Chapter 128, Whitehall, 7 June 1941
Ironside stalked to Downing Street, a determined pace to his gait. The summons to Downing Street had been unexpected; Ironside had been wallowing in semi-retirement as his Royal Commission had started to wind down. As he continued through Whitehall, clasping the note of invitation in his hand, he allowed personal ambition to creep into his thoughts.
Perhaps, he pondered,
war is to be declared after all. Ironside would be astonished if the Halifax Government declared war over the invasion of Russia; he had enquired of Gort, nominally still in command of the BEF, whether he had been required by the War Office. But Gort had not replied and Ironside’s imagination had been unleashed. Yes, he, Ironside, was older than Gort, but Halifax had put him in command of the Royal Commission with Gort very much a junior. Ironside, half hoping and half dreading, had been expecting a Governorship for his final appointment, perhaps Malta, perhaps Gibraltar, or even some Godforsaken West Indian outpost. The prospect of not being put out to pasture, of still being useful, was very appealing to him.
He entered Downing Street with a confident air, nodding to Lord Dunglass, a key Halifax loyalist, who smiled in acknowledgment. Entering Number 10, he found himself being greeted by Halifax’s valet and being seated in the Drawing Room. He continued with his reflection.
Dill’s not going to move as CIGS, he’s too like Halifax in style, he thought to himself.
They’re both thinkers, not doers. But perhaps Gort is going to move. Perhaps I’ve got the Expeditionary Force.
“General Ironside,” Cole said in his quiet, Yorkshire accent. “The Prime Minister will see you now.”
Ironside was up instantly, following Cole upstairs to the Prime Minister’s study. Pausing to take a breath, he entered Halifax’s lair.
“Genewal,” the Prime Minister said warmly. “It is a agweeable to see you again. May I offer you a glass of port?”
“Er, yes, My Lord, I would like that,” Ironside said in his offhand manner. “As ever, your invitation was intriguing.”
Halifax allowed a hint of a smile to show. Ironside was fascinated by the man’s cool, detached air. The German Armies and the Soviet Armies were slaughtering one another in the greatest conflict ever seen, literally millions of men in combat, and Halifax was offering Ironside a tipple of port as if nothing should trouble their afternoon. The Prime Minister was reading a sheet of paper, but Ironside could not (discreetly) see what was typed on it. He was curious as to its content.
“I am finding this weather an irksome twial,” Halifax mumbled softly. “I shall shortly be wetiwing to my estates in Yorkshire. Will you be wetiwing anywhere?”
Ironside bristled at ‘retiring’. Was it a sublte hint? “I did not intend to leave London,” he said slowly.
Halifax looked him, one old man to another. “You should, you know. It is fwightfully oppwessive in town.”
Ironside was totally bewildered. The summons had been so sudden, but now the Prime Minister was happily engaged in polite conversation. “I don’t mind it,” he managed to say neutrally.
Halifax looked up suddenly. “A wesult, no doubt, of your years of service in our armies. I recall our meeting in India during my time there. You were there for long?”
Ironside’s bewilderment deepened. “Ahm, er, not for long, about six years’ worth. I was GOC in Meerut District for a time.”
“And you were also, were you not, the Quartermaster General for all of India?”
“I was, Sir, in the thirties. But it was a long time ago.” Ironside was wary. What was Halifax up to? Auchinleck was generally well-regarded by the War Office, so why was Halifax fishing about his India record?
“A ha. What do you think about the current discontent?”
Ironside took a deep breath.
Where to start, he thought to himself. “A poor response from the authorities,” he said in a rush of words. He cursed himself for not thinking more deeply before replying.
But Halifax agreed. He nodded slowly. “Quite so, quite so. We need a clear leader out there, someone who can command wespect fwom all parties.”
Ah! He wants me to recommend someone for a job out there! “And who, Prime Minister, did you have in mind?”
Halifax looked directly at the General. “You. I intend to wecall Linlithgow. I would like to send you out as the new Vicewoy.”
Ironside was shocked. No, stunned would be a better description, for Ironside felt like he had been slammed in the chest. ‘Tiny’ Ironside was known throughout the Army, and society, as a man “of action”, not words. He himself described his talents as being those of “a doer, not a thinker”. Yet here he was, being asked to manage the administration of a subcontinent, countless millions under his rule. He realised, slowly, that he was being tasked with leadership; Halifax wanted his dynamic, energetic style to charge Delhi with proactive management of India.
“I’ll need a few days, My Lord. I need to think about this.”
Halifax nodded. “I hope that you feel able to accept. It will of course, cawwy with it pwomotion to Field Marshal, and His Majesty has offered a peewage. It will be a fascinating appointment. My own time in India I wemember with gweat...”
“My Lord!” Dunglass burst in on them. Ironside nearly dropped his port whilst Halfiax looked as if a bomb had gone off. “You need to come to the House, this instant!”
Dunglass fought to catch his breath. Halifax’s voice was icy. “And why, My Lord Dunglass, am I so wequired?”
“It’s, it’s Leo Amery!”
Halifax felt a chill sweep down his spine. “Genewal Ironside, would you please excuse me. I suspect my pwesence is needed elsewhere.”
With uncharacteristic informality, Halifax grabbed his cane stalked from the study.
[Game Effect] – A minor interlude whilst Halifax sucks in the impact of Barbarossa.
The Ironside gambit isn’t as mad as it looks – if you want a decent leader you could do worse than him, but Halifax is taking a gamble by placing in him a mainly political post. For Ironside, promotion to Field Marshal and a peerage will offer the final laurels on his long career, and a chance to sort India out is an attractive prospect.
But what is Amery up to, and why is Dunglass (later known simply as Sir Alec Home, a fairly dismal PM) worrying?
Morsky: The trouble with Barbarossa is that each regime (to the British) is as repugnant as the other. Neither Hitler or Stalin is a natural friend to the Empire and I that think those who would wish to do something (but then, do what?) would struggle to gain popular support.
Kurt_Steiner: Halifax is, I think, gambling that any victor would dominate a Europe in ruins, allowing an intact Britain to act from a position of strength. But I agree, it’s a risky strategy.
El Pip: I think that Barbarossa shows the weakness of the Government in foreign affairs (they’re doing reasonably domestically) in its stark reality.
Trekaddict: And that reality is looming large in Halifax’s thinking.
Atlantic Friend: I always find this line of thought a bit unlikely – I think it was Evelyn Waugh (or was it Wodehouse?) who mocked the Indians with the simple reply to their “Brits out” campaign: “and whom would you rather have? The Japanese?”
Enewald: Ah Enewald! Liking the new Avatar...
Kurt_Steiner: The Abdication Crisis was a key moment in raising Halifax’s reputation. He was staunchly anti Wallis, and supported the then Duke of York (later of course King George VI) through the stress of it all. His role was understated, quiet, refined, and marked him out as a favourite of the new Royal regime.
BritishImperial: I don’t think that the Germans would listen at all. In fact I think that they will receive the visit, nod politely, and send the British home empty-handed.
DonnieBaseball: I agree – there just isn’t the resolve (yet) in the establishment to do anything.
El Pip: I’m not sure – I think that public opinion (assuming he survives the crisis) would push for retaliation.
OutsiderSubtype: Well, the country would be left in Templewood’s hands so all should be well there. But I agree, Moscow 1941 is not my idea of a weekend break!
Nathan Madien: I agree, but Halifax doesn’t and will try regardless of the realities staring him in the face.
MITSGS John: Welcome aboard! Henderson is so utterly awful not even this AAR would feature him. But the Wilson ploy is worrying – it links Lord H with Chamberlain (as if he isn’t there already!) and further sets him up for a mess.
Nathan Madien:
Sir Humphrey:
Morsky:
Arilou: Without giving anything away, the Halifax loss of temper is hilarious.
Trekaddict: Not necessarily...
BritishImperial::rofl:
Atlantic Friend::rofl:
Nathan Madien::rofl:
VILenin: You’re undoubtedly of sound opinion, and I agree that Halifax is a man in the right place at the wrong time. Europe is already a mess, and given the war now looming things are only going to get worse.
This a watershed – I think a Captain Picard “this far no further” moment is pushing it a bit, but the Cabinet is in chaos and the PM is now deeply unpopular. All that is needed now is a determined figure eager to cause trouble.
And no, Trekaddict, you cannot go back and volunteer...
Bafflegab: Eden was many things, but I think at this stage he’s hedging his bets. By leading the mission to Moscow he can gain the credit for trying, whilst blaming Halifax for the eventual failure. Eden, and maybe Stanley, is quietly and carefully placing himself for the leadership election he knows to be coming. The actual timing of the contest is still uncertain.
Arilou: Yes, but at Yalta (and Tehran) Churchill nearly walked out because FDR (a man I struggle to like) and Stalin talked about ‘liquidating’ 50,000 German officers. To Winston’s credit he treated both ‘statesmen’ like the idiots they were.
MITSGS John: Completely correct on both accounts. A SU inspired trial would have been a show trial at best.
El Pip: Soviet justice – an oxymoron I think!
Nathan Madien: I am starting to run out of Conservative MPs!
Bafflegab: Actually, as said above he’s in a great position – he’s shining in Parliament and gets to play the statesman abroad.
Nathan Madien: A fine comment on which to end.
Off on hols, update next Sunday (16 Aug)