to the dismay of Communist parties across Western Europe it was quite real. It was the death knell for any remaining hops that Hitler might be dissuaded from war, which followed on the 1st of September as the Wehrmacht launched their long-awaited attack. Even now Hitler wanted to present Germany as the wronged party, creating a ‘false flag’ attack on the radio station at Gleiwitz, which was farcical on multiple levels, being badly executed and convincing no one despite the best efforts of the Reich’s propaganda machine [1]. There was a considerable amount of nervous tension at OKH, wondering exactly what the British and French would, even though they were fully confident that they could dispatch the Poles with ease.

In Paris the grim conclusion was reached that unless the Germans by some miracle decided to withdraw from Poland then a declaration of war must follow. Gamelin was no happier than Daladier at having to go to war, he was however confident in the outcome of any conflict. He now evinced the view that the Heer (the German army) was far weaker than in 1914 and it lacked the material resources to sustain a long war. To some extent this was all true, Germany was in desperate need of oil and raw materials and the trade deal that formed part of the negotiations with the Soviets only partially ameliorated their shortages. Such long-range planning left open the question of what was to be done in the short term, and it assumed that the Germans were unaware of their predicament and would conform to Gamelin’s plans.

The ultimatum dispatched to Berlin by Neville Chamberlain at 9am on the morning of the 3rd was a perfunctory document, a pro forma act before the Prime Minister made the inevitable declaration of war at 11am. It is a rare Prime Minister who gets to choose his moment to leave the stage, most are fated for their career to end in failure, either defeated at the ballot box or turned on by a party that has grown weary of them. Chamberlain didn’t currently have to worry about the ballot box but if he thought that with the outbreak of war his MPs would form a united front then he was to be sadly disappointed, and yet his political career still seemed to lead a charmed life, or perhaps cursed would be more appropriate in the circumstances.

The ‘grey suits’ of the 1922 committee kept their knives sheathed, for the moment, concerned that if the opposition parties had to be brought into a unity government, they might expect a say in who succeeded Chamberlain, which was an unpalatable prospect. Halifax however conceded there were probably some selfish motivations behind continued support of Chamberlain, “With the outbreak of war I honestly believe that the Prime Minister had reached the limit of his strength, it seemed he had gone as far as he could and stepping aside might even have been a relief for him. Even so everyone seemed to look to someone else to take the lead and make the call for him to step down. There was no prospect of relieving Poland and no on in the country wanted to see political squabbling taking place against the background of the country possibly facing an aerial onslaught from the Luftwaffe. Who indeed would want to take up the mantle of Prime Minister under such circumstances?”

The one man who would have revelled in taking up the mantle in exactly those circumstances had to content himself with the role of First Lord of the Admiralty, promoting a dispatch to the fleet, ‘Winston’s back!’ [2].

For the British once the shock had worn off there was an odd sense of relief. No one wanted war, still now the agonizing uncertainty was done, and the country knew where it stood now, not to mention it had a powerful ally in the French, and perhaps in due course the USA. A second expanded cadre was about to complete their training courtesy of the MTA. There were some 17 Matilda IIs in service [3], 11 Valentines undergoing trials [4], with full production gearing up, and somewhere around 20% of Mk VI B crews had transitioned to the Cruiser II, Cruiser IV and even a few who were learning the foibles of the Covenanter [5] as all available models were pressed into service. There was much grumbling as crews were reorganized and forced to learn the ins and outs of very different vehicles. The old military adage about sweat saving blood fully applied to this transition. Teething troubles with the tanks would be ironed out, crews learned how to handle the vehicles effectively, and mechanics acquired both the tools and expertise in keeping them running, with this knowledge being refined and passed along as more crews made the transition.

Those producing the tanks were likewise facing a learning curve and after September there would be a steady increase in output as the companies refined and streamlined the manufacturing process. The same could be said for Universal Carriers, Dingoes, military trucks and all manner of weapons and military equipment. This would all bear fruit for Britain in the prosecution of the war, but the man who had instigated it all would reap no benefit at all. All that faced Neville Chamberlain was a final agonizing decline, both physical and politically.

[1] The Wikipedia page about this bizarre event:

Gleiwitz incident

[2] In OTL this may have been apocryphal, here it definitely happened.

[3] This compares to an entire 2 that were operational in OTL September 1939

[4] Compared with none in OTL

[5} And obviously this is a lot more Cruiser Tanks than OTL

 

[Garrison]

7th September – 13th October 1939 – The Saar Offensive ​

Much was expected from the French Saar offensive launched on the 7th of September. The plan called for some forty French divisions, including one armoured and three mechanized, to cross the German border and advance to the defences of what the Allies referred to as the Siegfried Line, but was called the Westwall by the Germans. There they would consolidate and launch a further attack to break through and drive deep into Germany, compelling the Germans to divert substantial forces to meet the attack. Some optimists hoped that it might force the Germans to make peace and spell the end for Hitler’s regime. On the other hand, there were far more people still deeply anxious about the prospect of devastating Luftwaffe raids on London and Paris. London had little to fear at this point, Paris was a different matter being well within range of Luftwaffe airfields. Obviously both the French were still overestimating both the size of the Luftwaffe and the capabilities of air power in general. There was also the fact that the bulk of the Luftwaffe was committed to the attack on Poland. London and Paris were safe, for the moment.

What should have been of far greater concern to those in authority was the sluggish progress of French mobilization, which was very much moving to the rhythms of 1914 rather than 1939. The strategy employed by the French was also very definitely that of World War I, emphasizing the concentration of heavy artillery to break down defences and the ‘bite and hold’ tactics, which meant taking limited objectives, repelling counterattacks and bring the artillery forward to support the attack on the next objective. Such tactics seem archaic to modern eyes, they were though used to great effect in 1918 and importantly from the French perspective they helped to conserve manpower. Artillery and armour were meant to clear the way for the infantry to advance and take their objectives and it should not be thought that the Wehrmacht had wholeheartedly embraced some revolution in strategy, the priority given to artillery and other weapons that had dominated the battlefields of the Western Front shows they were still by and large preparing for trench warfare, not grand sweeping armoured advances.

Still these tactics did not offer the prospect of the sort of rapid advance that might have put real pressure on the Reich, not one soldier would be diverted from Poland as the French slowly advanced to the line of the Westwall. In 1938 the Westwall had been little more than a line on a map. Hitler changed this by giving the project the highest priority and placing it in the hands of Fritz Todt, the man who had overseen the Autobahn project. Todt succeeded in turning the Westwall into a formidable array of defensive positions, not without causing much unhappiness among the Wehrmacht, industry, and the Reich Finance Ministry. The military and industry were unhappy about the quantity of raw materials and labour diverted to the project while the Finance Ministry was unhappy about the way Todt simply ignored the wage controls the ministry had put in place and offered what were seen as exorbitant pay rates. With the full support of Hitler Todt could easily dismiss such complaints and get the job done. [1]

Regardless of how much reinforced concrete had been poured and how many bunkers dug, such defences were only as good the troops manning them and the weapons at their disposal and in 1939 this was the area where the Westwall was deficient. Not only were the number of troops less than adequate there were question marks over their quality. In the attack on Poland the spearheads of the Heer had proven themselves every bit as capable as the Wehrmacht had hoped, the same could not be said for some of the second and third line units that followed up those spearheads. It would become very clear that many of these formations composed largely of recently called up reservists were lacking in training and discipline. These issues would be addressed in due course, but the troops entrusted with holding the Westwall were of similar quality to those second line formations.

What would have happened if the French had attacked the Westwall will remain forever a matter of speculation, the one thing that truly differentiated the French Army and the Heer in 1939 was energy. The leaders of the Heer expected their subordinates to show drive and initiative, the French General staff expected their officers in the field to act only in accordance with detailed orders emanating from on high, orders that were composed and relayed at a ponderous speed. Gamelin never seems to have envisioned his offensive as anything more than a token gesture, once it failed to force the Germans to divert troops to reinforce the Westwall he had no will to take the causalities potentially involved in breaking through the Westwall and once the Soviets attacked Poland from the east on the 17th of September it was clear that the Poles were finished and far from seeing the opportunity to drive deep into Germany and take the battle to the Wehrmacht Gamelin was deeply anxious about the Heer pivoting from Poland to launch a full scale counteroffensive against the French forces, potentially cutting them off their lines of retreat. Even had the Wehrmacht been able to mount such a rapid redeployment the munitions stockpiles of both the Heer and the Luftwaffe had been severely depleted by even the limited offensive in Poland, a major reason why OKH resisted Hitler’s demands for an offensive in the west in November 1939. [2]

With the linking up of German and Soviet forces on the 6th of October Gamelin ordered the full withdrawal of all forces in the Saar back to the Maginot Line. Even at the time there were those who argued against this decision, General Henri Giraud was very much against it and the British were not happy. They had deployed the first elements of the British Expeditionary Force (BEF) to France, emphasizing the dispatch of armour in the expectation of joining a general advance into Germany, now they found themselves being expected to aid in countering any German offensive in the west, being in due course fully integrated into the Dyle Plan, or Plan D, which was designed to halt a German advance through the Low Countries. This was plan which the Belgians themselves had not agreed to and yet it was on this that Gamelin would pin all his hopes.

With the ignominious end of the Saar Offensive the situation descended into what is commonly referred to as the ‘phoney war’, with its implication that little of importance happened during this time. This does a grave disservice to those who lost their lives during the winter of 1939-40.

[1] Todt tends to get overlooked quite often, mainly since Speer basically took credit for the plans Todt in put in place to improve efficiency in the war industries. Much more this topic the be found in ‘Wages of Destruction’.

[2] This was indeed Hitler’s original demand, astoundingly OKH successfully resisted him, not yet being quite the collection of yes men they became after the Fall of France.

 

[Garrison]

7thth September – 17th January 1940 - The ‘Phoney War’​

The phrase ‘Phoney War’ was best not mentioned in earshot of anyone serving in the British Merchant Marine in those opening months of World War II. Between September and December 1939 the Germans sank more than three hundred ships, with a commensurate loss of life. Some two thousand French troops had been killed or wounded during the abortive Saar Offensive and for the people of Poland the grim reality of occupation would make itself felt as the Nazis began to put into effect their plans to not merely erase Poland from the map of Europe but destroy the Poles as a people. Those under the control of the Soviets would fare only a little better, with those officers considered too dangerous to Soviet rule being ruthlessly massacred in the Katyn Forest in 1940. Soviet military action in 1939 did not stop at Poland. On November 30th, taking advantage of the secret terms included in the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, the USSR invaded Finland and started what has become known as the Winter War. The Finns would take some seventy thousand casualties, the Soviets between three and four hundred thousand by the time it ended in early 1940. The poor performance of the Red Army during the Winter War would simply confirm the low opinion of them held by the Wehrmacht and encourage Hitler’s plans for conquest in the east. On the Soviet side it would lead to a reorganization that restored conventional ranks and discipline, while reducing the role of the political commissars. This reform process would not be completed by the time Hitler decided that the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact had outlived its useful and put Operation Barbarossa into motion.

Scapa Flow had been reactivated as an anchorage for the Home Fleet with the outbreak of war. It was soon deemed too vulnerable to air attack and by the night of 13th-14th October much of the fleet had been dispersed to other harbours until the air defences could be upgraded. This was a fortuitous decision, though the attack that struck Scapa Flow was carried out not by the Luftwaffe but by the Kriegsmarine. U-47 was commanded by Korvettenkapitän Gunther Prien, who would go on to become one of the premier U-Boat aces before U-47 was sunk in March 1941 with the loss of all hands, he made his name with the bold attack on the ships anchored at Scapa Flow. Just after midnight U-47 entered the harbour and soon sighted two warships, one identified as a Revenge Class Battleship and the other as a Renown Class battlecruiser. Prien launched a spread of three torpedoes at the battleship and two struck home to devastating effect. Within minutes HMS Royal Oak was sinking, with its bewildered crew leaping overboard, many clad in nothing except their night clothes. Such was the confusion that it was initially assumed the ship had fallen victim to an internal explosion, so no search was launched for U-47. Realizing he was not being hunted Prien took the bold decisions to press home an attack on the Battlecruiser. This time only one of four torpedoes fired found its mark and struck the bows of the ship. This still did considerable damage but did not sink her, though Prien claimed otherwise, believing he had sunk both the battleship Royal Oak and the battlecruiser Repulse. At this point the base began to realize the harbour had been penetrated and Prien had to make good his escape. His insistent claim to have sunk Repulse and not merely damaged her was academic in any case as the ship in question was not Repulse or even a Battlecruiser, it was a World War I seaplane tender the Pegasus. The damage to the ship was severe enough that it was sent to a breakers yard in December [1].

The military impact of the attack was not significant for the Royal Navy. The sensational newspaper headlines it generated both in Britain and neutral countries, especially the USA, was another matter. Naturally there was elation over the success of the attack in Berlin, with Prien receiving the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross and being nicknamed ‘The Bull of Scapa Flow’. For Doenitz this an important success, he didn’t see an immediate increase in U-Boat production, but he did now have Hitler’s attention, which was the prerequisite to get anything done in the Third Reich. All this elation probably explains the failure of anyone, other than Prien himself, to question why half of U-47’s torpedoes had failed to hit home against anchored targets. It would be quite some time before the issues with the Kriegsmarine’s torpedoes were recognized, let alone fixed.

The British gained a large measure of revenge on the Kriegsmarine when a force of Royal Navy cruisers composed of HMS Ajax, HMS Achilles, HMS Exeter, and HMS Cumberland intercepted the Graf Spee off the River Plate on the 13th of December. In the battle that followed the Exeter would suffer fatal damage, sinking on the morning of the 14th after being abandoned the previous night. This was not enough to save Graf Spee. The attacks pressed home by all four Royal Navy vessels managed to damage Graf Spee’s steering controls, leaving her stuck in a slow turn to port. This allowed the three surviving Cruisers to hit Graf Spee with salvo after salvo, with one shell scoring a direct hit on the bridge, killing the Graf Spee’s captain, Kapitän zur See Hans Langsdorff, along with most of the ship’s senior officers. With Graf Spee badly damaged and lacking firm direction with the loss of Langsdorff the crew took the decision to scuttle their ship, in no small part because of a mistaken sighting that convinced them more Royal Navy ships were closing in. The smoke they spotted was in fact from the Exeter now just over the horizon, meaning that Exeter could claim to have played a vital part in the destruction of the German Pocket Battleship. British propaganda emphasized it was the gunfire of the cruisers that sank Graf Spee and the claims of the crew to have scuttled her were disputed for years, only being settled when Oceanographer Bob Ballard located her in 1994 [2].

One aspect of the battle that the British did their best to keep out of the media was that when the British ships began to recover survivors, they found British sailors among their ranks. These were the crews from of some of the merchant ships the Graf Spee had sunk and it was soon clear that many of them had perished in the battle. Others had been luckier in that they had been transferred to the German Merchantman Altmark well before the battle and were on their way to be interned in Germany, though they would not reach a German port and the circumstances of their rescue would have significant consequences for the Allies, the Axis, and neutral Norway [3].

One of the stranger incidents of the period occurred near Mechelen in Belgium, when a German Me108 crashed at the airfield there. The pilot, Major Erich Hoenmanns, survived and between his interrogation and inspection of the wreckage it was established that not only had Hoenmanns become lost, he had also somehow cut off the fuel supply to the engine by mistakenly moving a lever in the cockpit. Given this unlikely chain of events some even speculated that Hoenmanns was trying to defect and had lost his nerve at the last moment, a claim vehemently denied by Hoenmanns himself.

It was only years after the war that evidence emerged that the ‘Mechelen Incident’ could have been far more serious for the Wehrmacht than the loss of one officer. Being interviewed for a history of the Battle of France Major Helmuth Reinberger claimed that the evening before the incident he had been having a drink in the officer’s mess and run into Hoenmanns, who had offered Reinberger a ride since he was planning to log some flying hours the following day and Reinberger was facing a tedious train journey to Cologne for a staff meeting. This offer was very tempting according to the account Reinberger gave the interviewer. However, Reinberger also stated that he had concluded that given the amount Hoenmanns was drinking he would be in no fit state to fly in the morning and so he declined the offer. This was not only fortunate for Reinberger, assuming the incident would still have happened with him aboard, but according to him also avoided the highly classified documents he was due to carry from falling into Belgian hands, among which were papers detailing parts of the German plan for the attack in the west, Case Yellow.

Naturally the idea that the French might have gotten their hands on a copy of the German battle plan in January sparked a great deal of interest and Hoenmanns was asked to verify the story, which he did, with the exception that he claimed it had been Reinberger who had gotten drunk and failed to wake up in time having accepted the offer. It must be said though that a hangover would be a more plausible explanation for Hoenmanns actions on the 17th of January than a botched defection, though in either case it was clear that Reinberger missed the flight by luck more than judgement. Surviving Wehrmacht records confirm that Reinberger did indeed attend a staff meeting in Cologne around that time and that in his capacity as the supply officer for 7. Flieger-Division he did carry papers dealing with the Division’s objectives for Case Yellow [4].

As dramatic as such an intelligence coup might seem its true value remains a matter of debate, with a strong case being made that it would have made only a marginal difference in the Battle of France, barely altering the existing Dyle Plan in May, and having no effect whatsoever on the events of July and August 1940 [5].

[1] In OTL Prien did not make an attack on Pegasus, which had indeed bee misidentified as a Battlecruiser.

[2] So in OTL Cumberland didn’t arrive until after the battle. Here with somewhat more RN resources available she was part of the hunting group, which presses Graf Spee harder, resulting in more damage to Exeter, which survived OTL, and the Graf Spee being scuttled at sea rather than when leaving Montevideo.

[3] Which will be the subject of the next update.

[4] So all those elements happened in OTL, Reinberger just ran into Hoenmanns in the mess, Hoenmanns happened to be flying the next morning, got lost and accidentally cut off fuel to the engine. I decided it would take a very small butterfly to break the chain of circumstance and I chose the one that I liked best, though at one point I did consider having Hoenmanns not cut off the fuel and make a last-minute escape.

[5] Yes July and August, make of that what you will…

 

[Garrison]

February 1940 – April 1940 - The Altmark and Norway​

The last act of the Graf Spee affair played out on the 15th of February when the tanker Altmark passed into neutral Norwegian waters. The ship was not carrying fuel, but survivors from several of the ships sunk by Graf Spee. Transporting POWs through neutral waters was not a violation of international law but under considerable pressure the Norwegians did intercept the ship and search it, not once but twice. The first search was conducted by the torpedo boat, HNoMS Trygg, which failed to discover the presence of some 300 POWs for the simple reason that they failed to inspect the hold. The official reason for this was that the search party believed the hold was full of oil. This peculiar piece of logic has prompted many to speculate that crew of the Trygg found what they wanted to find. Its possible someone in higher authority shared this sentiment because the Trygg was promptly ordered to conduct a second search, this time the results were very different [1]. Varying versions of what happened exist, what seems to be generally agreed up is that some of the prisoners managed to make enough noise to prompt some of the Norwegian sailors to insist on investigating and when they went to open the hold a scuffle broke out that rapidly escalated to a full-blown brawl with fists, impromptu clubs and knives being used. There were casualties on both sides, but the arrival of reinforcements from the Trygg carrying pistols allowed the Altmark to be secured. At this point the niceties of transporting prisoners were academic, the lies told by the Altmark crew and the injuries to the Norwegian boarding party, which would prove fatal in one case, were enough to incline the Norwegians to intern the ship. This was fortunate as a short time later the British destroyer HMS Cossack arrived and requested to put a party aboard the Altmark and inspect the condition of the prisoners. As the prisoners aboard the Altmark were becoming distinctly fractious over whether they would be repatriated or possibly left aboard if Altmark were somehow allowed to continue its journey, the Norwegians accepted the suggestion, albeit reluctantly. The Royal Navy contingent remained aboard as the Norwegians sailed the Altmark to Bergen with the Cossack falling into formation as not wholly welcome escort.

In London the reaction was one of satisfaction and relief. Orders had been issued from Admiralty House to board the Altmark and liberate the prisoners even if the Norwegians resisted, regardless of the potentially disastrous diplomatic consequences of doing so. Avoiding having to make that choice while still being able to free the prisoners was seen as a triumph and a rare piece of good news for the Chamberlain government, which was increasingly coming under attack for what was perceived as a lacklustre prosecution of the war. What political credit there had been from the sinking of the Graf Spee was being conspicuously directed to the First Lord of the Admiralty, indeed many attributed the Norwegian willingness to confront the Altmark as being the result of the more aggressive stance of the Navy under Churchill’s guidance. Even so, at this point the possibility that Churchill might be the next occupant of No.10 still seemed remote enough that even those who were appalled by that idea continued their criticism of Chamberlain’s conduct of the war. The seizure of the Altmark may no have shored up Chamberlain’s position but it did serve to allay some of the fears in Whitehall that Norway were being coerced into favouring the Nazi’s in their diplomatic dealings.

In Berlin the reaction was different to say the least. Hitler was incandescent and Goebbels launched a full-scale propaganda assault on the Norwegians. They were accused of ‘piracy’, of ‘blatantly colluding with the British’, and ‘showing their neutrality as nothing but a smokescreen’. Most ominous was the pronouncement by Hitler himself that Norway’s actions had, ‘forced Germany to fundamentally reconsider their policy towards that nation. If they choose to commit violence against Germany, they could expect violence in return’ [2].

All this rhetoric alarmed the Norwegian government as it was doubtless intended to. This was further ratcheted up by the theory, which may have originated with British intelligence, that the Altmark incident had been a deliberate provocation designed to provide a pretext for a German invasion and the occupation of Narvik, the key port in the supply of Swedish Iron ore to Germany. If this did originate with British Intelligence then it was at least partially successful as the Norwegians began to to explore the possibilities of some sort of defence agreement with the Allies, even if it were nothing more than a pledge to protect Norwegian neutrality in the event of a German attack, this time backed by the might of the Royal Navy rather than the warm words Poland had received.

From the Norwegian perspective this was no more than a tentative idea, with substantial internal resistance. The British however rather overestimated the scale of the shift in Norwegian attitudes and decided to send the infantry component of the 49th (West Riding) Infantry Division, consisting of the 146th (1st West Riding), 147th (2nd West Riding) Brigade and 148th (3rd West Riding) Brigades, to the Highlands for winter training so they could be ready if the Norwegians did choose to align themselves with the Allies [3]. This rather hurried arrangement meant the units would face miserable conditions with inadequate shelter and all too often cold field rations. As it turned out this was excellent practice for the conditions they would face when they were indeed deployed. The other important benefit of this hasty training was the awkward realization than soldiers in Khaki did not blend well into a snowy background and so hasty efforts were made to address the problem. A supply of hooded smocks was hastily dyed along with some outsize pyjama bottoms to act as over trousers. Much to the chagrin of many an NCO troops were also instructed to apply whitewash to their boots. It was a rough and ready solution, but as would prove to be the case many times during war rough and ready was considerably better than nothing.

[1] In OTL the Norwegians searched the Altmark THREE times and found nothing. I have charitably decided to chalk that up to ineptitude rather than malice and allowed for them being at least marginally competent here.

[2] Invented quote.

[3] The 146th and the 148th were indeed dispatched to Norway OTL, though obviously with rather less preparation, the 147th was retained in the UK, here it gets to join its fellow Yorkshire Brigades.

 

[Garrison]

March 1940 – April 1940 – The Battle of Norway – Build Up​

Throughout March concern about German intentions had increased in Norway, this was largely due to the vicious circle of increased anxiety leading to spurious reports of German aircraft overflying Norwegian airfields, ships being tracked by U-Boats and German parachutists landing, doubtless to commit acts of sabotage and assassination. All but lost amid this noise were genuine incidents, Germany was after all preparing for an invasion of Denmark and Norway. There were indeed some overflights of Norway and the occasional U-boat sortie to track naval activity around Oslo, Trondheim, and Bergen, though given the bulk of the U-Boat force was deployed in the Battle of the Atlantic there were far fewer of these missions than would have been optimal and they critically failed to discover the extent of the Royal Navy presence in the seas outside Norwegian territorial waters.

The U-Boats were also tasked with landing Abwehr agents in Norway, with results that ranged from farcical to disastrous. During one such landing attempt a dinghy dispatched with two agents and two Kriegsmarine sailors aboard was hit by the wash of a passing ship that caused one of the agents to end up in the water. He went under and given the cold of the water and his heavy clothing he never surfaced again. Disheartening as this may have been the dinghy pressed on and deposited the agent near to Ankenes, south of Narvik. The agent referred to only as ‘Nathan’ in Norwegian reports that were shared with the British Secret Intelligence Service (more commonly known as MI6) was supposed to have been a fluent Norwegian speaker. In practice his accent was terrible, his vocabulary seems to have risen barely above the level of phrase book Norwegian and Nathan seems to have learned the Nynorsk form of the written language rather than the far more common Bokmål form. These factors combine to see Nathan arrested within twenty-four hours. He co-operated freely with his interrogators and revealed that his mission had been to find out all he could about the defences of Narvik. The Norwegians promptly threw Nathan into the Botsfengselet prison. This was probably an error on the part of the Norwegians, faced with the same issue the British had turned agents where possible with the intent of feeding the Abwehr false information. The Norwegians did not share information about Nathan with the British at the time, they also kept the details of the altogether more alarming objectives of agent ‘Jacob’ secret from the Allies.

Jacob had done a better job of blending in than Nathan, partly because his cover as a Swedish businessman covered a multitude of sins with his limited Norwegian. His downfall was an attempt to contact a Norwegian army officer, referred to in records only as officer B, believed to have Nazi sympathies and ties to the fascist Nasjonal Samling (National Union) and its leader Vidkun Quisling. Unfortunately for Jacob he had the wrong man and was lured into a meeting where he was captured. Like Nathan Jacob proved co-operative, naming the people he was supposed to contact, including Quisling, whom Jacob claimed had already been in touch with Berlin. This was pure fabrication on Jacob’s part, an obvious attempt to ingratiate himself with his interrogators by appearing to have more value to the Norwegians alive than shot as a spy. [1]

The consequences for Quisling were severe. He was detained by the Norwegian authorities on the 11th of march and found himself sitting in a prison cell, though he was held in a low security prison and there were arguments in the Norwegian government over whether his detention was warranted or legitimate. While Nathan and Jacob were repatriated to German in April, only to be turned over to the Gestapo for debriefing, the fate of Quisling remained a mystery until the 1960’s. It had been long established that he had been removed from his jail cell on the night of the 9th of April, but nothing of what happened after that was known until a newspaper article in published in 1963 recounted the anonymous claims that Quisling had been removed by two army officers claiming to be part of the Nasjonal Samling and were going to take Quisling to a rendezvous with German forces. The officers in question were anything but sympathetic to the Fascists and took Quisling to a quiet place and shot him several times. A different account emerged in 1966, claiming that there had been a planned rendezvous with German troops, but a botched recognition signal led to the Germans opening fire, killing all the occupants of the car. Whatever the precise truth Quisling was certainly dead by the 10th of April. [2]

In the aftermath of Quisling’s arrest, the Norwegians decided to conduct a partial mobilization, three of the Norwegian army’s field brigades would be called up with immediate effect. After several days the Prime Minister Johan Nygaardsvold sought an update from the Defence Minister Birger Ljungberg as to the deployment of the troops, only to be informed that as per peacetime procedures for such ‘secret’ mobilizations the call up notifications had been dispatched by mail! This did not go down well with Nygaardsvold, and procedures were hastily revised and by the beginning of April the three brigades were mobilized. Another issue also arose in that parts for many rifles had been removed from the weapons for some reason. This problem had mostly been resolved by the 8th of April, fortunately for the Norwegian troops who were about to be plunged into combat [3].

As stated, the Norwegians had not been sharing information about the captured spies or much else for that matter. Frustration was growing in Whitehall that the Norwegians were still being coy about military co-operation with the Allies. Chamberlain was still determined to steer a diplomatic course, fearful that action against a neutral country might sour relations with the USA. Churchill however was determined to take a more proactive approach. Plans to mine Norwegian waters had been firmly rejected but when Churchill suggested sending a force of ships to conduct ‘exercises’ near Norway this was approved albeit reluctantly on Chamberlain’s part. He did insist on sending a message to the Norwegians assuring them that the Royal Navy would not enter Norwegian waters unless Axis forces did so first. This did not please Churchill and while the written orders given to what was called Force WX conveyed Chamberlain’s instruction Churchill also sent an addendum making his own stance quite clear, ‘Remember if you sight a whale in Norwegian waters, consider it might be a German whale’. The force was led by the Battlecruiser HMS Renown, supported by one heavy cruiser, one light cruiser and nine destroyers [4].

The Kriegsmarine were oblivious to the arrival of this powerful naval force near Norway. Their invasion plan, Operation Weserübung, was launched on the 8th of April, with five forces heading for Oslo, Bergen, Trondheim, Kristiansand and Narvik [5]. The force heading for Trondheim was spotted by RAF patrol craft at around 8:00 on the 8th of April they were later attacked by RAF bombers who found them considerably farther north than expected and revised the original estimate of enemy strength. The Admiralty assumed that this might be an attempt by the Kriegsmarine to break out into the Atlantic and deployed Home Fleet accordingly. After several tense phone calls between Chamberlain, Churchill, and Halifax the force carrying out the ‘exercise’ off Norway received orders to enter Norwegian waters and proceed towards Trondheim, rather Narvik. Chamberlain seems to have continued to be reluctant to be seen as the aggressor and he wanted Force WX to confirm the presence of the Kriegsmarine ships before committing further. His anxiety can be seen in his insistence that the ships should be ready to render assistance to any damaged ships, indicating Chamberlain was anxious that the RAF might have mistakenly bombed Norwegian vessel. Chamberlain also insisted on dispatching a coded message to the British embassy for relay to the Norwegian government stating not only the intentions of Force WX but also information about its location and composition. Had the Germans been able to intercept this message it could have had dire consequences for Force WX, luckily the Germans remained ignorant. The message did probably prevent confusion arising over which ships were which and friendly fire incidents. It would be seen in this light by many in parliament when the message became common knowledge.

Captain Simeon aboard the Renown proceeded with his assignment, however it seemed unlikely to him that the Germans were only targeting Trondheim. Simeon requested, and received, permission to detach several ships to head for Bergen. This permission seems to have come direct from the Admiralty, without any political intervention. This group consisted of the cruiser HMS Glasgow and four destroyers. At the same time Simeon sent two of his remaining destroyers out ahead to try and locate the German force off Trondheim and gain a more accurate measure of its position and strength. The Destroyer HMS Punjabi would have a relatively uneventful morning on the 8th of April, the same could not be said for HMS Glowworm or the German cruiser Admiral Hipper [6].

[1] All fictional, though I have tried to conform these agents to the general quality of Abwehr field agents. Why the Germans didn’t try to send spies to Norway is beyond me.

[2] OTL of course the name Quisling became infamous, and he did run the Norwegian government in collaboration with the Germans and faced a Norwegian firing squad in 1945.

Vidkun Quisling

[3] Not an April fools’ joke, they did send the mobilization notices by post, unfortunately rather later than ITTL so no chance to correct the error.

[4] So Renown was the flagship of the OTL minelaying force, the other ships assigned to the force are made up of ships attached to Home Fleet and most actually saw action around Norway. Basically the OTL force composition didn’t make sense for the changed scenario, and I’ve used a variant of the OTL force name.

[5] But the Kriegsmarine forces are the historic ones, they really don’t have a lot of ships to shuffle around.

[6] So a completely different set of orders and guess who will get all the credit?

 

[Garrison]

8th April 1940 – 10th May 1940 – The Battle of Norway – Part I - Trondheim​

Before launching into the detailed discussion of the various battles in and around Norway it should be remembered that the Germans launched a simultaneous invasion of Denmark on the 9th of April, in complete violation of the non-aggression pact in place between the two nations. Since Denmark shared a land border with Germany the Wehrmacht was able to make a thrust north into the Danish mainland while amphibious and airborne forces attacked the coastal islands. Such was the speed of the Germans and the paucity of Danish defences, whose Army could muster a total of 14,500 troops, that the invasion was successfully completed in six hours. Under the circumstances it is hopefully understandable that it is only afforded this brief mention rather than an in-depth analysis [1].

There was heavy fog on the morning of the 8th as HMS Glowworm tried to locate the German formation reportedly steaming in the vicinity. The destroyer proceeded with caution, which alas didn’t stop them from stumbling across the ships of what the Germans had designated as Group II, consisting of four destroyers and the heavy Cruiser Admiral Hipper. Despite being massively outgunned Glowworm engaged the Hipper and after taking heavy damage resorted to ramming the cruiser, doing substantial damage to Hipper’s port side before she finished Glowworm off with a close-range salvo. The encounter was a tremendous hock to the Germans, nonetheless they pressed on towards Trondheim, with Hipper still leading the formation despite the damage inflicted by Glowworm. The Captain of the Hipper and overall commander of Group II, Kapitän zur See Hellmuth Heye, dispatched the destroyer Z6 Theodor Riedel to search for survivors from the destroyer. Captain Heye would certainly have done this regardless, in this instance though there was also the need to confirm the identity of the ship Hipper had engaged. This decision saved the lives of some British sailors, though many perished in the icy waters before they could be rescued. It also saved the entire crew of the Theodor Riedel, because Glowworm had gotten away a radio report before she succumbed and her loss would be swiftly avenged as Renown, the heavy Cruiser HMS Effingham and their remaining destroyer escort engaged Group II at 09:25 [2].

Approaching from Hipper’s port the first salvos from Renown and Effingham exacerbated the damage that had already been done by the ramming and knocked out Hipper’s forward turret. The Hipper ‘s fate was sealed in the first few minutes of the engagement and Effingham shifted its fire to engage the German destroyers that were trying press in to launch torpedo attack against herself and Renown. This proved fatal for the Z8 Bruno Heinemann, already engaged with HMS Cossack, once again in the thick of the action. Raked by a salvo from the Effingham the Bruno Heinemann was left adrift and on fire, forcing the crew to abandon ship. Captain Heye had no choice but to order the Hipper’s crew to follow suit after as she had continued to come under fire from Renown. as she was taking on water and beginning to list heavily to port, though Heye would claim post war that he had decided to scuttle his ship rather than let it be boarded by the Royal. Navy. The Z5 Paul Jakobi and Z16 Friedrich Eckoldt also soon succumbed; though she did manage to launch a spread of torpedoes, one of which struck the stern of HMS Wolverine, almost breaking the destroyer in two. In the engagement the British had lost two destroyers and several ships had taken minor damage; in exchange they had eliminated the naval force intended to seize Trondheim. Things became worse as the cargo ships assigned to support the Trondheim invasion had failed to pick up the radio traffic from the battle and continued with their assignment, resulting in all three, Sao Paolo, Levante and Main, being damaged or sunk over the next few days [3].

The Theodore Riedel had been heading north to rejoin Group II, only to pick up the radio chatter from the battle. Some of the British survivors were happy to explain that the rest of Group II was doubtless coming to a bad end at the hands of a Royal Navy force whose size they cheerfully exaggerated. Regardless the Theodore Riedel’s captain, Korvettenkapitän Gerhardt Böhmig maintained his heading towards where the battle was taking place. Only when he had confirmed visually that he could do nothing to assist and could not make radio contact with any other Kriegsmarine ships, did he turn south. The destroyer’s luck continued to hold as Renown and her contingent were too busy with rescuing survivors and dealing with the damage taken in the to mount a search for the Theodore Riedel, for that matter they were unaware there had been a fourth destroyer with the Admiral Hipper and so they were not maintaining a lookout for the Theodore Riedel. Indeed, they were more concerned by what turned out to be false reports of U-Boats in the vicinity, which led to the Royal Navy ships moving away to the north. Captain Böhmig and his command also avoided the Glasgow and its escorts. Böhmig originally intended to head for Bergen and join up with Group III there, choosing to maintain radio silence for fear that enemy ships were more likely to receive his transmissions than friendlies. An overflight by unidentified aircraft changed Böhmig’s plan and they began to make a series of course changes to throw off the aircraft in case they returned. The aircraft were British, and they didn’t attack because they thought the ship might be part of the British formation now heading towards Bergen. The delays caused by the course changes meant that the Theodore Riedel would not be able to link up with Group III as planned, possibly making the destroyer the luckiest ship in the Kriegsmarine [4].

[1] Sorry for anyone hoping for a different outcome for Denmark, they were pretty much doomed, and I could think of no way to even add a couple of hours to the battle.

[2] Yes HMS Effingham, a real ship that might have seen action off Norway but didn’t. Decided it had to be included here. See also HMS Wolverine.

[3] This is what happened to those cargo ships in OTL as well. The losses among the transports supporting all the landings were very high and much of the supplies, vehicles, and heavy weapons sent to Norway by the Wehrmacht never made it.

[4] And yes it definitely is the luckiest ship in the Kriegsmarine…

 

[Garrison]

April 1940 – May 1940 – The Invasion of Norway – Part II - Bergen​

Group III consisted of the light cruisers Köln and Königsberg, escorted by the artillery training ship Bremse, the torpedo boats Leopard and Wolf and the s-boat tender Carl Peters, supporting a quintet of s-boats [1]. The group was supposed to be reinforced by the troops and equipment aboard the steamer MS Rio de Janeiro. Unknown to anyone in Group III the Rio de Janeiro had been intercepted by the Polish submarine ORP Orzeł and sunk, with the loss of 200 crew and German soldiers as well as 73 horses and hundreds of tonnes of provisions, animal feed, fuel and ammunition [2]. Survivors from the ship in German uniform provided what was the first clear sign of a German attack and as other action came in throughout the 8th the Norwegians ordered the mobilization of the remaining three field battalions, not however by post!

With the confirmation of the engagement at Trondheim the RAF and Fleet Air Arm had dispatched aircraft to search for German ships headed for Bergen. They also tried to locate other potential targets, but those efforts were largely unsuccessful. At around 17:20 hours a formation of aircraft was spotted overflying Group III. Since the aircraft took no action the commanding officer of Group III, Kapitän zur See Ernst Kratzenberg, assumed that the planes were from the Luftwaffe and did nothing to alter course. Kratzenberg was wrong in this assessment, the aircraft in question were a formation of RAF bombers and they had spotted Group III. Fortunately for Group III they were low on fuel and could not carry out an attack. They did however relay the position of the warships and at 17:30 hours a formation of Fleet Air Arm bombers carried out a successful strike, inflicting damage on the Köln [3]. Despite this Captain Kratzenberg chose to retain command aboard her rather than transferring to Königsberg. He did take action to try and evade further attacks and Group III changed course to the south in the hopes of throwing off any other hostile aircraft trying to vector in on them. The tactic succeeded and unbeknownst to Kratzenberg also resulted in the diversion of the Glasgow and her escorts as they conducted their own search for Group III in the area reported by the aircraft. This avoided a surface engagement, for the time being at least. Group III did not turn back towards Bergen until dusk at approximately 20:45 hours. While they had avoided any further encounters with hostile aircraft or ships they were now considerably behind schedule.

Given this situation Kratzenberg chose to break radio silence and send a brief message. The text of the message that was sent by the ship was later reported as, ‘Attacked by Norwegian aircraft. Taking evasive action. Will proceed to objective.’ The absence of details of the nature of the evasive action or any time or location information is understandable given the fear of the message being intercepted and read. Less so is the statement that it was Norwegian aircraft that had attacked them. Whether this was what Kratzenberg intended to be sent or if it was accidentally altered while being relayed to the radio operator is unknown. In practical terms it made no difference as there is no record the message was acted up on or indeed received at all. This meant that with the Theodore Riedel out of contact, she didn’t rendezvous with any other Kriegsmarine ships until the 10th, the German high command remained oblivious to the loss of Group II or the substantial delay to Group III and thus believed their plan was proceeding as scheduled.

Group III approached Bergen at 05:40 on the 9th and it soon became clear that any hope of sneaking in under the cover darkness had gone. Not only were the defenders of Bergen aware of the action off Trondheim but the attack on Oslo had been underway for hours. An unequivocal order had been sent out, ‘Any ship attempting to enter you harbour under cover of darkness is to be regarded as hostile regardless of flag or signals.’ {4] Thus, when they came into range every gun in the shore batteries opened up on Group III, with the first casualties being the S-Boats. The hope had been that in the confusion of their approach the S-Boats would be able to race in and deliver troops ashore to suppress the defensive fire, instead within a matter of minutes S19 was on fire, S22 Had blown and S24 was adrift and had to be abandoned. S21 ended up running aground as it made evasive manoeuvres and S23 would be abandoned later in the battle with her crew taken aboard the Carl Peters.

While this was a blow to Group III what happened to the Köln was far worse. The already damaged ship seemed to be a magnet for the heaviest fire from the shore batteries, and she took hit after hit until at 06:07 hours an explosion rocked the Köln, ripping out a huge chunk of her deck and destroying most of her superstructure, killing Captain Kratzenberg and the rest of the bridge crew. The Köln was left adrift and on fire, making her not only a hazard to navigation for the other ships, but also helping to illuminate them for the shore batteries. Captain Heinrich Ruhfus aboard the Königsberg thus found command falling on him even as the shore batteries started to focus fire on his ship. He faced an invidious situation. Group III had lost the advantage of surprise; he was facing fierce resistance from the shore batteries, and he had no idea how many troops were deployed to defend Bergen (the answer at this point was not very many). To make matters worse dawn would arrive at O6:38, leaving him barely 15 minutes of darkness to work with. Under these circumstance Ruhfus felt he had no choice, and he ordered Group III to withdraw. His hope was that events elsewhere might lead to a Norwegian surrender and the port could be entered unopposed later, or that Group III could be reinforced before staging a second attempt at a landing [5].

At roughly this time the Köln capsized and extinguished the fire, temporarily restoring the darkness and throwing off the Norwegian gunnery. The darkness proved a double-edged sword as the German ships had no running lights on to avoid drawing fire and during the manoeuvres to reverse course the Bremse struck the Leopard. The damage to the Bremse was relatively minor, the Leopard however was taking on water, and it was clear she was sinking. She limped on for a little while, trying to get out of range of the shore batteries. Soon though it was clear she was going down, and her crew had to evacuate to the Wolf before she finally sank at 06:57. At the same time Bremse had slowed to pick up survivors from the Köln, which meant the ships of Group III were badly scattered as they made their way through the fjords and back out to the open sea. Still as they left the range of the defences around the port it the crew of the Königsberg would have been forgiven for thinking the worst was behind them. If any had thought that HMS Glasgow and her consorts would soon prove them wrong.

The 8th had been a day of frustration for Captain Pegram aboard Glasgow. They had been searching fruitlessly for Group III for hours and when they finally approached the fjords around Bergen, they swiftly became aware a battle was raging, one they didn’t not dare join for fear of being fired on by the very defenders they wanted to aid. The best they could do was to remain close to Bergen and hope for an opportunity to arise. Their patience was awarded at 10:12 hours when Königsberg was spotted heading back to sea and a few minutes later the Carl Peters came into sight. Glasgow and the destroyers quickly came to action stations.

On the Königsberg the response was less decisive. The combination of the fact that Glasgow was approaching bow on, and probably a tired bridge crew, led to Captain Ruhfus considering that the approaching ship might be Kriegsmarine reinforcements. Much to the surprise of Captain Pegram the Königsberg tried to signal them by lamp. He decided to respond to close the range and sent the single word ‘standby’. The next ‘message’ from the Glasgow was a salvo from her two forward 6” gun turrets. The destroyers HMS Acasta and HMS Kimberley soon joined in while the other two, HMS Eskimo and HMS Forester, manoeuvred to engage the Carl Peters [6]

Captain Ruhfus now knew that he was facing yet more hostiles, however Königsberg had only just started clearing for action when the first shells struck his ship. By the time they were ready to return fire Königsberg was also taking hits from the destroyers, quickly undoing much of the temporary repairs undertaken after exiting Bergen. Königsberg scored hits on the Kimberley in return, she was though taking far more damage than she was inflicting, and the outcome was all but inevitable.

At approximately 11:05 the Bremse and the Wolf finally caught up with the rest of Group III and initially it seemed to them that they might be able to tilt the balance of the battle as the Königsberg was still underway and the Carl Peters showed only modest signs of damage. The reality was quite different. The Carl Peters had been struck starboard amidships by a torpedo fired by Forester just before Wolf and Bremse made contact and would be struck portside astern by a second torpedo fired by Eskimo shortly afterwards. Königsberg was manoeuvring but she was barely able to maintain 15 knots and all her turrets were out of action. Captain Ruhfus was considering a last desperate attempt to torpedo or ram Glasgow at the very moment Bremse and Wolf were planning to engage.

Trying to support the Königsberg Wolf engaged the Glasgow. With Königsberg no longer able to fire Glasgow and the Acasta were able to put all their guns on the torpedo boat. Wolf did get two torpedoes away, neither of which tracked on their target, even as she was savaged by the Royal Navy ships. Wolf turned away trailing smoke and still under heavy fire. Even as the Wolf di her best to protect her the Königsberg had taken further hits from Kimberley and now the cruiser was sinking by the stern. She went down at 11:37, with only 49 sailors surviving the sinking, including an injured Captain Ruhfus.

As Bremse moved to support the Carl Peters the S-boat tender was beginning to list and was completely out of action, not that she had been well equipped for a gunnery engagement with two Royal Navy destroyers to begin with. Eskimo and Forester were therefore able to give Bremse their undivided attention. The Bremse was about the same size as a destroyer, but she was purely intended as a gunnery training vessel. She had four 12cm (approximately equivalent to British 4.5”) guns mounted in individual turrets and she had taken damage at Bergen, including the disablement of her rear turret. It was unequal engagement to say the least and by 12:20 hours the whole of Group III was either sinking, burning, or abandoned. Of the Royal Navy ships only the Forester had taken significant damage, but she remained seaworthy (she stayed in action off Norway and was sunk by Luftwaffe bombers on the 14th of April).

The Norwegians and the Royal Navy had thwarted the attempts to seize Trondheim and Bergen. If this success had been repeated elsewhere the German invasion of Norway would have been an unmitigated disaster. Regrettably things elsewhere were not going in favour of the Norwegian defenders. [7]



[1] That is the OTL composition of Group III

[2] This as per OTL. The Orzel was lost a few weeks later, though no one knows her exact fate.

ORP Orzel

[3] In OTL Koln served until March 1945.

[4] IOTL the message sent warned of the possibility of British or French ships being in the area, creating confusion which greatly aided Group III.

[5] OTL it was Konigsberg that took the damage from the shore batteries, but of course she was undamaged at that point and the defender’s hesitation also helped. She survived the initial assault on Bergen but was sunk by FAA bombers on the 10th.

[6] Again all the Royal Navy ships did, or could have, taken part in operations off Norway.

[7] Which will be the subject of the next update.

 

[Garrison]

April 1940 – May 1940 – The Invasion of Norway – Part III – Groups I, IV, V and Fallschirmjäger Landings​

Group I was tasked with the seizure of Narvik, the German’s key strategic objective as this was the port through which their supply of Iron ore from Sweden flowed. Group I contained 10 destroyers carrying some 2,000 troops and the only naval defence were the two elderly coastal defence ships, Eidsvold and Norge originally launched in 1900. These ships were quite powerfully armed despite their age, mounting a mix of 21cm, 15cm, and 4.7 cm guns (8-inch, 6-inch, and 3-inch in British terms) that made them formidable opponents, on paper. Both ships crews were desperately short on gunnery training and experience and even had they been better trained they were heavily outnumbered by the much more manoeuvrable Kriegsmarine ships. With better luck they might have inflicted some damage, with no support however it was all but impossible for them to have won the engagement. This reflected a basic issue with the deployment of the Royal Norwegian Navy during the invasion, they were scattered all over Norwegian waters rather than being concentrated to protect one or two critical locations [1].

The battle was completely one sided. The Germans called on the Eidsvold to surrender, when her captain refused, she was torpedoed and sunk before she could fire her guns. The German destroyers didn’t engage the Norge until they were alongside the pier in the port and their own gunnery left a great deal to be desired and their torpedoes only fared a little better. The Bernd von Arnim fired three salvoes of torpedoes with only the third striking home, this was more than enough to sink the Norge. This disastrous loss may have undermined the resolution of Colonel Sundlo, the officer charged with the defence of Narvik, and he surrendered the land forces without offering even token resistance. Colonel Sundlo was convicted of negligence and collaborating with the enemy after the war. This was a disappointment to some as the original charge had been treason.

The Germans had little time to celebrate this victory. On the 10th there was a somewhat inconclusive attack by the Royal Navy’s 2nd Destroyer Flotilla, consisting of HMS Hardy, HMS Hotspur, HMS Havock, HMS Hunter and HMS Hostile, with both sides losing two destroyers in the engagement, though the Royal Navy ships did also sink an ammunition supply ship and six cargo ships, further reducing the Kriegsmarine’s ability to support the occupation forces. The commanders of both the Royal Navy destroyer formation and the Kriegsmarine force were killed in the battle. Captain Bernard Warburton-Lee received the Victoria Cross and Kommodore Friedrich Bonte received the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross.

British reinforcements soon arrived and prevented any of the Kriegsmarine ships from departing. Then on the 13th HMS Warspite entered the Vestfjord with a destroyer escort and this time the battle was a decisive victory as eight Kriegsmarine destroyers were sunk or scuttled, and a U-Boat was sunk by air attack from Warspite’s catapult aircraft, only one of two such victories achieved by a battleship in the entire war. In exchange the British took damage to two destroyers. Worse was to come as the allies prepared a counteroffensive. This counteroffensive would culminate in the retaking of Narvik on 28th May, the first significant allied victory on land against the Wehrmacht. The fighting in and around Narvik rather puts the lie to the idea that French troops were somehow lacking in fighting spirit. The Corps Expéditionnaire Français en Scandinavie (CEFS) arrived on the 28th April. Composed of Alpine and Foreign Legion troops it performed admirably during the campaign, demonstrating that the issues exposed during the Battle of France had much more to do with poor leadership and orders which were constantly countermanded than any lack of esprit de corps. The bulk of the troops in the battle were of course Norwegian, there were naturally also a British contingent and four Polish battalions were also deployed. Outnumbered and short on supplies the German forces were not only unable to hold Narvik, but they also faced the prospect of being forced into a complete surrender or scattering and attempting to evade capture in an effort to reach Sweden to be interned. This grim choice was only avoided by events in France and this considerable setback for the Wehrmacht found no place in Allied propaganda efforts, those being much more focused on Trondheim and Bergen. [2]

The four naval actions between the 8th and 13th, meant that the Kriegsmarine had lost almost two-thirds of its modern destroyers and much of its modern cruiser strength. On the 15th of April Gneisenau and Scharnhorst were engaged by the Battlecruiser HMS Repulse supported by two Light Cruisers and Scharnhorst took significant damage in the engagement, with only nightfall and more spurious reports of U-Boat activity allowing the pair to break off and escape. Given the already horrendous losses amongst the Kriegsmarine’s surface forces, as well as the lack of Trondheim as a safe harbour, Admiral Raeder ordered both ships to restrict themselves to an area bounded by Kristiansand in the west, though were occasionally dispatched as far as Bergen trying to intercept Allied shipping. Even this was halted after a near miss with a group of RAF bombers. This decision meant they were unable to intervene in any meaningful way when the Allies conducted their evacuation of Narvik in July, which was probably fortunate for some of the Royal Navy units involved [3].

Group IV was assigned to take Kristiansand and they encountered resistance every bit as fierce as that at Bergen a few hours later. They twice repulsed attempts to land and damaged the Light Cruiser Karlsruhe (she was hit by two torpedoes from the submarine HMS Truant the following day while returning to Germany and sank swiftly with considerable loss of life). At Kristiansand there was though no naval support to interfere with German efforts to regroup and they finally resorted to using captured Norwegian codes to confuse the defenders. It also seems some of the defenders were not aware of the unequivocal order from Oslo and thus checked their fire, giving the German troops an opportunity to get ashore and once they did the town quickly fell. While the rest of Group IV were engaged in this fierce battle the torpedo boat Greif seized Arendal without any opposition, gaining control of the undersea telegraph cable connecting Norway to Britain.

The experience of the Fallschirmjäger paratroopers who seized the airfield at Stavanger was much more in line with Arendal than Kristiansand. They encountered light resistance, the same could not be said for their fellow Fallschirmjägers who attempted to seize Fornebu Airport near Oslo. The actions of the paratroopers here, and later in the Low Countries, created an anxiety about such landings out of all proportion to their effectiveness. The lesson that paratroopers had to rapidly supported or withdrawn was one that the Luftwaffe, or rather Hermann Goering, proved extremely reluctant to learn.

Group V had been assigned to seize the Norwegian capital of Oslo and it was here that the Norwegian forces made their strongest stand during the initial invasion. The shore defences put up even fiercer resistance than they had at, Kristiansand with the heavy cruiser Blucher being hit by heavy gunfire from the Oscarsborg Fortress, firing at almost point-blank range, and then sunk by forty-year-old torpedoes fired from a land-based installation at the fortress [4].

When the Germans did manage to land, they found fully mobilized and prepared Norwegian troops waiting for them and the fighting was bitter as the Norwegians fought desperately to defend their capital. The German forces were supposed to be reinforced by troops being flown into Fornebu, this part of the plan also ran into problems. The Fallschirmjägers assigned to seize the airport landed far off course owing to poor weather and by the time they arrived they ran heavy fire from Norwegian troops who had been rushed there in response to reports of paratroopers. In the end troops had to be diverted from the landings to take the airport, only for the Norwegians to put in a determined counterattack and retake control. This was unfortunate for a group of Ju-52s that tried to land during the counterattack. Five JU-52s were wrecked on the ground, but the Luftwaffe did succeed in delivering a substantial body of troops who regrouped with the rest of the German troops to take the airport back again. When the Germans finally secured it, this allowed them to start bringing in a steady stream of troops and supplies, meaning the Norwegian defenders were now forced to defend on two flanks [5].

The fighting was ended by a blunt ultimatum to the Norwegians. If Oslo was not promptly surrendered German troops would withdraw and the city would be left to the wrath of the Luftwaffe. Under the circumstances the Norwegian government felt it had no choice, and they declared Oslo an open city on the 11th of April, despite some protests that the battle could still be won, particularly in light of the defeats at Trondheim and Bergen. This advice was rejected in no small part because of the wildly inaccurate estimates of the capabilities of the Luftwaffe and the power of strategic bombing in general [6]. The surrender of Oslo did not equate to a general surrender of Norway. The Government had by this point largely left Oslo, along with the royal family and the national treasury, the latter causing the greatest chagrin in Berlin. Both government and treasury would find their way to Bergen, to be greeted not only by Norwegian troops but also the by the freshly arrived soldiers of 146th Brigade and the French 13ème Bataillon Chasseurs Alpins [7].

[1] These two ships were supposed to be replaced by newer designs under construction in the UK in 1916. They were instead commandeered by the Royal Navy for the war effort and the Norwegians don’t appear to have made any subsequent effort to update them.

[2] This section is as per OTL because to be honest I couldn’t see anyway this could have realistically gone worse or better for the Wehrmacht.

[3] Again yes, the Allies don’t withdraw until July for reasons that will be explained when the focus of the TL moves from Norway to France. And yes, you can guess which naval units got luckier than OTL.

[4] So yes this is per OTL as well, for much the same reasons.

[5] The Germans encounter much more resistance at the airport here than OTL, mainly because of the earlier and more efficient mobilization. IOTL they took it pretty quickly.

[6] So possibly IOTL the Norwegians could have held Oslo, but then I considered the likely German response to the impasse and threatening to level Oslo seemed almost inevitable in such circumstances. It worked with the Czechs and the bombing of Rotterdam basically broke the Dutch OTL. Given the pathological fear of bombing and the lacklustre performance of the Norwegian government this seemed the most likely outcome.

[7] And so the 146th, 147th and 148th have arrived. They and the conduct of the land battles will be the focus of the next update.

 

[Garrison]

April 1940 – May 1940 – The Invasion of Norway – Part IV – Fighting to a Stalemate​

The 146th and the 13ème BCA had reached Bergen on the 17th of April, joining elements of the Norwegian 5th Division that arrived on the 10th. The 147th and 148th and elements of 5e Demi-Brigade Chasseurs Alpins, as well as 53ème and 67ème BCA disembarked at Trondheim, joining elements of the Norwegian 6th Division. Given the confusion surrounding the deployment of further British reinforcements it was a small miracle that the Battalions had retained their ‘winter pyjamas’, which make them a source of envy for other British troops and led the German high command to erroneously conclude, ‘The British have clearly been preparing Alpine troops for some time, demonstrating their intention to occupy Norway for their own strategic purposes’. Calling the British brigades’ Alpine troops was a decidedly generous assessment and likely had more to do with explaining the Heer’s lack of success against them rather than any particular tactical acumen on the part of the British or French forces, though the part of the assessment that spoke of the tenacity of the British troops when on the defensive would have rung true with the German soldiers who faced them in other theatres of the war [1].

Once Bergen and Trondheim were secured and a perimeter established there was considerable pressure to push out and secure other strategic points before the Germans could organize for further offensive operations. This was an understandable imperative, but even with the arrival of 46 and 263 RAF fighter squadrons, both equipped with the Hawker Hurricane, the Allied forces were light on air support and short on artillery [2]. There was also a shortage of transport, especially vehicles that could move supplies off road.

The operations met with mixed success. The attempt to take Andalsnes turned into an encounter battle as the Allied troops ran into the German 2nd Mountain Division trying to do the same thing, with lack of reconnaissance leaving the two sides equally surprised and confused. The battle went in favour of the Allies in the end, though only because the poor supply situation of the German troops forced them to fall back. The British and French troops would themselves withdraw from Andalsnes themselves on the 14th of May as supplies and reinforcements were diverted to the battle of Narvik, leaving only an understrength Norwegian regiment to hold the town. The supply situation was partly the product of lack of preparation on the British and French side and partly the actions of the Luftwaffe forcing the Allies to be cautious with the dispatch of supply ships. Also, by the middle of May the unfolding battle in the Low Countries was taking first call for support. The Luftwaffe attacks on the ports and troop positions were opposed by the RAF fighter squadrons to the best of their abilities and to considerably greater effect than the troops on the ground would give them credit for. Had anyone in berlin been in the mood for introspection they might have looked at the performance of some of their most important aircraft, such as the Bf 110, in the skies over Norway and wondered how they might fare if they had to engage the RAF in the skies over Britain. In Berlin however all eyes were on Case Yellow and the only strategic lessons anyone was interested in were those to be drawn from the dismal performance of the Red Army in the Winter War.

An attempt to attack Stavanger from the Bergen bridgehead was hampered for the same reasons as the move towards Andalsnes. After this the Allies decided to focus their limited offensive resources on Narvik and went fully on the defensive at Trondheim and Bergen. The Germans in turn launched two attempt to seize Trondheim, towards the end of May but these proved every bit as overambitious as the Allied attacks, with their supply problems being at least as bad as those of the Allies. Much like the Allied troops the German forces in Norway had been relegated to a distant second place by the developing situation in the Low Countries. Neither side had the means to achieve a decisive victory, even the Allied retaking of Narvik didn’t really change the strategic situation [3].

The Germans would only achieve victory when the situation in France deteriorated so drastically in July, The British and French troops were withdrawn gradually at first from Trondheim and Bergen, with the defence of both towns being handed over to the Norwegians. The Allied troops departing from Bergen took the Norwegian royal family and the national treasury with them back to Britain. Angry at this move the Norwegian government announced their intention to seek terms from the Germans before the scheduled evacuation of Narvik could be begin. The Royal Navy, in what could be seen as dress rehearsal for later, swiftly put together a force of ships and lifted the troops out overnight, with the German troops not even realizing it had happened for many hours. The supplies the British had been forced to leave behind were a massive morale booster for the tired and hungry German soldiers who had been contemplating surrender only days before. That these troops had held out long enough to avoid this fate was remarkable, far too remarkable for some in the Allied camp who believed the Swedes had collaborated in supporting the Wehrmacht with ‘humanitarian’ supplies. When such allegations became public after the war the Swedes angrily denied them and no hard evidence has ever been produced to support them. A more likely explanation is pure stubbornness on the part of the Germans combined with simply being willing to take whatever food the civilian population might possess at gunpoint, evidenced by the fact that a number of Norwegian civilians ended up being shot out of hand, which the Germans officers who faced trial after the war for their conduct at Narvik tried to explain away by claiming that the dead were spies and saboteurs. This defence did not carry any weight with the courts, especially since there were young children among the ‘saboteurs’

HMS Glorious, charged with carrying off the RAF contingent assigned to support the troops at Narvik, got out of the danger zone some hours ahead of the arrival of Gneisenau and Scharnhorst, who spent a frustrating day steaming around they empty waters around Narvik vainly looking for targets. The fortuitous escape of Glorious was not enough to save her Captain, Guy D'Oyly-Hughes, from facing court-martial. His conduct during the naval actions of Norway. especially his poor handling of Glorious' air group, consistently ignoring the advice of the ships senior pilots, preferring to refer to his own flying experience. This might only have led to him being relieved of his command had it not been for his conduct on that final voyage, refusing to deploy any patrol aircraft even in the face of reports that there might be enemy warships in their vicinity. As the board of inquiry summarized it, "the captain's actions were at odds with both standard practice and good military conduct. He placed his ship at unnecessary hazard and had the reports of enemy activity proven accurate the consequences for HMS Glorious and her complement would have been grave." Only his previous distinguished service in World War I saved him from being drummed out of the Royal Navy. Instead he was demoted and transferred to a shore facility charged with the maintenance of submarines, where little or nothing was heard from him for the rest of the war. His post war attempts to reverse the verdict came to nothing. The Kriegsmarine’s failure to engage the retreating Allies prompted a furious outburst from Hitler and Raeder was lucky to hold onto his position, though it doubtless contributed to his being removed in favour of Admiral Doenitz in 1942 [4].

The Allied troops in Norway had fought bravely and their sacrifices should not be diminished because of the ultimate result of the Norwegian campaign, shaped as it was by events far removed from Trondheim, Bergen, and Narvik. That being said it can be argued, without intending to diminish those sacrifices, that the most significant casualty of the campaign fell not in Norway but in the Palace of Westminster [5].

[1] As previously mentioned 146th and 148th were sent to Norway OTL but it was a last-minute decision and of course by the time they deployed Trondheim and Bergen were firmly in German hands making their entire strategic position untenable.

[2] These RAF Squadrons were sent to Norway OTL, but 263 Squadron was still equipped with Gloster Gladiators.

[3] Obviously no one in IOTL is going to be thrilled by what seems like the considerable German success in taking Oslo and these failed offensives are just going to be another stick to beat Chamberlain, about who there will be more shortly.

[4] So the worst kept secret in the TL is out. Glorious does indeed make a clean getaway this time because Raeder hesitates to risk his big ships until its too late and he will lose his job sooner than OTL.

[5] Its That Man Again (obscure WWII reference), as we move on to the Norway Debate and the political fate of Neville Chamberlain.

 

[Garrison]

May 7th – May 10th 1940 – The Norway Debate​

Parliament calling for a debate on the Norwegian campaign was all but inevitable given the general dissatisfaction with the governments conduct of the campaign. The outcome though was unforeseen, except by Neville Chamberlain’s bitterest critics. Norway was the first British offensive operation of the war after the frustrating inactivity of the ‘phoney war’ and many were unhappy at the fact that the Germans had still managed to make landings and had not been driven back into the sea. They were happy with the conduct of the naval operations off Trondheim, Bergen, and Narvik, these being regarded as unmitigated successes. The political credit for these successes was not directed towards Chamberlain, however. Winston Churchill in his role as the First Lord of the Admiralty received the kudos, though he very publicly made it clear that these victories were the product of the courage and skill of the Royal Navy and was simply the latest example of their tradition of unflinchingly seeking out the enemy and bringing them to battle. Such protestations only served to further enhance Churchill’s standing with the public and in parliament. Ominously for Chamberlain even the Labour party was willing to speak favourably of Churchill, who was a vehement opponent of Socialism and long castigated among Labour ranks for his actions during the General Strike of 1926 [1]. Labour also made no secret of their view that fresh leadership was needed in No.10, especially if a government of national unity was to be formed, which was already a matter of serious discussion, much centring around which cabinet roles might be offered to Labour.

It did not help Chamberlain’s position that it was an open secret in Parliament that Churchill had been unimpressed by the ‘softening’ of Norway’s position vis a vis the Allies and had repeatedly pressed for preparations to be made to occupy Narvik and deny it to the Germans. Churchill had argued, correctly that control of Narvik would strike a body blow to the Nazi’s by cutting off their supply of Swedish Iron ore and indeed might force the Swedes to reconsider such supplies in the face of such decisive action by the British and French. Churchill’s arguments had been firmly rejected by Chamberlain and the dispatch of Renown and her force along with the training of the 146th and 148th in ‘winter warfare’ were seen as concessions to Churchill, not an active policy decision on Chamberlain’s part. Compounding the issue was the speech Chamberlain made to the Conservative National Union on April 3rd that Hitler "had missed the bus" [2].

All in all though, a vigorous defence of the conduct of operations In Norway when Chamberlain made his opening speech before Parliament on the first day of the debate on the 7th of May could well have rallied Conservative MPs behind him. Most who filed into the chamber had no intention of bringing down the PM even if many were less than impressed with his performance since the outbreak of war. Some were held in check by the notion that Churchill might be called on to fill the position, as they saw him as traitor for defecting to the Liberals decades earlier [3] and others remembered Gallipoli [4].

What Chamberlain offered the House on the 7th was the opposite of vigorous. He was heckled continuously from the Labour benches, including calls of ‘He’s missed the bus!’. When Chamberlain finally sat down the applause from his backbenchers were muted to say the least. Liberal MP Henry Morris-Jones said Chamberlain looked "a shattered man" and many years later Roy Jenkins, MP, Home Secretary during the Callaghan government of 1978-82 and parliamentary historian, described it as, Roy Jenkins calls it ‘an apathetic, spiteful, defensive speech which impressed nobody’ [5]. Possibly most importantly at the time the Conservative MP Leo Amery left the Chamber deeply troubled, though not quite yet ready to mutiny.

Chamberlain’s speech was followed by rebuttals from Clement Attlee for Labour, who again directed praise in the direction of Churchill while savaging Chamberlain’s performance, and Sir Archibald Sinclair, the leader of the Liberals who was equally scathing of the governments war record. This was followed by several speeches for and against the government. These though were very much along party lines and did little to sway people on either side. That changed dramatically when Admiral of the Fleet Sir Roger Keyes, who also happened to be the Conservative Member for Portsmouth North, rose to speak, wearing full Royal Navy dress uniform, resplendent with gold braid and a dazzling array of decorations. His speech opened with praise for the sterling performance of the men of the Royal Navy, which was received with thunderous applause. The barb was reserved for the end when he said, ‘much has been achieved, however if they had been more courageously and offensively employed, they might have done much to prevent these unhappy events occurring and much to influence unfriendly neutrals’ [6]. This changed the tenor of the entire debate. It was now clear that Chamberlain’s tenure as Prime Minister was on the line.

The climax of the debate on the 7th fell to Leo Amery. He had the tacit support of Clement Davies, chairman of the All Party Action Group, who on hearing Amery had been called urged him to make his full speech and provide him with time to round up as many MPs as possible despite it being dinner time. There were approximately 60 MPs in the AAAP, all of them united by opposition to Chamberlain’s ‘timid’ policies. The house soon began to fill up and Amery rewarded them with a rousing speech culminating in the famous quote, ‘You have sat too long here for any good you have been doing. Depart, I say, and let us have done with you. In the name of God, go’ [7]. This was a shattering blow for Chamberlain, his government had been mortally wounded, even if Chamberlain himself wasn’t quite ready to concede the point, yet.

On the morning of the 8th there was a meeting of the Labour party Parliamentary Executive and amid some dissent it was decided that Labour would force a division at the end of that day’s debate, in practical terms turning an otherwise routine adjournment motion into a confidence vote whose result could bring the Government down. Thus, when Herbert Morrison opened the second day of debate at 4pm he substantially raised the stakes by announcing, ‘In view of the gravity of the events which we are debating, that the House has a duty and that every Member has a responsibility to record his particular judgment upon them, we feel we must divide the House at the end of our Debate to-day’ [8].

On the other side Chamberlain had done nothing to change his strategy and seemed mired in the same lethargy that had afflicted him on the 7th. Lord Halifax later wrote that in his opinion, “Neville was spent by the time of the debate. He had never truly recovered from the physical and mental wounds received at Hendon. In hindsight I believe he saw his commitment to rearming not as means to prepare Britain for war but the last hope of retaining peace. If Hitler was unwilling to listen to reason perhaps the prospect of facing a fully armed and ready British Empire would stay his hand. When that last hope was lost Neville was rather out of his depth, he simply could not apply the ruthlessness demanded of wartime and it simply drained away his last reserves of energy’ [9].

With hindsight it is possible to speculate that Chamberlain’s advancing cancer also played a role. Regardless when Morrison made his announcement Chamberlain insisted on responding by making a statement that included the comment, ‘I have friends in the house’. This came across to some as sounding more like a question than a statement and one Conservative MP responded by calling out, ‘Not I’. It was the beginning of another torrid day for Chamberlain as the main speaker was to be Lloyd-George, PM in the last great war and no friend of Chamberlain. It was the last major speech he would deliver in the House and Lloyd-George did not pull punches. He summed up the position of Chamberlain’s opponents in a few sentences ‘Will anybody tell me that he is satisfied with what we have done about aeroplanes, tanks, guns, especially anti-aircraft guns? Is anyone here satisfied with the steps we took to train an Army to use them? Nobody is satisfied. The whole world knows that. And here we are in the worst strategic position in which this country has ever been placed’.

Churchill intervened, taking full responsibility for the actions of the Admiralty. Lloyd-George responded by remarking, ‘The right honourable Gentleman must not allow himself to be converted into an air-raid shelter to keep the splinters from hitting his colleagues.’ Whether this was spontaneous or preprepared the intent was clear, to sever Churchill from any censure that might fall on the Prime Minister and his close associates in cabinet. If anyone was in any doubt who the opposition benches wanted to see in Number 10 Lloyd-George’s word surely dispelled it. The end of Lloyd-George’s speech was all but inevitable, ‘I say solemnly that the Prime Minister should give an example of sacrifice, because there is nothing which can contribute more to victory in this war than that he should sacrifice the seals of office.’ This was greeted by stunned silence in the House [10].

There were a few other speeches, none with anything like the impact of Lloyd-George’s, and it fell to Churchill to wrap up for the government. He had to tread a careful path of defending the government, not sounding boastful about the Royal Navy’s achievements, while still subtly reminding the House that he had not been involved in some of the critical decision making. Somehow, he threaded the needle and even when he faced some hard questions about Norway it was clear the finger was being pointed elsewhere by the MPs. After Churchill finished there was a great deal of hubbub in the House but finally at 23:00 the Speaker moved to adjourn the House and the division was carried out and the government won by 278 to 201 [11].

This was a textbook example of a pyrrhic victory. The government had a notional majority of 213 and more than 60 Conservative MPs had abstained and forty or so other who could normally be counted on to support the government had crossed the floor to vote with the opposition. Some of course tried to look on the bright side as a win was a win after all.

There was a third day of debate on the 9th but after the division the night before it was little more than a formality. Chamberlain spent much of the day trying to form a coalition with Labour and the Liberals and their response was unequivocal. They would join a cabinet under a Conservative Prime Minister, so long as that Prime Minister was not Neville Chamberlain, he must resign and allow a new leader to form the coalition. Chamberlain was left with no choice but to stand down. There have been considerable contradictory claims as to the path that led to Churchill being chosen over Halifax, but It can all be stripped down to a simple fact; parliament was not willing to accept a PM tainted by appeasement and such a close association with Chamberlain, which left one choice. The handover of power happened in the evening of the 10th of May, the very same day the long feared German attack in the west began [12].

[1] Obviously Churchill’s role in the General Strike is outside the scope of this TL. The article below is very politically loaded, but that is useful in that gives a flavour of how the Labour Party viewed Churchill in that timeframe.

Churchill vs The Miners: His ‘Darkest Hour’

[2] Chamberlain really said that in OTL, here I attribute it to a final burst of optimism after the Phoney War seemed to indicate the war might not be as bad as he had feared and perhaps Britain might escape unscathed.

[3] Again outside the scope:

Winston Churchill's Liberal Party years, 1904–1924

[4] and for those who may not be familiar:

Winston Churchill’s World War Disaster

[5] A butterfly from the future as of course in OTL Margaret Thatcher came to power in 1979. Jenkin’s comment is a modification of one he did record in OTL.

[6] This is Keyes OTL actions with some small modifications to the quote to reflect the greater success of the Royal Navy off Norway.

[7] Amery’s speech is exactly as OTL, because how could I possibly improve on that?

[8] Also as per OTL

[9] But that quote is totally made up.

[10] This is Lloyd George’s OTL speech. There’s a certain irony here in that Lloyd George’s memoirs had laid heavy emphasis on the naval blockade and internal revolution finishing off the Germans in WWI, helping foster the ‘stab in the back myth’ that Hitler used to such good effect. He also was one of those desperate to make peace in the summer of 1940.

[11] The tone and content of Churchill’s remarks are different because of Norway, but he did indeed try to defend the government and the outcome of the vote is basically the same as OTL, with the numbers being just a bit different from OTL.

[12] Which very much reflects my view that any notion of Halifax taking over was wishful thinking on the part of his supporters. And here’s the Wikipedia page that discusses the debate and acted as a source for a lot of the little details in this update:

Norway Debate

 

[Garrison]

January 17th - May 10th – 1940 – The Low Countries and France - Planning​

The attack on the Low Countries had as mentioned previously originally been scheduled for January, that Case Yellow wasn’t launched until May reflected both the need for greater preparation and the infighting amongst the Generals of the Heer over the shape of Case Yellow. There were two basic proposals. One envisioned a drive through the Low Countries that hooked east, getting behind the Allied defences, potentially opening the way for a hook to the east to attack Paris and seizing much of the Channel coast to provide bases for the Luftwaffe and U-Boats to attack Britain. This version originated with Colonel-General Franz Halder. It shared many similarities with the WWI Schlieffen Plan, which its critics used as a basis to attack it. Those who supported the plan would point out that the failure in WWI could be attributed to soldiers on foot simply not being able to maintain the pace required to make it work. The Wehrmacht had Panzer divisions now, they could achieve what the Army of Imperial Germany could not [1].

On the other side you had officers like Generalleutnant Erich von Manstein and later Generalleutnant Heinz Guderian. Manstein initially proposed carrying out the same drive into the Low Countries as the OKH plan, but with the addition of a thrust towards Sedan, advancing south before turning north and striking into the rear of the Allied forces. This plan was certainly bolder than the Halder version and it reached the ears of Hitler courtesy of members of Manstein’s staff and a distinctly unauthorized personal meeting with the Fuhrer. Hitler expressed some interest, but it still didn’t quite resonate with Hitler as the swift, decisive strike that would swiftly finish the French that he truly wanted. His interest was cooled considerably once the General staff got their hands on Manstein’s ideas. OKH were of the firm opinion that once Manstein’s ‘hook’ turned north it would be completely exposed to a counterattack unless substantial further divisions were taken from the primary attack into Belgium to cover it. Significantly the General Staff invoked the spectre of a much stronger British deployment providing substantial reserves that could pivot to counter such a move. OKH had revised their estimates of projected British strength in France upwards from 10-12 divisions to 18-20. This was a significant exaggeration of the actual British deployment in the BEF and it is hard not to conclude that this was done deliberately to pour cold water on Manstein’s plan. In this OKH succeeded, for now at least. This rejection nearly resulted in Manstein’s sacking as Chief of Staff of Army Group A owing to his having bypassed the chain of command to present his plan. Fearing though that this decision would anger Hitler OKH thought better of it.

It was only in January that Heinz Guderian entered the picture to assist Manstein in reshaping his plan. He should have arrived in Koblenz some weeks earlier as commander of the XIX Army Corps. The night before his departure Guderian had attended a dinner with several of his fellow officers and suffered a serious bout of food poisoning. He spent several weeks recovering in hospital and chafed as the doctors refused to certify him as fit to return to duty for far longer than he judged necessary. By January he was fully recovered and in Koblenz, to the point where he joked that, ‘The chef must have been a Frenchman trying to sabotage the war effort’. In 1940 one could make such jokes in the Reich, had it been 1943 the Gestapo might have made life very uncomfortable for the unfortunate chef. Guderian had heard of Manstein’s proposals and now in a series of informal discussions Guderian helped develop the plan into its final form. This envisioned the attack on Sedan as the primary axis of attack, with the thrust into the Low Countries simply acting as diversion to draw the best of the Allied forces forward while the main thrust drove for the coast and severed the lines of communication of the British and French forces. They finalized their plan by the middle of February, which left the small matter of bringing it to the Fuhrer’s attention [2].

This revision of the plan was certainly the kind of bold move that would appeal to Hitler, unfortunately for Manstein and Guderian forewarned was forearmed as far as OKH were concerned, meaning that they intended to ensure that any ideas about Case Yellow only reached Hitler after it had been properly evaluated, which in the case of Manstein’s bright ideas OKH intended to take its time over. Even so Hitler was intrigued by the plan and its opponents had to work overtime to dissuade the Fuhrer, and this time Manstein was fired, temporarily at least. OKH portrayed the plan as reckless, overextending the Panzer forces, and leaving them vulnerable to the powerful French reserves positioned to protect Sedan (There were indeed significant French forces in reserve, but as will be explained they were most assuredly not there to protect Sedan) and that a counterattack could wipe out the entire force. The plan was the subject of much discussion between Hitler and OKH, who delayed things long enough to play their trump card, namely that any radical changes to the plan at this point would mean postponing Case Yellow until June or even July. Frustrated with the repeated delays that he already endured this finally persuaded Hitler to commit to the Halder Plan. He did insist however insist on allowing Manstein to continue refining his plan, and retaining his post, to use as diversion or follow up attack. There was much grumbling at OKH. This though would prove to be one of the few times, arguably even the only time, that Hitler’s strategic meddling benefitted the Wehrmacht. OKH did modify their plan to include a mobile force built around a single Panzer Division, to exploit any opportunities that might arise in the Sedan area and more importantly to placate the Fuhrer [3].

For all their talk of bold advances the final force disposition decided on by Halder and his planners only committed six Panzer Divisions to the initial assault, with three in reserve and one assigned to Manstein’s potential ‘diversionary attack’ from Sedan. The logic of holding the three divisions back was that committing them in the first wave of attack would overcrowd the battle space. Also, these fresh divisions could be used to maintain momentum as other formations suffered the disorganization and exhaustion inevitable from engaging in a rapid battle of manoeuvre. These formations would intervene decisively in the battle, just not in the way that Halder was thinking [4].

The final disposition of forces saw Army Group A under Von Rundstedt assigned for the main thrust into Belgium with and forty-five infantry divisions, including six Panzer Divisions and three Motorized Divisions. Army Group B under Bock contained twenty-nine divisions, including one Panzer Division and was positioned to counter any French moves north from Sedan or to carry out a diversionary attack based on Manstein’s plan, though in reality they were regarded as little more than reserves and saw no action in the opening phases of the battle. Likewise, the nineteen divisions of Army Group C under Leeb faced the Maginot Line and were not expected to take part in the initial stages of the battle. In reserve were three Panzer Divisions and forty-five infantry divisions.

On the British and French side this choice of strategy was fortuitous, as it was the one they had shaped all their plans to counter. They had dismissed the idea of a German attack on the Maginot Line as even the Germans wouldn’t be so foolish as to attack those ‘impenetrable’ fortresses and the Ardennes were judged impassable, despite considerable evidence to the contrary. What the Allies had formulated was called the Dyle Plan or Plan D. It envisioned an Allied advance through Belgium to hold any German offensive along the line of the river Dyle. It was a simple plan and given its convergence with German intentions it seemed entirely feasible, with a high likelihood of success. In reality Plan D was riddled with problems.

The first and most basic issue was that the British and French forces weren’t in Belgium. The Belgians had insisted on maintaining strict neutrality after the remilitarization of the Rhineland. Even after Poland and Norway, they still adamantly refused to let any foreign troops on their soil. There seems to have been some anti-British and anti-French sentiment at work and a belief that any foreign troops would constitute an occupation. This meant that instead of being able to deploy at once to the Dyle Line the Allies would face crossing much of Belgium, potentially fighting their way through refugees heading the other way. This problem was compounded by an assumption made by the Allies that they would have six days warning of German mobilization for an attack. This might have been true in January when the original attack was called off, by May much of the German forces had been left in forward positions that meant the Allies could expect three days warning at most [5].

As for the powerful reserve that had so concerned Halder it was being held to either reinforce the Dyle Plan or possibly counter any attacks that threatened the Maginot Line. There was no consideration of using it in the Ardennes either defensively or offensively. It had even been suggested that this reserve be reduced to reinforce Plan D. Gamelin, blessed with an abundance of caution, dismissed this idea. Though as the fighting in Belgium went on this reserve would be steadily whittled away [6].

There was a more fundamental flaw in Plan D, one that had nothing to do with jumping off points or timing. This flaw was that it was entirely defensive in nature. There were no contingencies to go onto the offensive if the Allies repulsed the German attack or simply checked the initial advance. To put it another way Plan D was entirely reactive plan and lacked any flexibility. Much the same could be said of the French command structure. The French high command expected their subordinates to obey orders to the letter. The German commanders expected their subordinates to show initiative in achieving their objectives. This difference explains much of what happened during May.

To face the German attack there were eight regular Dutch divisions plus two of reserves, eighteen regular Belgian divisions plus four reserve divisions. The BEF consisted of thirteen infantry divisions (the British forces were the only one to be fully motorized at this time) and the rough equivalent of one division of armour though not organized as such initially. One further British Division was assigned to the French forces along the Maginot line. The British did have several further divisions of infantry and more armour that could have been deployed, but they had been held back partly owing to concerns about the logistics chain supporting them and partly in the hope they might be deployed for offensive operations in Norway. For Plan D the French deployed the 7th Army under Giraud, consisting of seven divisions, including one light mechanized division and one motorized division. Further south was 1st Army Group under Billote consisting of twenty divisions, including one light mechanized division. In reserve were some twenty-five divisions, including three armoured divisions, one motorized division and one light mechanized division. It seemed the odds favoured the Allies, if they could co-ordinate their actions with the neutral Belgians and Dutch and if they could move quickly enough to hold the Germans at the Dyle. Neither of these preconditions for success were met [7].

[1] It does sound like a very WWI plan, but it was probably realistic given that most of the Heer was still a WWI army.

[2] So yes, I’ve derailed ‘Sickle Cut’ for the time being, but given how much of a one man, or two man, band it was I don’t feel it would take that much for the entire scheme to falter.

[3] Meaning Sickle Cut is down but not out.

[4] You may feel free to guess where those Panzers turn up.

[5] And none of this is invented, even if the Germans do exactly what they expect the Dyle Plan is a big ask.

[6] In OTL the reserve was reduced to reinforce Plan D after Mechelen, making the capture of those plans the single worst intelligence ‘coup’ of the war.

[7] So other than the British the Allied/neutral forces are as OTL and with the same lack of co-ordination or unified command as OTL. Essentially the Germans have been handicapped here but the French are still stuck with Gamelin and the British are going to have to conform to the plans of the senior partner for the time being.