Funny you should ask that, VJ.
CHAPTER SEVEN – Part C
The upheavals and tragic events of the beginning of the summer of 1936 proved to only be the beginning of events of far reaching consequences.
On the tenth day of July, a conference was held in London’s Buckingham Palace. In what
The Daily Telegraph called
“The Council of Northern Kings” , Norway’s King Haakon VII, his Prime Minister Johan Nygaardsvold and his Foreign Minister Halvdan Koht; Sweden’s Gustav V, his Prime Minister Axel Pehrsson and His Foreign Minister Rickard Sandler; Denmark’s Christian X, his Prime Minister Thorvald Stauning and his Foreign Minister Vilhelm Buhl; and Finland’s President Pehr Evind Svinhufvud, Foreign Minister Rudolf Holsti and Commander-in-Chief of Armed Forces Carl Gustaf E. Mannerhiem, meet with Edward VIII and the Privy Council, and for the first time in memory the Anglo-Scandinavian monarchs and their Finnish brethren sat down to discuss matters of mutual concern.
After several days of around the clock meetings, in which lower and mid-level career diplomats from the five nations worked out the details of the conclusion already reached by their heads of state, Foreign Secretary Eden surrounded by Foreign Ministers Sandler, Buhl, Koht, and Holsti, announced from the steps of St. James Palace the signing of an alliance between the British Empire and the Scandinavian nations. This alliance, which
The Times called
“The Anglo-Viking Alliance” , called for full cooperation between the military high commands of all five nations with twice a year staff conferences, annual field exercises and the exchange of material technologies as well as full cooperation in times of war and peace. And while those provisions of the diplomatic deal were ground breaking in themselves, what came as a shock to the world was the announcement that this alliance was exclusive of the Anglo-French alliance and that the Scandinavian countries were under no obligation by the provisions of the new alliance to come to the aid of France in the event of war.
Experts from academia and former diplomats of the Foreign Office were quick to point out that the provisions of the new alliance were an unmistakable and clearly thought out message to the French government that the British Empire, after the Leftist election of June and the resulting cooling in Anglo-French relations, was actively seeking out replacements for the French. One commentator, citing an unknown source from within the Foreign Office, stated that the attitude within His Majesty’s Government was that the French were rapidly becoming a liability rather than an asset to the British Empire.
The night after the announcement a ball was held at Buckingham Palace to celebrate the alliance, a gala the size of which had not been seen in London in quite some time. In the main courtyard of the palace, standing at perfect attention in full dress uniform and situated with all the pomp and splendor that only the British Empire could display, were detachments of the Household Guard and Life Guard Regiments while the regimental band playing the various national anthems of the visiting heads of state. The Guardsmen’s brilliant grandeur and impressive martial appearance was a clear reminder to the King’s guests of the history and power of the British Empire.
At the doorway leading into the main ball room, prior to be announced by the Palace’s major domo, even the most jaded visitor could not help but be at least slightly awed by the splendor of not only the room but the room’s occupants. In the corner closest to the arched doorway a group of musicians played softly, providing soothing background noise. On the opposite wall from the musicians tables heavily laden with delicacies from around the Empire as well as those of the guest nations offered refreshment while liveried servants roamed the room offering champagne or stronger drink to the guests of the King. Ambassadors, diplomats, bureaucrats and career civil servants from the Empire and Dominions, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Finland and the majority of the major players in the world’s diplomatic scene floated about the room in the latest fashionable formal attire, making idle chit-chat and conducting business best suited to discussions away from formal meetings. Officer’s from the army, navy and air forces of the new allies stood resplendent in the ornate formal dress uniforms of their respective services, mingling with the military attaché’s of the nations invited to the ball, eyeing the passing diplomats with the military man’s usual distaste for such functionaries. The ladies that were in attendance were the bridge between the two groups, uniting the bachelors in the common goal of seeking out the eligible ladies, and uniting all the men in admiration for the fairer sex’s powers of presentation. These three groups, while naturally drawing the eye of the newly arriving guests, all paled in comparison to Royals in attendance. The British Royals, King Edward VII, his brothers Prince Albert, Duke of York, Prince George, Duke of Kent, and Prince Henry, Duke of Gloucester, and his sister, Princess Mary, as well as their spouses of the royal siblings, Elizabeth, Duchess of York, Marina, Duchess of Kent and Princess of Greece and Denmark, Alice, Duchess of Gloucester, and George, Count of Harewood, were gathered against the back wall of the room on a slightly raised dais. Clothed in the full formal regalia of the British Monarchy, the Royal Family stood like a beacon of all that was the British Empire. King Haakon VII and Queen Maud of Norway, King Gustav V of Sweden and his Queen, Victoria of Baden, each outfitted in their own royal regalia, were chatting with the Duke and Duchess of York about the joys of parenthood. On the other side of the dais, the Duke and Duchess of Kent and the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester were gathered about Denmark’s King Christian X and his Queen-Consort, Alexandrine of Mecklenburg-Schwerin, the men debating the possibility of bringing back the Schneider Trophy competition while the ladies discussed the latest developments in the fashion world. In the middle of the dais stood King Edward, his sister Princess Mary and her husband Count Harewood, speaking with the Finish President, Pehr Evind Svinhufvud, the princes, with her expertise as a registered and working nurse, dominating the conversation about new medical advances. While not mentioned aloud by any of the guests, but certainly noted mentally for private discussion later, was the pronounced absence of the ambassador and military attaché from France. To the experienced career diplomats such an absence was either an intentional slight on the part of the British Royals or a monumental oversight that would cost some mid-level bureaucrat his job. To those of the attendees who thought they were “in-the-know”, it was proof of His Majesty’s Government’s, not to mention the King’s personal, displeasure at the recent actions of the new government of France’s Third Republic, while to those who were really “in-the-know”, it was the first step of His Majesty’s Government plan to distance itself from the French in the hope of reminding the Third Republic just how precarious one could become when one was facing threats alone.
The ball had not reached beginning of the opening dance when a clearly agitated young officer of the British Army strode through the doorway. While his walk appeared to be purposeful yet sedate to the civilians in the room who quickly lost interest as he passed them by, the military men in the room recognized his walk as that of a messenger delivering news of great importance and grew quiet and watched intently as he made his way toward the gathering of Royals at the end of the room. Sketching a quick bow as he reached the gathered Royals and Finnish President, the young officer delivered a quick report, one that caused his listeners to slightly recoil in shock. While the leaders quickly conferred with each other, the officers began to slowly gravitate toward the dais, alerting the senior civilians in the room that something was afoot. Completing their brief conference, King Edward motioned to the young officer, who then turned on his heel and called out in a voice normally heard on a parade ground rather than within the halls of the Palace and caused the civilians who had not yet sensed the change in the room’s atmosphere to become of the quickly and rudely aware of that change.
“My lords, ladies, and distinguished guests, your attention please! His Majesty the King has an announcement to make. Draw near and hear his words!”
Sending a quick look of wry amusement to his brother Prince Albert and hiding a small grin, King Edward stepped forward and placing a familiar hand on the officer’s shoulder spoke to the crowd slipping into the royal plural.
“Captain Drake as just delivered news to us from our ambassador in Spain. As of four o’clock local time today, units of the Spanish Army have taken arms against the elected government and that there has been wide spread fighting throughout the country, including in the streets of Madrid. As of this moment, Spain is in a state of civil war.”