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It's going to be a pain in that part of the body that begins where it ends the back if to free the whole China you have to endure many fights like this one in each province.
Those units are in an awful state in that screenshot, it's a good thing the Japanese don't have any forces available to take advantage of the masterplan to conquer China would suffer a slight setback. And could prove Halifax right! 
I'd have to concur, if everything is as bloody as what's happen so far then Britain will bleed herself dry before she reaches Shanghai, let alone Bejing or Tokyo.
Still inland is looking empty and 4th Army may be able to consolidate a decent enough position before the Japs can reinforce the area. But that's far too optimistic an outcome for this AAR so I'm fully expecting 4th Army to be thrown back into the sea on board ships which burst into flames and then sink whilst remaining on fire all the way down. And then explode.
Still inland is looking empty and 4th Army may be able to consolidate a decent enough position before the Japs can reinforce the area. But that's far too optimistic an outcome for this AAR so I'm fully expecting 4th Army to be thrown back into the sea on board ships which burst into flames and then sink whilst remaining on fire all the way down. And then explode.
Indeed, though that was obvious due to the vastly more believable plot and characterisation.This isn't Weltkriegschaft.
Still inland is looking empty and 4th Army may be able to consolidate a decent enough position before the Japs can reinforce the area. But that's far too optimistic an outcome for this AAR so I'm fully expecting 4th Army to be thrown back into the sea on board ships which burst into flames and then sink whilst remaining on fire all the way down. And then explode.
I want to meet the engineer who designed that ship.
Indeed, though that was obvious due to the vastly more believable plot and characterisation.
Ha.
Before LeJones marches into Tokio ~45, Weltkriegschaft has conquered it by 38. Far more believable.
Imagine that famous Photograph of Hirohito and McArthur with Brooke or O'Connor instead, or god forbid, Monty!
*digs into his file*
Looking at the pic, having a Brit instead of MacArthur might make the pic more stylish...especially with Monty's beret.
Indeed. The complete lack of hats, let alone jaunty hats, make that photo a comprehensively missed opportunity and a tragic millinery failure.
I'm guessing several long hops via transport account for the low org of 4th Army...
The line "Lions led by donkeys" comes to mind re: Hainan et al., but here with the pols playing the part of the donkeys ...
The line "Lions led by donkeys" comes to mind re: Hainan et al., but here with the pols playing the part of the donkeys ...
Given how tall MacArthur is in the photo, perhaps the camera guy didn't want him to wear a hat. You know, it might be blocked out at the top. In that case, it would be the camera guy's fault for the missed opportunity.
Apparently, having an high ego means wearing high-waisted pants. Look at how high MacArthur's pants is in the photo.
Dear lord your right, my mind must have protectively blanked them out.
Though now I see them I confess I would pay good money to see those trousers on Hirohito; they'd be at least up to his armpits!
Dear lord your right, my mind must have protectively blanked them out.
Though now I see them I confess I would pay good money to see those trousers on Hirohito; they'd be at least up to his armpits!
Or be hidden by them altogether.
A phrase (and subsequent argument) that is, for the better part absolute bunk amongst other things..
Chapter 204, Downing Street, 11 June 1942
Halifax sat back in his chair and allowed himself a smile at the American’s joke. The American was Mr Samuel ‘Sam’ Rayburn, the Speaker of the House of Representatives, and his easygoing, Southern charm had been highly successful during this visit to London in company with the third American Ambassador in as many years, Averall Harriman. The Americans had instantly captivated Lady Halifax, who had insisted that their initial morning meeting with the Prime Minister became a luncheon, and then, after Rayburn and Fitzroy, the genial, languid Speaker of the Commons, had clearly forged the beginnings of a friendship they had retired to Halifax’s drawing room for an afternoon of tall stories, political anecdotes and mutually dubious stories of fishing and shooting.
“I think the best hunting today is hunting the Japanese” Rayburn quipped, which earned a sour look from Halifax and a roar of laughter from Fitzroy.
“Of course, if it’s fishing you’re after, then His Lordship’s estate in Yorkshire offers some of the best fishing in all England.”
Rayburn looked with perceptible disdain at the quiet Halifax, who once again seemed distant, as if focussing on matters far away. Walter Monckton, filling in for Cadogan (who was still travelling home from his tour of the Far East) and Butler (who was claiming to be unwell) sensed that the afternoon was stalling and so asked Harriman how the war was going for the Americans.
“Well, all the talk back in the US has been about our victory off New Guinea.”
Monckton, who enjoyed an impressive level of access to military and state papers, feigned ignorance like the clever lawyer he was. “Tell me, I’ve not really read about it.”
“Well, after Nauru we knew that the Japanese were going for New Guinea and so we ordered a Naval concentration off the Solomons.”
“With our warships continuing to hawwy Nauwu,” Halifax, irritated by the Americans’ enthusiasm, muttered.
“Indeed, My Lord, and the threat of a powerful Royal Navy force to the North undoubtedly hindered the Japanese,” Harriman said respectfully, though Fitzroy detected the ghost of a smile on the new envoy’s face. “Anyway, we’re obviously determined to stop them from increasing their control of the Philippines. We knew where they were going to go and so we stopped them.”
“They did wetweat in good order,” Halifax said tartly.
“Losing one light carrier, eleven cruisers, twenty destroyers and a large number of aircraft, and smaller ships, is still the greatest Allied victory at sea so far.”
Halifax frowned at Harriman’s cheerful attitude. “But their cawwiers and battleships still elude us.”
Monckton smiled at Halifax’s riposte. “Might I enquire as to how you knew their intentions?”
Harriman nodded. “I am approved to tell you Gentlemen that we can read their messages. The Japanese Ro Code can be deciphered and we can read up to eighty-five percent of their messages.”
Halifax pursed his lips. “And will these be offered to Bwitish Intelligence?”
“Damned stupid of us to let you blunder around without them” Rayburn said acidly.
“Yes, Prime Minister, and we are grateful to General Menzies for sharing the output of the Singapore Intelligence Staff.”
Halifax ‘harrumphed’ grumpily at that. He looked out of the window, seemingly bored.
Monckton smiled as he tried to cover his master’s prickliness. “Was there any other formal business?”
Harriman nodded. “In gratitude to Longbow, which took a lot of the heat off the war in the Philippines, we would like to aid your war effort in the Pacific further.”
“A most gwacious gesture,” Halifax said warmly, as the two men left. Halifax sat back and knew that this pleasant day had been a deceptive prelude to what would be a gruelling evening. He was desperately tired and had a number of bruising meetings to endure. With Rayburn sent off for a dinner appointment in the Speaker’s apartments Halifax watched as the hands of his study’s carriage clock ticked slowly towards seven o’clock and the first appointment. When it came, with the muffled bangs of the door being opened and closed, Lady Halifax knocked gently on the stud door.
“My darling, they’re here. I presume that our visitors are not to be served any refreshments?” Lady Halifax wore a sour expression: she was not amused.
“You pwesume cowwectly. Are they seated?”
“Lord no! They are standing in the hallway.”
“Good. I will not be welcoming to such ingwates.” Halifax rose slowly, and walked with assumed dignity and calm down the winding Downing Street staircase.
“Gentlemen,” Halifax greeted Anthony Eden, Lord Beaverbrook, and a peevish looking Duff-Cooper. Wordlessly, Halifax led them to the Cabinet Room. They encircled him, but the tired Prime Minister seemed not to notice.
“Pway, Anthony, why have you come?”
“The editorials of a number of newspapers will, tomorrow, call for this country to fight this war with the determination and direction that it so desperately needs.” As if by prior arrangement, Duff-Cooper and Beaverbrook nodded their agreement.
“I see. And I pwesume you are here to pwopose a Government wesponse to this disappointing weporting?” Halifax said this in jest; but the comments flew over them.
“Prime Minister,” Eden began, his voice sounding strained, “it is clear that a careful revision of our leadership is needed.”
“With me to the scaffold first, Anthony?” The jesting was over: Halifax’s heart was flapping wildly and his stomach began to tighten. But he had one final fox’s tactic to avoid the chase. He would make someone else, Eden, the quarry.
“Not necessarily, My Lord. But...”
“Good, Anthony,” Halifax said, managing to sound calm. “If I am to be dwagged down, you shall all fall with me. If there have been ewwors, calamities even, in our pwosecution of this war, then as the Secwetawy of State wesponsible your cover fwom any hunters is slight.”
Eden tried and failed to hide his reaction; he looked visibly discomforted. “Such a move would signal the arrival of a Labour Government, or at best a National Government.”
“Then, Anthony, what are your pwoposals?”
“Firstly, Admiral Pound to be retired. Maurice agrees on this, and is already looking at changes in the Admiralty.”
Halifax nodded, it was an easy sacrifice. “I shall, of course, pwevail upon the Palace to awwange a comfortable sinecure for him; accepted.”
“Political changes.”
Halifax kept his voice free of emotion. “Go on.” Eden looked at Duff-Cooper, who handed Halifax a bullet-point list of ‘proposed changes’; to Halifax they were a blackmailer’s list of demands.
Halifax read them and closed his eyes. “I see that two of your Court favouwites are alweady here.” He pointed to Beaverbwook. “As far as your elevation is concerned I weluctantly agwee; as a bawwister fwiend would say in this situation, you have form. You can also wield your papers into line. You may become Minister for Information.” Halifax pulled off his spectacles and peered at them. “And what do I do about poor Wonald?”
Eden raised a hand to stop Duff-Cooper from replying, confirming Halifax’s suspicions that Beaverbrook and Duff-Cooper were here in a purely ‘ornamental’ function. “He has already offered to resign his position as Secretary of State for Air.” Eden pushed a sealed envelope towards Halifax, who suspected that it contained Ronald Cross’ resignation.
“A ha, so Wonald falls upon his sword?”
“Yes,” Eden said sharply. “He understands his duty.”
“I fear that this will pwove a longer evening than I owiginally envisaged.”
“Will you agree, Prime Minister,” Eden said in a fussy tone. He was picking at his fingernails and Halifax knew that he was very nervous.
“I have a counter-pwoposal. You have disturbed the house, you have disturbed my woutine, and you have not acted as a Gentleman. I have no choice but to accept the majowity of these suggestions. I will make my weshuffle and will inform you via the Chief Whip of the changes.”
Eden was stung by Halifax’s rebuke. “And if I do not agree?”
“Then I shall tender my wesignation and invite His Majesty to form a National Government at this time of emergency.” Halifax looked earnestly at Eden. “You may become Pwime Minister, but it will be a hollow victowy. And the pwice of Attlee’s coopewation will be high.”
Eden and his cronies left a Downing Street busying with reporters flocking to the rumours of political upheaval. Halifax’s parting shot was an imperious order that Eden and Beaverbrook remain prepared for a summons to Downing Street later that evening.
Sir Howard Kingsley Wood, Secretary of State for Dominion Affairs and Air Chief Marshal Dowding, Chief of the Air Staff, walked together through the crowds in uneasy silence. As the news of the setbacks in the War became apparent both men now felt the sting of public criticism as the newspapers turned against them. Wood, the politician, was particularly vulnerable, especially as the poor handling of the Australian defenders of Nauru became apparent and the failure to secure South African and Canadian commitment to the campaigns in India and China was being keenly felt by the rest of the Commonwealth. They entered 10 Downing Street and were taken to the Cabinet Room. Dowding was asked to wait outside until Kingsley Wood had met with the Prime Minister.
“Sir Howard,” Halifax said rather formally, “I pwesume you are alweady aware of why I asked you here?”
“I am, My Lord,” Wood said heavily. “I am to be dismissed.”
Halifax nodded, finding that he struggled to look Wood directly in the eye. “You have stwuggled in your wole. I am wequesting that you accept a position in the Royal Commission on reform of the governance of India.”
Wood nodded; it was better than an outright dismissal and he accepted with good grace. “My replacement?”
“Duff-Cooper. His first task is to rebuild the confidence of the Austwalians. And then he is going to Canada.”
Wood, his political ambition destroyed, walked out of Downing Street with evident dejection. Dowding, bristling with irritation, walked into the Cabinet Room.
“Air Chief Marshal,” Halifax began after waving Dowding to a seat. “I thought that you should know that Wonald Cwoss has wesigned with immediate effect.”
“I see, Prime Minister,” Dowding said carefully.
“There was some discussion as to whether the performance of the Air Force over India, Siam and China mewits your departure as well. I have decided that you are to wemain in post. Hawold Macmillan will be the new Secwetawy of State for Air.”
Dowding nodded, whilst Halifax paused to collect his thoughts. He did not like Macmillan, but his elevation had been one of Eden’s key requirements. Halifax looked at Dowding with some concern.
“He is vewy much the junior member of the militawy ministers, and is well below the seniowity in the Cabinet enjoyed by his pwedecessor.”
“I understand, My Lord,” Dowding said primly.
Halifax raised from his seat, concluding the brief interview. Dowding left with a crisp shutting of the door behind him. As far as Eden was concerned, the reshuffle was practically completed. There was one final sacrifice to make, this one perhaps the worst. Halifax stared out of the window, looking over the gardens as night fell. Monckton entered quietly.
“Could you fetch Wab? And have him enter thwough the back door. Oh,” Halifax suddenly looked happier, “I wish for you wun an ewwand. I’ve witten it down. Is Oliver here?”
“He is, My Lord.”
“Then please show him in.”
Oliver Stanley, the ever shrewd Chancellor of the Exchequer, wondered just what a major shake-up of Britain’s war effort had to do with him. Halifax knew that he knew something: rumours of an Eden putsch had been gathering for days. But Halifax suspected that Oliver Stanley, touchingly, just did not realise how essential to the Party’s survival he was. The 1940 election had been a shock, as it showed that were so many areas where the traditional Conservatives just weren’t palatable. For Halifax realised that there were, really, three Britains, three visions of their past, present and future. The first Britain was that most traditionally rural, traditionally English of scenes. This was the gentle idyll of the country village, the quiet churchyard, prosperous market town and the rhythmical routine of seasonal life. It was the Britain of fox hunting, the gentry, haymaking, local businesses and respect for your neighbour. Halifax belonged steadfastly to this vision of Britain, as did Templewood, Hankey, Churchill and Eden (despite his knowledge of industrial life). Butler too, in his own academic way, was happy in this traditionally Tory view. For, despite the occasional Liberal voter, this was solid Conservative territory. Not so the second type of Britain, the Victorian towns and industrial areas of the working classes. To Halifax this was a foreign land of shipyards, slag heaps, rows of terraces and strange sounding football teams. Eden (with his coalfield-owning family background) aside, there was little experience of this world, and with his background of businesses and social reform Lord Woolton was now sorely missed. These town and villages, the Liberal professionals and Tory businessmen excepted, were Labour heartlands. Attlee, Halifax knew, had worked hard to improve the lot of the industrial poor in his native London. Union membership was strong, and a man was defined closely by his trade. And to Halifax it was totally, utterly, terra incognita.
But there was a third Britain out there, Halifax was starting to realise, a new Britain. He recollected Priestley’s description of “the new postwar England...of arterial and by-pass roads, of filling stations and factories that look like exhibition buildings, of giant cinemas and dance-halls and cafes, bungalows, with tiny garages, cocktail bars, Woolworths, motor-coaches, wireless, hiking, factory girls looking like actresses, greyhound racing and dirt tracks, swimming pools, and everything given away for cigarette coupons.” Much of this was totally inconceivable to Halifax; his wife told him some of it, of course, but he felt that a new, fatter lower middle class was emerging, one satisfied by the cheap mass-produced goods flooding in from the Americas and the new light industries (Halifax didn’t really see the difference between ‘light’ industry and any other type of industry) that had sprang up in the thirties and early forties. Their voting intentions were still, theoretically, waiting to be claimed by the parties, and in Oliver Stanley they had a champion. His house building programme had tried to house them, his incentives to factories had led to a small shopping boom, and they liked his desperate attempts to keep them employed and not taxed too heavily.
“Oliver,” Halifax began, feeling particularly unhappy. “Do sit. I am wather busy and wefuse to beat awound the bush. I wish to move you fwom the Exchequer to the position of Foweign Secwetawy.”
“Now, My Lord,” Stanley began. But Halifax’s expression silenced him.
“You wish to pwotest. You wish to continue your gweat policies?” There was a hint of sarcasm in Halifax’s voice.
“There is a lot still to do. The economy isn’t even close to being on what I term an acceptable war footing. I’m struggling to find the funding for the King’s summer camps for boys. And the pound isn’t as strong as I would like.”
“If you do not accept, I will bweak the pwivilege of Cabinet to weveal that you turned it down.”
“That, My Lord, amounts to bullying!”
“It does, and I will, in time, wequest your forgiveness. But you must accept this most pewilous assignment.” Halifax practically hissed the request. “It will complete your appeal as the leader of our Party in the future,” he said quietly.
Butler was peering out of the drawing room window when Halifax found him, his face a vision of fear. News of the political blood-letting was bouncing around Whitehall and Butler, as a key Halifax loyalist, had grasped immediately how vulnerable he really was. He had hurried to Downing Street long before Monckton’s summons and Lady Halifax, unsure as how to receive him, had deposited him in a drawing room with a glass of brandy. Halifax watched silently for a few minutes as Butler stared with terror at the press; he was clearly anticipating having to explain his dismissal to them shortly.
“Wab, we may as well speak here,” Halifax said slowly. “Please sit.”
“My Lord, may I first say,” Butler stopped as Halifax raised a hand.
“Please, Wab, allow me to speak. You will no longer serve as Foweign Secwetawy.”
“But! Dear God! I cannot go! The reporters, the public...” Butler seemed visibly close to tears.
“You will not be summawily dismissed. I wish for you to become my Chancellor of the Exchequer.”
“But Oliver?”
“He will swap with you. He gets on with the Amewicans and will keep Anthony and his gwowing Empire at bay.”
“But, the Exchequer?” Butler looked overwhelmed already.
“You will be on the most powerful politicians at home. You will be a pwominent public figure, Wab. Your weputation gwowing as the economy wecovers.”
Butler looked beyond the walls of 10 Downing Street. He was already thinking of life next door.
[Game Effect] – Eden and the hawks finally gain near total ascendancy over our rather isolated PM.
The British war leadership:
Lord Halifax – remains as PM
Rab Butler – appointed Chancellor in place of Oliver Stanley
Oliver Stanley – appointed Foreign Secretary in place of Rab Butler.
Anthony Eden – remains as Secretary of State for War and Defence Coordination
Lord Hankey – remains as First Lord of the Admiralty
Harold Macmillan – appointed Secretary of State for Air in place of Ronald Cross
Lord Beaverbrook – appointed Minister for Information
Alfred Duff-Cooper – appointed Secretary of State for the Dominions in place of Kingsley-Wood
Lord Gort – remains as Chief of the Combined Commonwealth Staff
? – First Sea Lord as Admiral Pound is retired
General Wavell – remains as Chief of the General Staff
Air Chief Marshal Dowding – remains as Chief of the Air Staff
Thus the RN and RAF both have ‘losses’, neither of them massively controversial: Cross has consistently failed to manage Dowding (though whether Macmillan will do any better is anyone’s guess) and Pound was very vulnerable after Longbow (though both Eden and Admiral Horton, CINC Portsmouth, could have taken flak) and has visibly struggled to rise to the challenge of war. The old salt will probably be parcelled off, as Halifax suggests, to some nice little Governorship somewhere where he can live out his few remaining days. Though much maligned, Pound was probably the best man for the job when chosen to be 1SL and I think that the Government will really struggle to appoint an acceptable successor. El Pip and Trekaddict know my thoughts on this one.
Wood had to go: the Australians feel let down over Nauru, the Kiwis didn’t ‘get’ him and he is starting to appear timid in the face of Canadian/South African reluctance to commit forces. I’ve always wondered about Wood; whilst I think that he would have been a decent minister for a domestic department, Health, or Transport, he has really been too confrontation-averse in Dominions and is yet another Halifax-loyal minister to be packed off. Halifax has shown a loyalty to his former supporter by offering a face-saving way out: a Royal Commission into India. His replacement by Duff-Cooper further pushes Halifax and his supporters into the minority and paves the way for a tougher attitude from London.
The Butler-Stanley swap is a desperate measure, but a fairly canny one from Halifax. Eden’s demand that Butler leave the Foreign Office is accepted, but as so often with Halifax there is a sting in the tail as he is replaced, not by an Eden-loyalist, but by that arch moderate Oliver Stanley, a shrewd move that increases Stanley’s exposure and gives him the opportunity to pose on the world stage. For Butler, having done the world statesman bit, there is now the chance to become a popular minister at home: of all the departments, the Exchequer is the one that really matters as Britons look nervously at the state of the economy.
So will Halifax survive his own, mini version of “the night of the long knives?” Probably, but only just. Halifax is right in guessing that calls for a National Government are near; I think if he resigned there would be turmoil, with a fatally split Conservative Party having to form some sort of War Government. Halifax and Eden need one another at the moment.
Averell Harriman was of course the envoy of FDR to Churchill in those dark days when Britain was alone. He was a shrewd choice then and is a shrewd choice in this story; his charm and ability to get on with the British will mean that he is an envoy with real clout. There was no USN v IJN battle; the AI seemed totally incapable of bringing the fleets into combat so I made up a sort of “Battle of the Coral Sea”, which the Americans win to a slightly greater degree.
King George’s summer camps were designed to give boys from all backgrounds an opportunity for fun and recreation up until 1939 so I’m not surprised that the Halifax Cabinet is trying to resurrect them.
Sir Humphrey: Well, they’re the survivors of Longbow (with some reinforcements) mixed with the survivors who have been bounced around from port to port.
Nathan Madien: The chocolate comments were made to show how variable the supply state is; one of things that gets through is the chocolate for the troops!
Enewald: As said to Sir Humphrey, I wanted to show the weakened state of Fourth Army as a result of the disastrous raid on Hainan, as well as the cost of pacifying the initial Chinese toehold.
Kurt_Steiner: Well, June was a quiet month in the game so I needed something to keep the action going.
Zhuge Liang: Getting his men into order will be Brooke’s main challenge.
El Pip: You never know, my dear Pip, this might be the turning point!
Trekaddict:
El Pip: Thank you, Sir.
Nathan Madien: A challenge Barnes Wallis would be proud of!
Enewald:
Trekaddict: Well, Monty was short...
Nathan Madien: Or the very suave Alex...
El Pip:
DonnieBaseball: Spot on, Sir.
Nathan Madien:
Trekaddict: ‘twas ever thus, and would be with Monty too.
Nathan Madien/El Pip:
Sir Humphrey: A truism, as ever.
EDIT: Corrected error to show Lord Halifax as PM
Halifax sat back in his chair and allowed himself a smile at the American’s joke. The American was Mr Samuel ‘Sam’ Rayburn, the Speaker of the House of Representatives, and his easygoing, Southern charm had been highly successful during this visit to London in company with the third American Ambassador in as many years, Averall Harriman. The Americans had instantly captivated Lady Halifax, who had insisted that their initial morning meeting with the Prime Minister became a luncheon, and then, after Rayburn and Fitzroy, the genial, languid Speaker of the Commons, had clearly forged the beginnings of a friendship they had retired to Halifax’s drawing room for an afternoon of tall stories, political anecdotes and mutually dubious stories of fishing and shooting.
“I think the best hunting today is hunting the Japanese” Rayburn quipped, which earned a sour look from Halifax and a roar of laughter from Fitzroy.
“Of course, if it’s fishing you’re after, then His Lordship’s estate in Yorkshire offers some of the best fishing in all England.”
Rayburn looked with perceptible disdain at the quiet Halifax, who once again seemed distant, as if focussing on matters far away. Walter Monckton, filling in for Cadogan (who was still travelling home from his tour of the Far East) and Butler (who was claiming to be unwell) sensed that the afternoon was stalling and so asked Harriman how the war was going for the Americans.
“Well, all the talk back in the US has been about our victory off New Guinea.”
Monckton, who enjoyed an impressive level of access to military and state papers, feigned ignorance like the clever lawyer he was. “Tell me, I’ve not really read about it.”
“Well, after Nauru we knew that the Japanese were going for New Guinea and so we ordered a Naval concentration off the Solomons.”
“With our warships continuing to hawwy Nauwu,” Halifax, irritated by the Americans’ enthusiasm, muttered.
“Indeed, My Lord, and the threat of a powerful Royal Navy force to the North undoubtedly hindered the Japanese,” Harriman said respectfully, though Fitzroy detected the ghost of a smile on the new envoy’s face. “Anyway, we’re obviously determined to stop them from increasing their control of the Philippines. We knew where they were going to go and so we stopped them.”
“They did wetweat in good order,” Halifax said tartly.
“Losing one light carrier, eleven cruisers, twenty destroyers and a large number of aircraft, and smaller ships, is still the greatest Allied victory at sea so far.”
Halifax frowned at Harriman’s cheerful attitude. “But their cawwiers and battleships still elude us.”
Monckton smiled at Halifax’s riposte. “Might I enquire as to how you knew their intentions?”
Harriman nodded. “I am approved to tell you Gentlemen that we can read their messages. The Japanese Ro Code can be deciphered and we can read up to eighty-five percent of their messages.”
Halifax pursed his lips. “And will these be offered to Bwitish Intelligence?”
“Damned stupid of us to let you blunder around without them” Rayburn said acidly.
“Yes, Prime Minister, and we are grateful to General Menzies for sharing the output of the Singapore Intelligence Staff.”
Halifax ‘harrumphed’ grumpily at that. He looked out of the window, seemingly bored.
Monckton smiled as he tried to cover his master’s prickliness. “Was there any other formal business?”
Harriman nodded. “In gratitude to Longbow, which took a lot of the heat off the war in the Philippines, we would like to aid your war effort in the Pacific further.”
“A most gwacious gesture,” Halifax said warmly, as the two men left. Halifax sat back and knew that this pleasant day had been a deceptive prelude to what would be a gruelling evening. He was desperately tired and had a number of bruising meetings to endure. With Rayburn sent off for a dinner appointment in the Speaker’s apartments Halifax watched as the hands of his study’s carriage clock ticked slowly towards seven o’clock and the first appointment. When it came, with the muffled bangs of the door being opened and closed, Lady Halifax knocked gently on the stud door.
“My darling, they’re here. I presume that our visitors are not to be served any refreshments?” Lady Halifax wore a sour expression: she was not amused.
“You pwesume cowwectly. Are they seated?”
“Lord no! They are standing in the hallway.”
“Good. I will not be welcoming to such ingwates.” Halifax rose slowly, and walked with assumed dignity and calm down the winding Downing Street staircase.
“Gentlemen,” Halifax greeted Anthony Eden, Lord Beaverbrook, and a peevish looking Duff-Cooper. Wordlessly, Halifax led them to the Cabinet Room. They encircled him, but the tired Prime Minister seemed not to notice.
“Pway, Anthony, why have you come?”
“The editorials of a number of newspapers will, tomorrow, call for this country to fight this war with the determination and direction that it so desperately needs.” As if by prior arrangement, Duff-Cooper and Beaverbrook nodded their agreement.
“I see. And I pwesume you are here to pwopose a Government wesponse to this disappointing weporting?” Halifax said this in jest; but the comments flew over them.
“Prime Minister,” Eden began, his voice sounding strained, “it is clear that a careful revision of our leadership is needed.”
“With me to the scaffold first, Anthony?” The jesting was over: Halifax’s heart was flapping wildly and his stomach began to tighten. But he had one final fox’s tactic to avoid the chase. He would make someone else, Eden, the quarry.
“Not necessarily, My Lord. But...”
“Good, Anthony,” Halifax said, managing to sound calm. “If I am to be dwagged down, you shall all fall with me. If there have been ewwors, calamities even, in our pwosecution of this war, then as the Secwetawy of State wesponsible your cover fwom any hunters is slight.”
Eden tried and failed to hide his reaction; he looked visibly discomforted. “Such a move would signal the arrival of a Labour Government, or at best a National Government.”
“Then, Anthony, what are your pwoposals?”
“Firstly, Admiral Pound to be retired. Maurice agrees on this, and is already looking at changes in the Admiralty.”
Halifax nodded, it was an easy sacrifice. “I shall, of course, pwevail upon the Palace to awwange a comfortable sinecure for him; accepted.”
“Political changes.”
Halifax kept his voice free of emotion. “Go on.” Eden looked at Duff-Cooper, who handed Halifax a bullet-point list of ‘proposed changes’; to Halifax they were a blackmailer’s list of demands.
Halifax read them and closed his eyes. “I see that two of your Court favouwites are alweady here.” He pointed to Beaverbwook. “As far as your elevation is concerned I weluctantly agwee; as a bawwister fwiend would say in this situation, you have form. You can also wield your papers into line. You may become Minister for Information.” Halifax pulled off his spectacles and peered at them. “And what do I do about poor Wonald?”
Eden raised a hand to stop Duff-Cooper from replying, confirming Halifax’s suspicions that Beaverbrook and Duff-Cooper were here in a purely ‘ornamental’ function. “He has already offered to resign his position as Secretary of State for Air.” Eden pushed a sealed envelope towards Halifax, who suspected that it contained Ronald Cross’ resignation.
“A ha, so Wonald falls upon his sword?”
“Yes,” Eden said sharply. “He understands his duty.”
“I fear that this will pwove a longer evening than I owiginally envisaged.”
“Will you agree, Prime Minister,” Eden said in a fussy tone. He was picking at his fingernails and Halifax knew that he was very nervous.
“I have a counter-pwoposal. You have disturbed the house, you have disturbed my woutine, and you have not acted as a Gentleman. I have no choice but to accept the majowity of these suggestions. I will make my weshuffle and will inform you via the Chief Whip of the changes.”
Eden was stung by Halifax’s rebuke. “And if I do not agree?”
“Then I shall tender my wesignation and invite His Majesty to form a National Government at this time of emergency.” Halifax looked earnestly at Eden. “You may become Pwime Minister, but it will be a hollow victowy. And the pwice of Attlee’s coopewation will be high.”
Eden and his cronies left a Downing Street busying with reporters flocking to the rumours of political upheaval. Halifax’s parting shot was an imperious order that Eden and Beaverbrook remain prepared for a summons to Downing Street later that evening.
Sir Howard Kingsley Wood, Secretary of State for Dominion Affairs and Air Chief Marshal Dowding, Chief of the Air Staff, walked together through the crowds in uneasy silence. As the news of the setbacks in the War became apparent both men now felt the sting of public criticism as the newspapers turned against them. Wood, the politician, was particularly vulnerable, especially as the poor handling of the Australian defenders of Nauru became apparent and the failure to secure South African and Canadian commitment to the campaigns in India and China was being keenly felt by the rest of the Commonwealth. They entered 10 Downing Street and were taken to the Cabinet Room. Dowding was asked to wait outside until Kingsley Wood had met with the Prime Minister.
“Sir Howard,” Halifax said rather formally, “I pwesume you are alweady aware of why I asked you here?”
“I am, My Lord,” Wood said heavily. “I am to be dismissed.”
Halifax nodded, finding that he struggled to look Wood directly in the eye. “You have stwuggled in your wole. I am wequesting that you accept a position in the Royal Commission on reform of the governance of India.”
Wood nodded; it was better than an outright dismissal and he accepted with good grace. “My replacement?”
“Duff-Cooper. His first task is to rebuild the confidence of the Austwalians. And then he is going to Canada.”
Wood, his political ambition destroyed, walked out of Downing Street with evident dejection. Dowding, bristling with irritation, walked into the Cabinet Room.
“Air Chief Marshal,” Halifax began after waving Dowding to a seat. “I thought that you should know that Wonald Cwoss has wesigned with immediate effect.”
“I see, Prime Minister,” Dowding said carefully.
“There was some discussion as to whether the performance of the Air Force over India, Siam and China mewits your departure as well. I have decided that you are to wemain in post. Hawold Macmillan will be the new Secwetawy of State for Air.”
Dowding nodded, whilst Halifax paused to collect his thoughts. He did not like Macmillan, but his elevation had been one of Eden’s key requirements. Halifax looked at Dowding with some concern.
“He is vewy much the junior member of the militawy ministers, and is well below the seniowity in the Cabinet enjoyed by his pwedecessor.”
“I understand, My Lord,” Dowding said primly.
Halifax raised from his seat, concluding the brief interview. Dowding left with a crisp shutting of the door behind him. As far as Eden was concerned, the reshuffle was practically completed. There was one final sacrifice to make, this one perhaps the worst. Halifax stared out of the window, looking over the gardens as night fell. Monckton entered quietly.
“Could you fetch Wab? And have him enter thwough the back door. Oh,” Halifax suddenly looked happier, “I wish for you wun an ewwand. I’ve witten it down. Is Oliver here?”
“He is, My Lord.”
“Then please show him in.”
Oliver Stanley, the ever shrewd Chancellor of the Exchequer, wondered just what a major shake-up of Britain’s war effort had to do with him. Halifax knew that he knew something: rumours of an Eden putsch had been gathering for days. But Halifax suspected that Oliver Stanley, touchingly, just did not realise how essential to the Party’s survival he was. The 1940 election had been a shock, as it showed that were so many areas where the traditional Conservatives just weren’t palatable. For Halifax realised that there were, really, three Britains, three visions of their past, present and future. The first Britain was that most traditionally rural, traditionally English of scenes. This was the gentle idyll of the country village, the quiet churchyard, prosperous market town and the rhythmical routine of seasonal life. It was the Britain of fox hunting, the gentry, haymaking, local businesses and respect for your neighbour. Halifax belonged steadfastly to this vision of Britain, as did Templewood, Hankey, Churchill and Eden (despite his knowledge of industrial life). Butler too, in his own academic way, was happy in this traditionally Tory view. For, despite the occasional Liberal voter, this was solid Conservative territory. Not so the second type of Britain, the Victorian towns and industrial areas of the working classes. To Halifax this was a foreign land of shipyards, slag heaps, rows of terraces and strange sounding football teams. Eden (with his coalfield-owning family background) aside, there was little experience of this world, and with his background of businesses and social reform Lord Woolton was now sorely missed. These town and villages, the Liberal professionals and Tory businessmen excepted, were Labour heartlands. Attlee, Halifax knew, had worked hard to improve the lot of the industrial poor in his native London. Union membership was strong, and a man was defined closely by his trade. And to Halifax it was totally, utterly, terra incognita.
But there was a third Britain out there, Halifax was starting to realise, a new Britain. He recollected Priestley’s description of “the new postwar England...of arterial and by-pass roads, of filling stations and factories that look like exhibition buildings, of giant cinemas and dance-halls and cafes, bungalows, with tiny garages, cocktail bars, Woolworths, motor-coaches, wireless, hiking, factory girls looking like actresses, greyhound racing and dirt tracks, swimming pools, and everything given away for cigarette coupons.” Much of this was totally inconceivable to Halifax; his wife told him some of it, of course, but he felt that a new, fatter lower middle class was emerging, one satisfied by the cheap mass-produced goods flooding in from the Americas and the new light industries (Halifax didn’t really see the difference between ‘light’ industry and any other type of industry) that had sprang up in the thirties and early forties. Their voting intentions were still, theoretically, waiting to be claimed by the parties, and in Oliver Stanley they had a champion. His house building programme had tried to house them, his incentives to factories had led to a small shopping boom, and they liked his desperate attempts to keep them employed and not taxed too heavily.
“Oliver,” Halifax began, feeling particularly unhappy. “Do sit. I am wather busy and wefuse to beat awound the bush. I wish to move you fwom the Exchequer to the position of Foweign Secwetawy.”
“Now, My Lord,” Stanley began. But Halifax’s expression silenced him.
“You wish to pwotest. You wish to continue your gweat policies?” There was a hint of sarcasm in Halifax’s voice.
“There is a lot still to do. The economy isn’t even close to being on what I term an acceptable war footing. I’m struggling to find the funding for the King’s summer camps for boys. And the pound isn’t as strong as I would like.”
“If you do not accept, I will bweak the pwivilege of Cabinet to weveal that you turned it down.”
“That, My Lord, amounts to bullying!”
“It does, and I will, in time, wequest your forgiveness. But you must accept this most pewilous assignment.” Halifax practically hissed the request. “It will complete your appeal as the leader of our Party in the future,” he said quietly.
Butler was peering out of the drawing room window when Halifax found him, his face a vision of fear. News of the political blood-letting was bouncing around Whitehall and Butler, as a key Halifax loyalist, had grasped immediately how vulnerable he really was. He had hurried to Downing Street long before Monckton’s summons and Lady Halifax, unsure as how to receive him, had deposited him in a drawing room with a glass of brandy. Halifax watched silently for a few minutes as Butler stared with terror at the press; he was clearly anticipating having to explain his dismissal to them shortly.
“Wab, we may as well speak here,” Halifax said slowly. “Please sit.”
“My Lord, may I first say,” Butler stopped as Halifax raised a hand.
“Please, Wab, allow me to speak. You will no longer serve as Foweign Secwetawy.”
“But! Dear God! I cannot go! The reporters, the public...” Butler seemed visibly close to tears.
“You will not be summawily dismissed. I wish for you to become my Chancellor of the Exchequer.”
“But Oliver?”
“He will swap with you. He gets on with the Amewicans and will keep Anthony and his gwowing Empire at bay.”
“But, the Exchequer?” Butler looked overwhelmed already.
“You will be on the most powerful politicians at home. You will be a pwominent public figure, Wab. Your weputation gwowing as the economy wecovers.”
Butler looked beyond the walls of 10 Downing Street. He was already thinking of life next door.
[Game Effect] – Eden and the hawks finally gain near total ascendancy over our rather isolated PM.
The British war leadership:
Lord Halifax – remains as PM
Rab Butler – appointed Chancellor in place of Oliver Stanley
Oliver Stanley – appointed Foreign Secretary in place of Rab Butler.
Anthony Eden – remains as Secretary of State for War and Defence Coordination
Lord Hankey – remains as First Lord of the Admiralty
Harold Macmillan – appointed Secretary of State for Air in place of Ronald Cross
Lord Beaverbrook – appointed Minister for Information
Alfred Duff-Cooper – appointed Secretary of State for the Dominions in place of Kingsley-Wood
Lord Gort – remains as Chief of the Combined Commonwealth Staff
? – First Sea Lord as Admiral Pound is retired
General Wavell – remains as Chief of the General Staff
Air Chief Marshal Dowding – remains as Chief of the Air Staff
Thus the RN and RAF both have ‘losses’, neither of them massively controversial: Cross has consistently failed to manage Dowding (though whether Macmillan will do any better is anyone’s guess) and Pound was very vulnerable after Longbow (though both Eden and Admiral Horton, CINC Portsmouth, could have taken flak) and has visibly struggled to rise to the challenge of war. The old salt will probably be parcelled off, as Halifax suggests, to some nice little Governorship somewhere where he can live out his few remaining days. Though much maligned, Pound was probably the best man for the job when chosen to be 1SL and I think that the Government will really struggle to appoint an acceptable successor. El Pip and Trekaddict know my thoughts on this one.
Wood had to go: the Australians feel let down over Nauru, the Kiwis didn’t ‘get’ him and he is starting to appear timid in the face of Canadian/South African reluctance to commit forces. I’ve always wondered about Wood; whilst I think that he would have been a decent minister for a domestic department, Health, or Transport, he has really been too confrontation-averse in Dominions and is yet another Halifax-loyal minister to be packed off. Halifax has shown a loyalty to his former supporter by offering a face-saving way out: a Royal Commission into India. His replacement by Duff-Cooper further pushes Halifax and his supporters into the minority and paves the way for a tougher attitude from London.
The Butler-Stanley swap is a desperate measure, but a fairly canny one from Halifax. Eden’s demand that Butler leave the Foreign Office is accepted, but as so often with Halifax there is a sting in the tail as he is replaced, not by an Eden-loyalist, but by that arch moderate Oliver Stanley, a shrewd move that increases Stanley’s exposure and gives him the opportunity to pose on the world stage. For Butler, having done the world statesman bit, there is now the chance to become a popular minister at home: of all the departments, the Exchequer is the one that really matters as Britons look nervously at the state of the economy.
So will Halifax survive his own, mini version of “the night of the long knives?” Probably, but only just. Halifax is right in guessing that calls for a National Government are near; I think if he resigned there would be turmoil, with a fatally split Conservative Party having to form some sort of War Government. Halifax and Eden need one another at the moment.
Averell Harriman was of course the envoy of FDR to Churchill in those dark days when Britain was alone. He was a shrewd choice then and is a shrewd choice in this story; his charm and ability to get on with the British will mean that he is an envoy with real clout. There was no USN v IJN battle; the AI seemed totally incapable of bringing the fleets into combat so I made up a sort of “Battle of the Coral Sea”, which the Americans win to a slightly greater degree.
King George’s summer camps were designed to give boys from all backgrounds an opportunity for fun and recreation up until 1939 so I’m not surprised that the Halifax Cabinet is trying to resurrect them.
Sir Humphrey: Well, they’re the survivors of Longbow (with some reinforcements) mixed with the survivors who have been bounced around from port to port.
Nathan Madien: The chocolate comments were made to show how variable the supply state is; one of things that gets through is the chocolate for the troops!
Enewald: As said to Sir Humphrey, I wanted to show the weakened state of Fourth Army as a result of the disastrous raid on Hainan, as well as the cost of pacifying the initial Chinese toehold.
Kurt_Steiner: Well, June was a quiet month in the game so I needed something to keep the action going.
Zhuge Liang: Getting his men into order will be Brooke’s main challenge.
El Pip: You never know, my dear Pip, this might be the turning point!
Trekaddict:
El Pip: Thank you, Sir.
Nathan Madien: A challenge Barnes Wallis would be proud of!
Enewald:
Trekaddict: Well, Monty was short...
Nathan Madien: Or the very suave Alex...
El Pip:
DonnieBaseball: Spot on, Sir.
Nathan Madien:
Trekaddict: ‘twas ever thus, and would be with Monty too.
Nathan Madien/El Pip:
Sir Humphrey: A truism, as ever.
EDIT: Corrected error to show Lord Halifax as PM
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First off - Lord Hankey as PM? While it would be a spectacular improvement and one that I would immensely enjoy seeing I suspect you meant "Lord Halifax". Shame as PM Hankey would doubtless ensure the RN was properly resourced!
Butler as chancellor! Hasn't he done enough damage in the Foreign Office? Dear lord for that alone this is a terrible reshuffle, I dread to think what will happen to the finances, let alone the country's war footing, with Butler as Chancellor. He was bad enough in OTL but I have no doubts the man can find new depths to plumb.
That aside a fairly handy reshuffle, though I wonder about Stanley at the FO, it will take him a while to get up to speed so I hope he keeps Cadogan close to give him some cover. Macmillan at Air, does run the risk of Dowding dominating him and he might struggle at cabinet. Mind you that could mean the other service bully him into sending more RAF strength East so not necessarily a bad thing. Duff-Cooper at Domions is a cunning move though, once he turns on the charm relations have to get better, though in truth the only way is up on that front.
Butler as chancellor!
Hasn't he done enough damage in the Foreign Office? Dear lord for that alone this is a terrible reshuffle, I dread to think what will happen to the finances, let alone the country's war footing, with Butler as Chancellor. He was bad enough in OTL but I have no doubts the man can find new depths to plumb.That aside a fairly handy reshuffle, though I wonder about Stanley at the FO, it will take him a while to get up to speed so I hope he keeps Cadogan close to give him some cover. Macmillan at Air, does run the risk of Dowding dominating him and he might struggle at cabinet. Mind you that could mean the other service bully him into sending more RAF strength East so not necessarily a bad thing. Duff-Cooper at Domions is a cunning move though, once he turns on the charm relations have to get better, though in truth the only way is up on that front.