Almost sounds like it crashed through the wall and disturbed his tea!
I think Eden would be privately spewing, though maybe is wife is emerging as a Lady MacBeth-esque character?
Good to see Oliver Stanley!
-
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I think Eden would be privately spewing, though maybe is wife is emerging as a Lady MacBeth-esque character?
Good to see Oliver Stanley!
Chapter 89, Downing Street, 20 September 1940
Halifax wrestled with his collar stud for the fortieth time as he dressed in a lighter lounge suit than the formal, stiff, suit worn for his meetings during the day. He was in an irritable mood as a financial briefing by Stanley had massively overrun, leaving him with precious little time to relax before his dinner party. It had been Dorothy’s idea to hold a ‘friends of the Prime Minister’ celebratory dinner a week after the election, giving the husband she doted upon a chance to relax amongst his good friends. And so the invitations had gone out, for nothing too grand but an informal, relaxed supper. As Halifax finished dressing, with Cole’s assistance, he frowned as there was a knock at the door.
“My darling, our guests are starting to arrive.”
Halifax sighed. “Vewy well, my dear, I am ready.”
Together the Halifaxes received their guests, and took their seats in the Dining Room. After the trials of the election the Prime Minister could finally relax. There was Butler, of course, the ever loyal protégé, and the only other member of the Cabinet to be present, as Dunlgass, a polite young man who had served as Halifax’s Private Secretary, was of ministerial rank. Lascelles, glad to have been assistance in smoothing ruffled feathers when King and First Minister disagreed, arrived from Balmoral where he had been enjoying the gorgeous summer weather. Halifax had also invited Walter Monckton, a personal friend whose closeness to Halifax had weathered many storms from their contrasting positions in the abdication crisis (Monckton had been the legal advisor to Edward VIII) to the ongoing saga of the Japanese threat in the Pacific. Halifax found him excellent company and had a request to ask of him.
“We have warned Walter, have we not?” Halfiax looked sharply at Butler.
“Yes, My Lord, he knows what to expect.”
The group sat down to an excellent dinner. Grouse, sent by the King with his (handwritten) letter of congratulation from Balmoral was served with an excellent wine in a relaxed atmosphere. Though it was a balmy summer’s evening the guests seemed comfortable enough. Conversation soon turned to Winston Churchill, who, following his massively reduced majority and continued opposition to Halifax, was proudly ‘in the wilderness’, attacking Halifax for neglecting Bomber Command.
“He’s always tried to cause trouble,” Butler opined to Lady Halifax. “A half-breed American, with no loyalty to the Prime Minister.”
Lady Halifax bit back a retort that Butler’s own loyalty was a matter of debate between her and her husband. “But, surely, Mr Butler, he was an effective First Lord?”
“Pah! The biggest Navy in the world to follow his every word and he comes a cropper invading Norway. Only Winston could have failed so spectacularly. Gallipoli, Norway, thank God he won’t be causing any further great British disasters! Now all he can do is make speeches in the House about us not building a heavy bomber force!”
The mild blasphemy offended Lady Halifax, who deduced that Butler was rapidly becoming drunk. Her husband, sensing his wife’s distress, went to her aid. “His patwiotism was never in question,” he muttered softly, regretting that he and Churchill would seemingly never find a common understanding. “He was the wogue elephant out of the three senior members of the Government. The two other elephants had to keep him marching with us.”
Butler moved to say something but caught the disapproval in Halifax’s expression. It was later, when the ladies had retired and the gentlemen lingered over the table with port (Halifax preferred this to Brandy) and cigars that Halifax, in the spirit of Edwardian patronage, turned to his friend.
“Walter, I have been wemiss. You know that you and I are good fwiends.”
“Of course, Prime Minister, the very best of friends!”
“I am sure that Wab,” Halifax gestured to Butler, who had fallen asleep in the chair opposite, “has bwiefed you. Will you accept the charge of your countwy?”
“I am delighted of course, but why on Earth have you picked me?”
“Because, you know me, and you know that when you arrive over there they will expect you to be able to interpwet our actions and intentions. I need a man that knows these things with natuwal instinct.”
“Has His Majesty” Monckton, full of diligent concern, looked thoughtful, “been consulted on the appointment?” Lascelles, already prepared, smiled.
“His Majesty is delighted for you, Walter,” he confirmed.
Butler had been pre-prepared to chime in with a comment but as he continued snoring Dunglass took up his role. “And we’ve had discussions over there, Sir.” The ‘Sir’ was technically not necessary, but Monckton was a friend of Lord Halifax and Dunglass was careful to show respect. “They are delighted with the selection and look forward to your arrival.”
“Am I qualified? Surely a diplomat…”
“Would function cowwectly, in the pwoper channels. No, I need a man as a diwect link between our two nations and their leaders.”
Monckton looked down as he thought about this difficult appointment. He was still reasonably young, not yet fifty, and knew that he had ambitions still to fulfil. A talented lawyer, he had hoped of serving in a Government legal appointment before another challenging ministry. This position would prepare him well, and confirm his suitability for high office. He also saw the desperation in his friend’s eyes, the pleading looks for him to accept. Dunglass, sensing his acceptance, pressed him gently on behalf of Halifax.
“Sir, do you accept?”
“Yes, yes I will of course be delighted to go.” Dunglass and Lascelles smiled, whilst Halifax raised his glass.
“Gentlemen, may I pwopose a toast. To His Britannic Majesty’s Ambassador to Germany.” They repeated the toast. “May he succeed in maintaining the peace between our two nations.”
“Are the Germans sending an ambassador over here?” That was Lascelles, terrified of another Ribbentrop.
Halifax nodded. “They have confirmed to Rab that a new ambassador will be joining us as their man in London.” Halifax then turned to Monckton.
“Walter, I must pwess upon you one thing. Wibbentwop is coming over here soon, and I intend to voice our concerns over this Womania business.”
Monckton closed his eyes. The sudden abdication of King Carol had come of something of a surprise and had drawn only muted comment from a Britain in the grip of an election. Cadogan and the Foreign Office had noted the territorial concessions forced upon the Romanians; losses in Bessarabia and Transylvania had been brutally pushed on them, and Halifax’s stomach tightened at the British misreading of the situation. Far from pulling Romania away from the German orbit, it seemed that Antonescu was growing closer to Germany with each new day.
“What is my official opinion My Lord?”
“That the tewwitowial integrity be pweserved. I accept that Trianon was a measure perhaps too harsh, but the dictatorial demands of Womania’s neighbours is too much.”
“But, with the provisions of the Milan Treaty...”
“I may offer little more than muted dissapwoval, yes Walter I am ever weminded of the pwice of our agweement with Germany. But I will voice our dismay. It has been suggested that we hold a confewence to decide the borders of Europe once and for all.”
Monckton thought he could detect the work of Butler (technically about to become his immediate superior as Foreign Secretary) and feared for Halifax if another humiliating conference saw Britain acquiesce to a ‘scramble for Europe’. He put an a hand gently on Halifax’s arm.
“What is it?”
“My Lord, Edward,” he said softly. “I cannot see you contemplate this. Think of what Munich did for Neville. It is too soon.”
Halifax pursed his lips. “Perhaps you are right.”
[Game Effect] – And so, months after Milan, full diplomatic relations are restored. Of course the embassies would have reopened as soon as the war ended, but I think that the exchange of ambassadors would have waited until after the election. For Halifax I think this would have been an agonising choice; given his ‘back-door’ approach to ending the war I think that this would have continued, avoiding a career diplomat in favour of a personal appointment. Enter Monckton, throughout Halifax’s time as Foreign Secretary a source of friendship and advice and just the kind of calm head that Halifax would want in that most difficult of diplomatic missions. Butler’s slumber is highly symbolic – Halifax has again acted independent of his Foreign Minister.
I’ve made a gossipy reference to Winston – Butler’s views on him are well-known and are recorded elsewhere in the AAR. Lady Halifax was always wary of him and gave him the bollocking of his life in 1940 when she became aware of her husband’s imminent ‘banishment’ to Washington. Churchill is still clearly active, down but not out and embarrassing Halifax by denouncing his defence plans.
Of course Romania’s carving-up by her neighbours go largely unnoticed until is far too late. Now with a militarist government in place Romania will become increasingly under German influence.
Enewald: There will be diplomatic action – as you can see from this post. But Halifax is also exceptionally wary of ‘another Munich’. As he is fully aware of his shortcomings in the charisma stakes this is probably a wise move.
Sir Humphrey: Eden was of course married twice. His first wife, from everything I read of her, makes Lady Macbeth seem like an expenses-paid five star holiday in the Maldives. A lot of their estrangement was undeniably caused by the war and the strains of losing a son, but I think that the cracks were already there and the difficulties experienced by Eden during the election would have strained the marriage.
Halifax wrestled with his collar stud for the fortieth time as he dressed in a lighter lounge suit than the formal, stiff, suit worn for his meetings during the day. He was in an irritable mood as a financial briefing by Stanley had massively overrun, leaving him with precious little time to relax before his dinner party. It had been Dorothy’s idea to hold a ‘friends of the Prime Minister’ celebratory dinner a week after the election, giving the husband she doted upon a chance to relax amongst his good friends. And so the invitations had gone out, for nothing too grand but an informal, relaxed supper. As Halifax finished dressing, with Cole’s assistance, he frowned as there was a knock at the door.
“My darling, our guests are starting to arrive.”
Halifax sighed. “Vewy well, my dear, I am ready.”
Together the Halifaxes received their guests, and took their seats in the Dining Room. After the trials of the election the Prime Minister could finally relax. There was Butler, of course, the ever loyal protégé, and the only other member of the Cabinet to be present, as Dunlgass, a polite young man who had served as Halifax’s Private Secretary, was of ministerial rank. Lascelles, glad to have been assistance in smoothing ruffled feathers when King and First Minister disagreed, arrived from Balmoral where he had been enjoying the gorgeous summer weather. Halifax had also invited Walter Monckton, a personal friend whose closeness to Halifax had weathered many storms from their contrasting positions in the abdication crisis (Monckton had been the legal advisor to Edward VIII) to the ongoing saga of the Japanese threat in the Pacific. Halifax found him excellent company and had a request to ask of him.
“We have warned Walter, have we not?” Halfiax looked sharply at Butler.
“Yes, My Lord, he knows what to expect.”
The group sat down to an excellent dinner. Grouse, sent by the King with his (handwritten) letter of congratulation from Balmoral was served with an excellent wine in a relaxed atmosphere. Though it was a balmy summer’s evening the guests seemed comfortable enough. Conversation soon turned to Winston Churchill, who, following his massively reduced majority and continued opposition to Halifax, was proudly ‘in the wilderness’, attacking Halifax for neglecting Bomber Command.
“He’s always tried to cause trouble,” Butler opined to Lady Halifax. “A half-breed American, with no loyalty to the Prime Minister.”
Lady Halifax bit back a retort that Butler’s own loyalty was a matter of debate between her and her husband. “But, surely, Mr Butler, he was an effective First Lord?”
“Pah! The biggest Navy in the world to follow his every word and he comes a cropper invading Norway. Only Winston could have failed so spectacularly. Gallipoli, Norway, thank God he won’t be causing any further great British disasters! Now all he can do is make speeches in the House about us not building a heavy bomber force!”
The mild blasphemy offended Lady Halifax, who deduced that Butler was rapidly becoming drunk. Her husband, sensing his wife’s distress, went to her aid. “His patwiotism was never in question,” he muttered softly, regretting that he and Churchill would seemingly never find a common understanding. “He was the wogue elephant out of the three senior members of the Government. The two other elephants had to keep him marching with us.”
Butler moved to say something but caught the disapproval in Halifax’s expression. It was later, when the ladies had retired and the gentlemen lingered over the table with port (Halifax preferred this to Brandy) and cigars that Halifax, in the spirit of Edwardian patronage, turned to his friend.
“Walter, I have been wemiss. You know that you and I are good fwiends.”
“Of course, Prime Minister, the very best of friends!”
“I am sure that Wab,” Halifax gestured to Butler, who had fallen asleep in the chair opposite, “has bwiefed you. Will you accept the charge of your countwy?”
“I am delighted of course, but why on Earth have you picked me?”
“Because, you know me, and you know that when you arrive over there they will expect you to be able to interpwet our actions and intentions. I need a man that knows these things with natuwal instinct.”
“Has His Majesty” Monckton, full of diligent concern, looked thoughtful, “been consulted on the appointment?” Lascelles, already prepared, smiled.
“His Majesty is delighted for you, Walter,” he confirmed.
Butler had been pre-prepared to chime in with a comment but as he continued snoring Dunglass took up his role. “And we’ve had discussions over there, Sir.” The ‘Sir’ was technically not necessary, but Monckton was a friend of Lord Halifax and Dunglass was careful to show respect. “They are delighted with the selection and look forward to your arrival.”
“Am I qualified? Surely a diplomat…”
“Would function cowwectly, in the pwoper channels. No, I need a man as a diwect link between our two nations and their leaders.”
Monckton looked down as he thought about this difficult appointment. He was still reasonably young, not yet fifty, and knew that he had ambitions still to fulfil. A talented lawyer, he had hoped of serving in a Government legal appointment before another challenging ministry. This position would prepare him well, and confirm his suitability for high office. He also saw the desperation in his friend’s eyes, the pleading looks for him to accept. Dunglass, sensing his acceptance, pressed him gently on behalf of Halifax.
“Sir, do you accept?”
“Yes, yes I will of course be delighted to go.” Dunglass and Lascelles smiled, whilst Halifax raised his glass.
“Gentlemen, may I pwopose a toast. To His Britannic Majesty’s Ambassador to Germany.” They repeated the toast. “May he succeed in maintaining the peace between our two nations.”
“Are the Germans sending an ambassador over here?” That was Lascelles, terrified of another Ribbentrop.
Halifax nodded. “They have confirmed to Rab that a new ambassador will be joining us as their man in London.” Halifax then turned to Monckton.
“Walter, I must pwess upon you one thing. Wibbentwop is coming over here soon, and I intend to voice our concerns over this Womania business.”
Monckton closed his eyes. The sudden abdication of King Carol had come of something of a surprise and had drawn only muted comment from a Britain in the grip of an election. Cadogan and the Foreign Office had noted the territorial concessions forced upon the Romanians; losses in Bessarabia and Transylvania had been brutally pushed on them, and Halifax’s stomach tightened at the British misreading of the situation. Far from pulling Romania away from the German orbit, it seemed that Antonescu was growing closer to Germany with each new day.
“What is my official opinion My Lord?”
“That the tewwitowial integrity be pweserved. I accept that Trianon was a measure perhaps too harsh, but the dictatorial demands of Womania’s neighbours is too much.”
“But, with the provisions of the Milan Treaty...”
“I may offer little more than muted dissapwoval, yes Walter I am ever weminded of the pwice of our agweement with Germany. But I will voice our dismay. It has been suggested that we hold a confewence to decide the borders of Europe once and for all.”
Monckton thought he could detect the work of Butler (technically about to become his immediate superior as Foreign Secretary) and feared for Halifax if another humiliating conference saw Britain acquiesce to a ‘scramble for Europe’. He put an a hand gently on Halifax’s arm.
“What is it?”
“My Lord, Edward,” he said softly. “I cannot see you contemplate this. Think of what Munich did for Neville. It is too soon.”
Halifax pursed his lips. “Perhaps you are right.”
[Game Effect] – And so, months after Milan, full diplomatic relations are restored. Of course the embassies would have reopened as soon as the war ended, but I think that the exchange of ambassadors would have waited until after the election. For Halifax I think this would have been an agonising choice; given his ‘back-door’ approach to ending the war I think that this would have continued, avoiding a career diplomat in favour of a personal appointment. Enter Monckton, throughout Halifax’s time as Foreign Secretary a source of friendship and advice and just the kind of calm head that Halifax would want in that most difficult of diplomatic missions. Butler’s slumber is highly symbolic – Halifax has again acted independent of his Foreign Minister.
I’ve made a gossipy reference to Winston – Butler’s views on him are well-known and are recorded elsewhere in the AAR. Lady Halifax was always wary of him and gave him the bollocking of his life in 1940 when she became aware of her husband’s imminent ‘banishment’ to Washington. Churchill is still clearly active, down but not out and embarrassing Halifax by denouncing his defence plans.
Of course Romania’s carving-up by her neighbours go largely unnoticed until is far too late. Now with a militarist government in place Romania will become increasingly under German influence.
Enewald: There will be diplomatic action – as you can see from this post. But Halifax is also exceptionally wary of ‘another Munich’. As he is fully aware of his shortcomings in the charisma stakes this is probably a wise move.
Sir Humphrey: Eden was of course married twice. His first wife, from everything I read of her, makes Lady Macbeth seem like an expenses-paid five star holiday in the Maldives. A lot of their estrangement was undeniably caused by the war and the strains of losing a son, but I think that the cracks were already there and the difficulties experienced by Eden during the election would have strained the marriage.
Hmm.. It seems as if ze Führer follows the same path as in OTL, only with more resources. If the UK and Germany ever come to blows again, the fight is going to be much harder than historically.
I can hardly wait for June 22, 1941.
Or December 7th, 1941.
Er... 20 September 1940?!?!
Oh Gosh. It's going to take a while, methinks...
Well, let's be patient and see what comes... erm... Greece...
Or December 7th, 1941.
Er... 20 September 1940?!?!
Oh Gosh. It's going to take a while, methinks...
Well, let's be patient and see what comes... erm... Greece...
I can hardly wait for June 22, 1941.
Or December 7th, 1941.
Er... 20 September 1940?!?!
Oh Gosh. It's going to take a while, methinks...
Well, let's be patient and see what comes... erm... Greece...
I could see the Italians doing something stupid...
Hmm... Romanian surely wouldn't turn to the UK for help, seeing how that worked out for the Poles, French, Norwegians, Dutch, Belgians and French. It looks like, regrettably, Britain will have no allies on the continent (except for maybe Greece). Serves Halifax right for bailing out.
A coup in Romania, how come?
And it is only just fair for Hungary to receive the Hungarian speaking parts that have been Hungarian for a millennia.
Hungary should have demanded more.o
And it is only just fair for Hungary to receive the Hungarian speaking parts that have been Hungarian for a millennia.
Hungary should have demanded more.
o
Chapter 90, Vulcan Foundry, Lancashire, 24 September 1940
Lord Templewood escorted the King and Prime Minister, with a weary Anthony Eden in tow. With the Royal Commission spewing forth new designs and requirements, the task of supplying this new BEF had fallen upon Templewood’s shoulders. Oliver Stanley had been marvellous, giving Templewood and Eden approval to spend heavily on re-arming Britain’s shattered forces. It would, he had written “provide a sound and steady stimulus to our industries”. Eden hadn’t been convinced that “Britzkrieg” (the name given to it by a supportive press) was the way ahead for the Army, and had reduced the number of armoured divisions to be formed for the new BEF. There were other problems; Gort remained its GOC, though Montgtomery and Hobart were allied in opposition to his continuing to hold the coveted command. The result was political confusion, industrial disbelief (at the Army’s inability to confirm exactly what it wanted) and a Prime Minister nervously trying to form his own opinion.
“Forgive me, Lord Templeman, but what exactly is this f-factory?”
“Your Majesty, I am remiss. This is the Vulcan Foundry. She normally makes locomotives, but during the war was converted into a tank manufactory.”
“Ah! Doing sterling work rebuilding our Army, eh, Edward!” Halifax, unhappy to be recognised, inclined his domed head. “Are we k-keeping her for the t-tanks?” Halifax looked momentarily surprised; the details of industry were not known to him. Fortunately, Templeman spotted his chance and jumped in.
“Indeed we are, Your Majesty. The factory owners have been persuaded to focus on continuing to make items for the Army. They plan to increase their workforce.” Halifax nodded, whilst Eden prepared to offer more information. But they had arrived at the entrance and were met by the owners and managers. Without the Queen to support him, the King initially struggled to reply to the messages of welcome. Halifax, seeing his friend wilting under the sympathetic gazes of the workers, willed him on to survive this ordeal. One of the younger typists, a cheery faced red-haired girl, called out an encouraging “God bless Your Majesty” which seemed to put him at ease.
“Thank God for a great King!” Another one called out as the King, without the guidance of his wife, wandered aimlessly around the crowd.
“T-thank G-god for a good people!”
The factory was determined to put on a good show for the visitors. Half-built Matilda tanks were ready for inspection as members of the workforce demonstrated their role to the Sovereign. Eden was concerned with the lack of development in the factory. On his visits around the Kingdom he was becoming increasingly aware of just how antiquated British manufacturing was. He made a mental note to talk to Templeman about it, but the King had beaten him to it.
“That looks like back-breaking work for a young lad, eh, Templeman? Where is the automation?”
“Your Majesty is as ever astute,” Templeman said silkily. “I will, with the Chancellor’s assistance, look to modernise our key factories, to make them more competitive.”
“I look to you, E-edward, to make sure we do improve the standards!” The King shot a sharp look at Halifax, who again nodded. “Then this young man here” he gestured to one of the workers, “isn’t risking his life in working for his country.”
They continued to walk along the assembly line, the owner highlighting with pride the finished Matilda tanks. The King nodded with approval at the tanks lined up for inspection. Halifax, who was in truth feeling gloomily neglected as the King, Templewood and Eden strolled along together, turned to Eden.
“I twust, Anthony, that this impwesses you?”
“Not really, My Lord. We’re making these because we haven’t finalised the new designs yet.”
“But, I spoke to Sir John Carden only a few days ago. He assured me that Vickers were ready to start pwoduction on the Valentine vehicles.”
“Hmmn, I know, Prime Minister, that the Valentine will be a useful stopgap to give some capability, but I fear we need to already look to its replacement.”
“But Genewal Ironside has gwave misgiving over many of the designs. The C, er…”
“Crusader, My Lord,” Eden replied, his voice betraying his frustration.
“He thinks we may need to further wefine the design.”
“He is entirely correct. Now that the Royal Commission has set its requirement for a large cruiser force, and an improved infantry support variant, I think we need to go back to the designers.”
Halifax thought about it. At the moment the British factories were pouring out Matildas and Covenanters to fill out the empty ranks of the BEF’s armoured formations. Halifax knew little about tanks but had read Dill’s pronouncement that the Covenanter was a poor design and the older Cruiser tanks were under armoured if fast. Stanley had been right, or so Hankey, his replacement at the Admiralty had pronounced, in halting production of hurriedly designed ships in order to allow British designers and shipbuilders to produce a well-thought out programme. The RAF were now refining their airframe designs. But the Army were muddling through, and Halifax knew that Eden had a point.
“I agwee Anthony. We will continue with all existing orders,” he stared down an Eden interruption, “but will not place any new ones until the Royal Commision’s findings and ideas twanslate themselves into new designs.”
“Sir, there is one more thing, if I may venture an opinion?”
“Pway continue.”
“I fear we have become obsessed with the need for modern vehicles at the expense of other important components of an Army. I fear an armoured army would have the Dickens of a time in the Orient.”
“What do you wish?”
“A reduction in the Royal Commision’s requirements. A smaller BEF with the resources going to our forces in the Middle East and Asia instead.”
Halifax winced as again what he had once glibly termed ‘the threats from afar’ haunted his thoughts. “Are the Navy and Air Force supportive?”
“Entirely, Prime Minister.”
“Vewy well, I’ll write to Ironside. That will suffice?”
Eden nodded, pleased to have Prime Ministerial support for his plans. He risked a question at Halifax, a man he found difficult to engage with. “are the arrangements for Mussolini’s visit satisfactory?”
Halifax grunted. “Wab assures me that it will a demonstwably impwessive display.”
Eden smiled thinly. “We will support it as much as we can.”
Halifax and Eden continued to trail behind the King, who by now was chatting happily with the workers fitting the turrets of the tanks. How does he do it, remaining so sincere, Halifax wondered. Though not, thankfully, as flamboyant as his brother, he is improving in his dealings with the working classes. As the Equerry went ahead to get the cars, the King turned and offered a wide wave. For the King another day of touring the industrial midlands beckoned. Halifax and Eden clambered into their car and prepared to return home. For Mussolini was coming, and whether Halifax liked it or not he was the King’s First Minister and thus the man to meet Il Duce.
[Game Effect] – Sorry, another chatty update. Following our look at the work of the Royal Commission, I wanted to show you how their desire to increase and improve the tank element of the Army will be enacted. The British will thunder ahead with cruiser tanks, in order to furnish the BEF with the highly mobile armoured force advocated by the Royal Commission. Valentines and Matildas will be made until a new medium tank design is finished. Given the constraints of the period it will probably be a Cromwell-esque design, though the lack of an imminent need to have tanks ready means that the British may actually set themselves up with a good design on which to go to war.
When we looked at the work of the Royal Commission there were a number of comments on the complete madness of focussing solely on mobile panzer style armies when the looming threat is from Japan. I think that Eden, much maligned in this AAR, would have sussed this and has thus trimmed down the scale of the mechanisation. I don’t want to be gamey about it as I genuinely think that the personalities in the upper echelons of the Army would be obsessed with what today we would call “high intensity war fighting”, meaning tank on tank with vehicle-based infantry in support, and that political involvement from Eden would be required to balance their views. There is another, more telling reason – British industry, straining to equip the RN and RAF as well as meet consumer demands, just isn’t up to providing a huge armoured force in the numbers advocated by Hobart.
Trekaddict: This is a key (probably the key) ramification; the Germans are not going to be worn down by a dogged Britain. The first test of this will obviously the Balkans (if it happens at all) and then of course Barbarossa. Having stopped the game at the 1945/1946 point for reasons various my conclusion on this point is a surprising one. But you’ll have to endure more of my endless waffle for that…
Kurt_Steiner: Actually, appreciative that this AAR is taking ages, I do intend to speed things up. 1940 is pretty much dealt with, whilst 1941 will be a ripping yarn I promise.
Trekaddict: Be careful what you wish for…
GeneralHannibal: A very valid point, borne out by the fact that the Romanians didn’t even bother to ask for help. Now that Halifax has made non-involvement in Europe (though Greece may provoke a pursing of the lips) official policy, we have already seen Spain, France and other governments lean to the German bloc; what alternative is there? Italy, treated poorly so far by Germany, remains a wild card.
Enewald: Without provoking a comment war, Romania has been fairly brutally treated by her neighbours.
Lord Templewood escorted the King and Prime Minister, with a weary Anthony Eden in tow. With the Royal Commission spewing forth new designs and requirements, the task of supplying this new BEF had fallen upon Templewood’s shoulders. Oliver Stanley had been marvellous, giving Templewood and Eden approval to spend heavily on re-arming Britain’s shattered forces. It would, he had written “provide a sound and steady stimulus to our industries”. Eden hadn’t been convinced that “Britzkrieg” (the name given to it by a supportive press) was the way ahead for the Army, and had reduced the number of armoured divisions to be formed for the new BEF. There were other problems; Gort remained its GOC, though Montgtomery and Hobart were allied in opposition to his continuing to hold the coveted command. The result was political confusion, industrial disbelief (at the Army’s inability to confirm exactly what it wanted) and a Prime Minister nervously trying to form his own opinion.
“Forgive me, Lord Templeman, but what exactly is this f-factory?”
“Your Majesty, I am remiss. This is the Vulcan Foundry. She normally makes locomotives, but during the war was converted into a tank manufactory.”
“Ah! Doing sterling work rebuilding our Army, eh, Edward!” Halifax, unhappy to be recognised, inclined his domed head. “Are we k-keeping her for the t-tanks?” Halifax looked momentarily surprised; the details of industry were not known to him. Fortunately, Templeman spotted his chance and jumped in.
“Indeed we are, Your Majesty. The factory owners have been persuaded to focus on continuing to make items for the Army. They plan to increase their workforce.” Halifax nodded, whilst Eden prepared to offer more information. But they had arrived at the entrance and were met by the owners and managers. Without the Queen to support him, the King initially struggled to reply to the messages of welcome. Halifax, seeing his friend wilting under the sympathetic gazes of the workers, willed him on to survive this ordeal. One of the younger typists, a cheery faced red-haired girl, called out an encouraging “God bless Your Majesty” which seemed to put him at ease.
“Thank God for a great King!” Another one called out as the King, without the guidance of his wife, wandered aimlessly around the crowd.
“T-thank G-god for a good people!”
The factory was determined to put on a good show for the visitors. Half-built Matilda tanks were ready for inspection as members of the workforce demonstrated their role to the Sovereign. Eden was concerned with the lack of development in the factory. On his visits around the Kingdom he was becoming increasingly aware of just how antiquated British manufacturing was. He made a mental note to talk to Templeman about it, but the King had beaten him to it.
“That looks like back-breaking work for a young lad, eh, Templeman? Where is the automation?”
“Your Majesty is as ever astute,” Templeman said silkily. “I will, with the Chancellor’s assistance, look to modernise our key factories, to make them more competitive.”
“I look to you, E-edward, to make sure we do improve the standards!” The King shot a sharp look at Halifax, who again nodded. “Then this young man here” he gestured to one of the workers, “isn’t risking his life in working for his country.”
They continued to walk along the assembly line, the owner highlighting with pride the finished Matilda tanks. The King nodded with approval at the tanks lined up for inspection. Halifax, who was in truth feeling gloomily neglected as the King, Templewood and Eden strolled along together, turned to Eden.
“I twust, Anthony, that this impwesses you?”
“Not really, My Lord. We’re making these because we haven’t finalised the new designs yet.”
“But, I spoke to Sir John Carden only a few days ago. He assured me that Vickers were ready to start pwoduction on the Valentine vehicles.”
“Hmmn, I know, Prime Minister, that the Valentine will be a useful stopgap to give some capability, but I fear we need to already look to its replacement.”
“But Genewal Ironside has gwave misgiving over many of the designs. The C, er…”
“Crusader, My Lord,” Eden replied, his voice betraying his frustration.
“He thinks we may need to further wefine the design.”
“He is entirely correct. Now that the Royal Commission has set its requirement for a large cruiser force, and an improved infantry support variant, I think we need to go back to the designers.”
Halifax thought about it. At the moment the British factories were pouring out Matildas and Covenanters to fill out the empty ranks of the BEF’s armoured formations. Halifax knew little about tanks but had read Dill’s pronouncement that the Covenanter was a poor design and the older Cruiser tanks were under armoured if fast. Stanley had been right, or so Hankey, his replacement at the Admiralty had pronounced, in halting production of hurriedly designed ships in order to allow British designers and shipbuilders to produce a well-thought out programme. The RAF were now refining their airframe designs. But the Army were muddling through, and Halifax knew that Eden had a point.
“I agwee Anthony. We will continue with all existing orders,” he stared down an Eden interruption, “but will not place any new ones until the Royal Commision’s findings and ideas twanslate themselves into new designs.”
“Sir, there is one more thing, if I may venture an opinion?”
“Pway continue.”
“I fear we have become obsessed with the need for modern vehicles at the expense of other important components of an Army. I fear an armoured army would have the Dickens of a time in the Orient.”
“What do you wish?”
“A reduction in the Royal Commision’s requirements. A smaller BEF with the resources going to our forces in the Middle East and Asia instead.”
Halifax winced as again what he had once glibly termed ‘the threats from afar’ haunted his thoughts. “Are the Navy and Air Force supportive?”
“Entirely, Prime Minister.”
“Vewy well, I’ll write to Ironside. That will suffice?”
Eden nodded, pleased to have Prime Ministerial support for his plans. He risked a question at Halifax, a man he found difficult to engage with. “are the arrangements for Mussolini’s visit satisfactory?”
Halifax grunted. “Wab assures me that it will a demonstwably impwessive display.”
Eden smiled thinly. “We will support it as much as we can.”
Halifax and Eden continued to trail behind the King, who by now was chatting happily with the workers fitting the turrets of the tanks. How does he do it, remaining so sincere, Halifax wondered. Though not, thankfully, as flamboyant as his brother, he is improving in his dealings with the working classes. As the Equerry went ahead to get the cars, the King turned and offered a wide wave. For the King another day of touring the industrial midlands beckoned. Halifax and Eden clambered into their car and prepared to return home. For Mussolini was coming, and whether Halifax liked it or not he was the King’s First Minister and thus the man to meet Il Duce.
[Game Effect] – Sorry, another chatty update. Following our look at the work of the Royal Commission, I wanted to show you how their desire to increase and improve the tank element of the Army will be enacted. The British will thunder ahead with cruiser tanks, in order to furnish the BEF with the highly mobile armoured force advocated by the Royal Commission. Valentines and Matildas will be made until a new medium tank design is finished. Given the constraints of the period it will probably be a Cromwell-esque design, though the lack of an imminent need to have tanks ready means that the British may actually set themselves up with a good design on which to go to war.
When we looked at the work of the Royal Commission there were a number of comments on the complete madness of focussing solely on mobile panzer style armies when the looming threat is from Japan. I think that Eden, much maligned in this AAR, would have sussed this and has thus trimmed down the scale of the mechanisation. I don’t want to be gamey about it as I genuinely think that the personalities in the upper echelons of the Army would be obsessed with what today we would call “high intensity war fighting”, meaning tank on tank with vehicle-based infantry in support, and that political involvement from Eden would be required to balance their views. There is another, more telling reason – British industry, straining to equip the RN and RAF as well as meet consumer demands, just isn’t up to providing a huge armoured force in the numbers advocated by Hobart.
Trekaddict: This is a key (probably the key) ramification; the Germans are not going to be worn down by a dogged Britain. The first test of this will obviously the Balkans (if it happens at all) and then of course Barbarossa. Having stopped the game at the 1945/1946 point for reasons various my conclusion on this point is a surprising one. But you’ll have to endure more of my endless waffle for that…
Kurt_Steiner: Actually, appreciative that this AAR is taking ages, I do intend to speed things up. 1940 is pretty much dealt with, whilst 1941 will be a ripping yarn I promise.
Trekaddict: Be careful what you wish for…
GeneralHannibal: A very valid point, borne out by the fact that the Romanians didn’t even bother to ask for help. Now that Halifax has made non-involvement in Europe (though Greece may provoke a pursing of the lips) official policy, we have already seen Spain, France and other governments lean to the German bloc; what alternative is there? Italy, treated poorly so far by Germany, remains a wild card.
Enewald: Without provoking a comment war, Romania has been fairly brutally treated by her neighbours.
You are sticking to the tech tree then. Anyway, I think I have to agree that beefing up the other commands is more important. Sealion will never work as long as RAF and RN are up to snuff.
Tanks, hah, no one wins wars with tanks.
Where is the good old cavalry?
And British commandos?
Where is the good old cavalry?
And British commandos?
Is there still a Free French movement struggling in the French colonial Empire, BTW, or has Vichy started to force them underground ?
Next update (probably on Wednesday) I promise. France is about to take priority in the story...
The Balkanic gambit would be clever. It is the most unstable area of the Reich's zone of influence after all, and one of the few places in Europe where independent thoughts and policies can survive (except for the British Isles of course). I wonder how Ireland is swinging these days ? De Valera was forcefully neutralist, but the common irishman probably didn't feel too much connection with the nasty little corporal and his demented dreams...
:rofl:
Sounds like something out of an anime. SUPER HARIFAX BAKA PURAIMU MINISTERU BRITZKRIEG! ^_^ Featuring Halifax in a giant steam-powered Edwardian robot appeasing Hitler and Mussolini, who are in more modern giant diesel-powered robots.
Will Musso work with a translator or will Halifax have to deal with his nigh incomprehensible english?
I like that!
Churchill can even be a magical girl. Yes...I said "magical girl". When you are in the wilderness, you must do whatever it takes to survive.
*imagines Churchill in an Cardcaptor Sakura-esque magical girl costume*
:rofl:
Give the Italians five minutes. They will come up with something.
You do know, that the japanese probably WOULD do something like that, right? After hearing about Strike Witches (featuring loli Chuck Yeager!) I wouldn't put anything past them...
Matilda? Valentine? At this pace Tokio will strike when you're deploying the magnificent A13 Covenanter...
Matilda? Valentine? At this pace Tokio will strike when you're deploying the magnificent A13 Covenanter...
Not necessarily - if they get the engine right from the start it could be Cromwells - which would make mincemeat of the type 95 and 97.
To be honest Matilda's aren't a bad choice to face the Japanese - particularly if they could find a way to upgun it to a 6pdr or even the howitser CS variant. In OTL they survived in service against the Japanese throughout the war
Not to mention the quite good Aussie Sentinel tank! Which was never used in combat though, but a good design.