For All We Have and Are: Britain in the Great War - (1901 Series)

[BigBadBob]

19
Consequence

​

I am not quite yet sure that this is not preferable to Westminster.

Colin Ryan, May 22nd, 1913​

Before the war, the dividing line of British politics was the fledgling Imperial Federation. Whether one believed in it or not had been the question sorting Liberals and Conservatives, with the debate over the status of Ireland in the Federation and United Kingdom restoring the parliamentary power of the Irish Nationalist Party, which had been near-defunct before the General Election of 1905. While the Election of 1910 had decided the matter of its existence, much of the detail had been left for a later date.

The Act of Union 1910, while ostensibly giving Westminster wide-ranging powers to legislate for the whole Federation, had never been tested. While it would perhaps seem that the natural division over this question would mirror that of the division on the Federation’s existence, with Liberals arguing for federal power and Conservatives against it. Instead, the debate over compulsion would tear open rifts within the major parties as it brought into sharp focus the question of what, ultimately, was the end-goal of Federation.

If the question had been raised by another issue, such as one focussed on Ireland alone or perhaps the Colour Bar in South Africa, the parties might have been able to maintain the broad strokes of their coalitions. The former would have kept the Conservatives intact through their desire to bring Ireland back into the fold of the Union Proper. The latter would have offered the Liberals a clear moral case with which to intervene in a Commonwealth, one based on the Suffrage question that had been the party’s most unifying policy goal from its Whig antecedent to the final triumph of Women’s Suffrage in 1892.

Instead, compulsion drove a wedge through the coalition of the most ideologically principled liberals and more utilitarian liberals that had already been tested by Sinclairism, and only barely kept together by the belief of both in Federation. On Federation, it exposed the divide between those who had seen it as a way to manage divergence and those who had seen it as a way to knit the Empire closer together. This was only exacerbated by the fact that the Federation was not only a Liberal achievement, but its prime architect, H. H. Asquith, was still on their backbenches.

For the Conservatives, it exposed similar rifts between the economically liberal faction that had been too opposed to Sinclairism to remain with the Liberals, and the older, more paternalistic strain of Conservative thought. On Federation, the split was almost three ways, between those who had not yet been reconciled to it, those who had come to see it as a way to keep the Empire unified, and those who had become convinced it was better to cut loose the Commonwealths than let the Federation undermine the unitary nature of the United Kingdom further [1].

For the INP, it would prove a death sentence, as the consensus between moderates and hardliners – previously sustained by the need to achieve Commonwealth Status – broke down over economic issues, social issues, and the ultimate purpose of the Quest for Commonwealth. It was something of a miniature version of the wider rifts in British politics. By the end of the war, Irish politics, though it had always had more layers of complexity than that of Great Britain, would be riven with so many criss-crossing fault lines that A. R. Foulkes, one of the great historians of modern British politics once said ‘[he could] understand British politics after the Great War, or Irish politics, but not both’.

The Palace of Westminster, Summer 1912​

As for why compulsion became the word of the day in Westminster in the autumn of 1912, that was the result of the Second Battle of the Salients. The failure of the offensive brought home two inescapable dilemmas. The first was that manpower could not be maintained through volunteers alone if the war was going to exert anything like the butcher’s bill of the Salients on a regular basis. The second was that, after three months of fighting on a small part of it, the entirety of the front was in danger of collapse if there was a general German offensive, and that was because British industry, through regular market forces, could not match the Army’s need for munitions and materiel.

As the scale of the disaster in France became clear, it also became clear that there would have to be consequences beyond a removal of Hamilton from command. As one of the main advocates and the man in command of the attack, he was a scalp that could calm the nerves of the establishment in the case of a regular military mistake. This, however, was something that seemed to demand a review of the entire command in France.

That it would result in such a review is likely why someone leaked information about the munitions crisis to the press. The leak was first published in The Times on 12 October, as demands were mounting for a full-scale reorganisation of the BEF’s General Staff. To this day, it is not entirely clear where the leak came from. Wavell-Pierce has been suggested, and he would certainly have had motive. In his memoirs, he even admitted said motive; as C-in-C, he would have been the logical choice to sack. However, within that same passage, he defends himself against the accusation, pointing out that the calls for his resignation began weeks before the leak, whilst the leak only happened when those calls expanded to the wider command. Whomever it was, their action sparked a full-scale political crisis.

The munitions crisis implicated Whitehall, placing the blame for failure at least partially on the system more widely. The Army had not failed. They had been let down by ministers and civil servants. This, in turn, caused a rift within the government as they tried to remedy the problem. Initially, it was an internal battle for Lloyd-George, whose own opposition to compulsion was now face-to-face with the fact that his time as Prime Minister would likely be at an end if he did not adopt it in, at the least, the industrial sphere. The decision was forced on him by a speech from Alexander Courtenay in the House on 21 October, in which the leader of the Conservatives implied that, should a bill not be brought forth to ensure the sufficient production of war goods, his party would be forced to call for a Vote of No Confidence:

English liberty is indeed sacred, but if this government is willing to risk its existence, willing to risk it be crushed under a German boot forever, over opposition to a temporary curtailment, a curtailment necessary for the long-term security that guards English liberty, then I cannot see how it should enjoy the confidence of this House.​

The Prime Minister therefore called Cabinet on 23 October, and informed them that a Compulsion Bill would have to be drawn up. The exact details would have to be hashed out by the Board of Trade, the Treasury, and the War Departments, but there was no question that the market solution had come to the end of its lifespan. Simon, having killed the War Industry Bill less than nine months earlier, was horrified, along with much of the Cabinet. It was the stuff of Labour’s left wing, not Sinclairism. The other factor that split the Cabinet that day was the scope of the bill; the powers given to the body resulting from it would extend to the Commonwealths.

(L-R) Seely, Churchill, and Attorney General Ebbets on the day the government collapsed​

The next three weeks in Westminster were some of the most dramatic in its entire history. Simon threatened to resign if the Treasury and War Departments sent him so much as a draft of a new War Industry Bill. Knowing that the political situation likely demanded a ritual sacrifice of a Cabinet member, Lloyd George took the opportunity to sack him. With him went many of the lesser members of Cabinet and numerous junior ministers.

On 27 October, Simon stood up in the House of Commons, and delivered a blistering speech in opposition to compulsion, marking himself out as leader of the principled anti-compulsion liberals in the party. Three days later, the new War Industries Bill was published, along with its Commonwealth Clause. Though he had heard rumours of this, the confirmation of its existence brought Asquith out of the semi-retirement he had been enjoying for some two years. For Asquith, the Federation had come out of the tension between the divergence of Canada and the forcibly holding close of Ireland in the 1860s. His vision was very much that of a Federation to manage the differing demands of a far-flung Empire, rather than one to harness its power centrally. Late on Friday, 30 October, he met with Simon to discuss their opposition to the WIB.

If it had been the Liberal Party alone in turmoil over the WIB, then the story of 2 November might have simply been of that party’s internal contradictions letting the Conservatives march into government on a promise to prosecute the war with all the vigour required. However, Courtenay’s own stand had underestimated the extent to which his own party would be divided over the actual substance of the WIB’s compulsion measures and the Commonwealth Clause. The opposition to Courtenay was led by the pair of Frederic Graves (a Canadian who had joined the Conservatives because he disagreed with Canadian Accession, and wished to reverse it) and Sir James Hambro (a member of the Hambro banking family who, for somewhat obvious reasons, despised the idea of industrial compulsion).

On Tuesday, 3 November, the WIB was brought forth for its Second Reading. Though it made it to Committee Stage by a healthy margin of 455-280, the total disintegration of party unity in the vote marked the fall of Lloyd George’s first ministry. Asquith and Simon, and Graves and Hambro, had both managed to take about a third of their parties’ parliamentary representation with them into the No Lobby. Of 330 Liberals, 124 had voted against. Of 328 Conservatives, 109 had done so. Even more spectacular was the INP, where 41 out of 68 MPs had voted against [2]. The last was a particular blow for Colin Ryan, who had tentatively fallen on the side of the Bill as a necessity for the war effort, even if he hoped to kill the Commonwealth Clause in Committee or Report.

The PM, famous for his ability to gauge the political wind, almost certainly knew this was the effect the WIB would have on his own party, even if he did not – apparently – expect the other two to have a similar collapse. The reason he went ahead nonetheless is found in the swiftness of his manoeuvres post-vote. Even as they were passing through the Aye Lobby, Lloyd George had given a tap on Courtenay’s shoulder and indicated that the two should ‘have a talk once [they were] done here’.

(L-R) Austen Chamberlain, Alexander Courtenay, and Winston Churchill, 7 November 1912​

Over the course of the next three days, Courtenay and Lloyd George, together with what was left of their front benches, negotiated a coalition agreement. It would be built on prosecuting the war to the end, by any means necessary. This included a cast-iron commitment to the WIB, and, at the insistence of Churchill and Seely, a secret clause indicating that the principals would accept conscription if the military situation made it necessary [3]. Built on such an agreement on the major issues, and with a majority of 425-310 – even without accounting for the fact that the ostensible opposition included the 27 sympathetic INP members and Labour’s delegation [4] – the second Lloyd George Ministry was on much more secure footing than the legacy government of the 1910 Election he had led up till now.

Though Number 10, the Foreign Office, and the War Departments remained in Liberal hands, the Conservatives got the Treasury and the Home Office in the deal. Most importantly, by staking Number 11 for himself, Courtenay had cemented his position as unofficial Deputy Prime Minister. The Board of Trade itself would be so fundamentally transformed by the WIB’s eventual passage that its ministerial composition was left to a later date. Other posts were filled slowly over the course of the next month, as the business of war began to regain some of its old rhythm.

In the weeks between 23 October and 7 November, the entire world had held its breath. The primary member of the Entente seemed to be on the brink of a total political collapse. In fact, for three days, it had experienced such a collapse. Not only that, but the United States had held its Presidential Election on 5 November. On that date, the only democratic member of the Western Entente with a government was France, part-occupied and in a state of total panic, as the possibility of both its most important allies dropping out due to internal politics reared its head. The depth of that panic was only matched by the temporary, exhilarating sense of hope experienced by Berlin, Rome, and Madrid.

However, on the morning of 6 November, it became clear that Roosevelt had been re-elected in a landslide, a pro-War Congress forming on his coattails. Then Lloyd George and Alexander Courtenay emerged from Number 10 on the morning of 7 November, flanked by the Foreign Secretary and War Ministers. The Entente’s three-day political crisis had thus concluded with the governments of the United States and United Kingdom more determined to, and more politically capable of, fighting the war to the bitter end.


[1] – This last faction even had a split within itself, on whether Ireland should be cut loose too or reintegrated.

[2] – The result is rounded out by the 3 Labour MPs voting for the WIB and all 6 minor regional MPs voting against.

[3] – Courtenay and Lloyd George, who both would end up agonising over the decision when it did come, clearly did not appreciate just how likely it was that conscription would be deemed necessary. On the part of the Prime Minister, this seems to have been a disbelief in what he saw as overly pessimistic Army estimates. Courtenay, at least, had the excuse of not being briefed yet in full by the War Departments when the coalition was being agreed.

[4] – Until 7 November, Colin Ryan had remained as leader of the INP. The combination of the coalition not needing the INP, and his determining that the party itself could no longer abide by him as leader, led to his resignation once the government was in place. Sick of Westminster, and feeling his part there had, at least for now, been played, he joined the Army on 16 November.

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

From a political standpoint, it was simply more tenable for the Germans to sit back in French territory and hope they could win the war elsewhere (or bleed the Allies dry) than it was for the French and British to sit back with Belgium and much of the French industrial heartland under occupation.

Mm. The story of Verdon keeps changing. The people in charge were told repeatedly that the idea was to break through to verdun, take it and from there organise a breakout elsewhere whilst the entente tried to get it back, or even go onto more movement past verdun itself. This idea of bleeding the entente dry only came about near the end of Verdon and after the war.

And if there's one thing we all know, it's never trust a German military officer's war memoirs.

However, on the morning of 6 November, it became clear that Roosevelt had been re-elected in a landslide, a pro-War Congress forming on his coattails. Then Lloyd George and Alexander Courtenay emerged from Number 10 on the morning of 7 November though, flanked by the Foreign Secretary and War Ministers. The Entente’s three-day political crisis had thus concluded with the governments of the United States and United Kingdom more determined to, and more politically capable of, fighting the war to the bitter end.

Solid goverments on both sides of the Atlantic. Should get a proper peace settlement set up with these two. Hopefully a full surrender with invasion of Germany rather than a damn armistice though.

Not sure the shell shortage will be improved quickly, but in the long run this has huge economic implications for the federation. And conscription will be bitterly contested if the situation is remotely like otl. Even Canada was quite against it, most of their conscripts got out of it one way or another.

 

[Derahan]

I wonder, how many men have died so far in the war for both sides? The french and the germans must have suffered large casualties on their common fronts no?

 

[Le Jones]

So all caught up (huzzah!) and I can again see why this masterpiece has the praise that it has.

It's always easy to scoff at Whitehall turmoil while a war is raging but as you astutely point out, it does have an impact and the vacuum of leadership in London and Washington was chilling (if slightly familiar!). One wonders, though, what the Entente can do, realistically, to get the war won that hasn't already been attempted. Do a deal with Berlin or Rome? Unlikely. Try something utterly wacky? Possibly, but risky. Recommitting to the fight with a sense of renewed vigour is probably the best that they can do which is why your outcome made abundant sense. Cracking stuff.

 

[slothinator]

Well, that was absolutely brutal, and for so little gain...
I'm sure there will be a hell of a lot more political instability in the more than half a decade to go.

 

[Director]

In our timeline, the urgent need on the western front was to find a way to open up offensive warfare again. To this end, a lot of solutions were tried, and each experiment meant tens or hundreds of thousands of casualties. These include massed infantry assault, massive artillery preparation, gas, rolling barrages, infiltration tactics and of course tanks.

Germany made the decision to sit on the defensive on the western front only after its attempts at offensive warfare there had failed. Germany could switch its forces east, or south to prop up the Austrians, while western allied attempts to take the offensive in other theaters were failures. I think there of Gallipoli and Greece, and of the sixteenth battle of the Isonzo (or whichever number it was - after three I think you enter the theater of the absurd).

The mystery to me is how the Germans were able to use infiltration tactics in Russia and in Italy without the western allies catching on and making some preparations. Do we assume they just thought the Russians and Italians were that inept? Did they not suspect that technique might be used on them, or were they so focused on what they were going to do that they overlooked the enemy's ability to act? I think the latter, but I have no hard proof either way.

So... what will be available in 1911? Massed infantry assault, check. Massive artillery preparation - after the artillery and shells are produced, check. But bear in mind that Haber's nitrogen fixation process wasn't scaled up until 1910, so explosives will still likely be a problem for the Central Powers. Gas - maybe, but of course it depends on when the nations in the game get the gas (and gas protection) techs. Rolling barrages, check (assuming there's enough artillery and shells). Infiltration? Definite check. Tanks... given the state of the motor industry in 1911, I think not until the last years of this war.

There will be the usual fight in the western allies over whether to keep shoveling bodies into the western front or to deploy them elsewhere. Given that the first, urgent need is to stabilize the front, I think the troops will continue to go there for now. But France, in this timeline, will have much less political power than it did in ours - it is virtually a client state. Britain will discount the ideas of the United States - she always does. And Britain historically thinks of actions around the perimeter - like Spain.

So I suspect that the western allies will be 'content' to stabilize the front in France and start breaking up the other members of the Central powers. I may, of course, be wrong.

And, by the way, what's the role of that independent Brittany (or was it Normandy) in all this?

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

gas

I think the french used tear gas all the way back in 1914 somewhere, but it didn't really work. Then it took about a year for the germans to figure out how to use gas effectively once they did decide to use it, which meant that everyone had plenty of time to figure out and get gasmasks to everyone.

But bear in mind that Haber's nitrogen fixation process wasn't scaled up until 1910, so explosives will still likely be a problem for the Central Powers. Gas -

Bigger problem then, they don't have the fertiliser either. So they'll be running short of explosives for shells (which is a problem because most of Germany's early successes were using their guns properly together) and food for men and horses faster. And they'll be wasting some of the resources they have ramping up experimentation and testing so even more shortages. Its a good thing Italy joined the war on their side. Otherwise they'd be in big trouble pretty much immedstly.

As is, they're going to struggle against Russia now. No massed artillery against the otl 1914 offensive? Austria Hungary is going to get wiped.

 

[Director]

@TheButterflyComposer - Interesting, I didn't know the French used something gaseous first.

Yeah, the story of WW1 is basically a story of trying to find a solution to trench warfare, then trying it on a small scale - which alerts the enemy and gives them time to prepare. Except, as I mentioned, with infiltration tactics. The Germans managed to catch the Russians, Italians, French and British all by surprise with that.

Haber discovered the process a bit earlier, but Bosch didn't work out how to scale it up until 1910 - which means Germany has basically one growing season to build lots and lots of nitrogen-fixing plants. How well this brand-new tech will work remains to be seen, but for Germany it is 'leap or die' - and as the truism says, you can't leap a chasm in two bounds. No time for prototypes, redesigns or testing...

I hope (and suspect) Germany has a stockpile of saltpeter, phosphate and/or other fertilizer/explosive ingredients on hand. Germany can get the crops in this fall, but come spring - they've got to have fertilizer, and explosives, and lots of both. Will there be enough for Austria and the other members of the Central Powers? In short, no - or not very much - which as you say is going to get a lot of soldiers killed.

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

Except, as I mentioned, with infiltration tactics. The Germans managed to catch the Russians, Italians, French and British all by surprise with that.

With the Italians, the Austrians didn't didn't bother to hide the fact they were preparing for an offensive. French and Italian press was openly calling it before it happened. It was that obvious.

And yet they got away with it.

Whereas on the Western front, both sides were always preparing offensives, and they both knew this. So when it came to salients especially, it was a nerve wracking game of rushing and maybe losing because of that, or missing out on the chance because the other side started first.

 

[DensleyBlair]

Good to see that the capitalists are happy to fight over their free markets while thousands die for want of supplies. I think we've had this exchange before (I certainly have memory of saying it before), but when this is all over there better be one hell of a revolutionary wave.

Speaking of—

I'm going to assume that the 3 Labour MPs who voted for were not, in fact, of the left-wing, in which case…

It was the stuff of Labour’s left wing, not Sinclairism.

[2] – The result is rounded out by the 3 Labour MPs voting for the WIB and all 6 minor regional MPs voting against.

Presented without comment.

 

[BigBadBob]

Mm. The story of Verdon keeps changing. The people in charge were told repeatedly that the idea was to break through to verdun, take it and from there organise a breakout elsewhere whilst the entente tried to get it back, or even go onto more movement past verdun itself. This idea of bleeding the entente dry only came about near the end of Verdon and after the war.

And if there's one thing we all know, it's never trust a German military officer's war memoirs.

Solid goverments on both sides of the Atlantic. Should get a proper peace settlement set up with these two. Hopefully a full surrender with invasion of Germany rather than a damn armistice though.

Not sure the shell shortage will be improved quickly, but in the long run this has huge economic implications for the federation. And conscription will be bitterly contested if the situation is remotely like otl. Even Canada was quite against it, most of their conscripts got out of it one way or another.

I very much think that Verdun was an attempt at a breakthrough that was later retrofitted to be an attritional effort by generals who couldn't even accept they lost the war, much less might have made mistakes in their conduct of it.

Conscription will indeed be a flashpoint, even if the government have an ostensible agreement on passing it when necessary.

I wonder, how many men have died so far in the war for both sides? The french and the germans must have suffered large casualties on their common fronts no?

An awful lot. I haven't done the maths quite as meticulously for what has been written of Act Two as I did for Act One, but it can be assumed that, outside of the killing fields of the Twin Salients, the six months after March 1912 have not been quite as deadly as the six months before. In general, the munitions crisis has kept the Western Entente on the backfoot, and the German focus has moved to the East the same way the British and French are now looking to the Kaiser's allies.

So all caught up (huzzah!) and I can again see why this masterpiece has the praise that it has.

It's always easy to scoff at Whitehall turmoil while a war is raging but as you astutely point out, it does have an impact and the vacuum of leadership in London and Washington was chilling (if slightly familiar!). One wonders, though, what the Entente can do, realistically, to get the war won that hasn't already been attempted. Do a deal with Berlin or Rome? Unlikely. Try something utterly wacky? Possibly, but risky. Recommitting to the fight with a sense of renewed vigour is probably the best that they can do which is why your outcome made abundant sense. Cracking stuff.

Thank you!

Yes. The French, having been preparing for this war since the day the peace treaty was signed in 1887, have much more of a grim consensus about the inevitable cost. London and Washington, on the other hand, needed to learn that lesson the hard way, and the dual political crises in the English-Speaking World were very much about whether or not to commit to the same, bitter task the French have, or abandon the whole endeavour.

Well, that was absolutely brutal, and for so little gain...
I'm sure there will be a hell of a lot more political instability in the more than half a decade to go.

Indeed. Asquith, for one, does not intend to relinquish the grip he has regained on some measure of power.

In our timeline, the urgent need on the western front was to find a way to open up offensive warfare again. To this end, a lot of solutions were tried, and each experiment meant tens or hundreds of thousands of casualties. These include massed infantry assault, massive artillery preparation, gas, rolling barrages, infiltration tactics and of course tanks.

Germany made the decision to sit on the defensive on the western front only after its attempts at offensive warfare there had failed. Germany could switch its forces east, or south to prop up the Austrians, while western allied attempts to take the offensive in other theaters were failures. I think there of Gallipoli and Greece, and of the sixteenth battle of the Isonzo (or whichever number it was - after three I think you enter the theater of the absurd).

The mystery to me is how the Germans were able to use infiltration tactics in Russia and in Italy without the western allies catching on and making some preparations. Do we assume they just thought the Russians and Italians were that inept? Did they not suspect that technique might be used on them, or were they so focused on what they were going to do that they overlooked the enemy's ability to act? I think the latter, but I have no hard proof either way.

So... what will be available in 1911? Massed infantry assault, check. Massive artillery preparation - after the artillery and shells are produced, check. But bear in mind that Haber's nitrogen fixation process wasn't scaled up until 1910, so explosives will still likely be a problem for the Central Powers. Gas - maybe, but of course it depends on when the nations in the game get the gas (and gas protection) techs. Rolling barrages, check (assuming there's enough artillery and shells). Infiltration? Definite check. Tanks... given the state of the motor industry in 1911, I think not until the last years of this war.

There will be the usual fight in the western allies over whether to keep shoveling bodies into the western front or to deploy them elsewhere. Given that the first, urgent need is to stabilize the front, I think the troops will continue to go there for now. But France, in this timeline, will have much less political power than it did in ours - it is virtually a client state. Britain will discount the ideas of the United States - she always does. And Britain historically thinks of actions around the perimeter - like Spain.

So I suspect that the western allies will be 'content' to stabilize the front in France and start breaking up the other members of the Central powers. I may, of course, be wrong.

And, by the way, what's the role of that independent Brittany (or was it Normandy) in all this?

Your question actually reminded me I'd forgotten to mention the fate of the Breton Kingdom, so it opens this chapter.

Your analysis is pretty much correct. The miserable failure at the Twin Salients does drive a search for alternate ways to force an outcome.

I think the french used tear gas all the way back in 1914 somewhere, but it didn't really work. Then it took about a year for the germans to figure out how to use gas effectively once they did decide to use it, which meant that everyone had plenty of time to figure out and get gasmasks to everyone.

Bigger problem then, they don't have the fertiliser either. So they'll be running short of explosives for shells (which is a problem because most of Germany's early successes were using their guns properly together) and food for men and horses faster. And they'll be wasting some of the resources they have ramping up experimentation and testing so even more shortages. Its a good thing Italy joined the war on their side. Otherwise they'd be in big trouble pretty much immedstly.

As is, they're going to struggle against Russia now. No massed artillery against the otl 1914 offensive? Austria Hungary is going to get wiped.

@TheButterflyComposer - Interesting, I didn't know the French used something gaseous first.

Yeah, the story of WW1 is basically a story of trying to find a solution to trench warfare, then trying it on a small scale - which alerts the enemy and gives them time to prepare. Except, as I mentioned, with infiltration tactics. The Germans managed to catch the Russians, Italians, French and British all by surprise with that.

Haber discovered the process a bit earlier, but Bosch didn't work out how to scale it up until 1910 - which means Germany has basically one growing season to build lots and lots of nitrogen-fixing plants. How well this brand-new tech will work remains to be seen, but for Germany it is 'leap or die' - and as the truism says, you can't leap a chasm in two bounds. No time for prototypes, redesigns or testing...

I hope (and suspect) Germany has a stockpile of saltpeter, phosphate and/or other fertilizer/explosive ingredients on hand. Germany can get the crops in this fall, but come spring - they've got to have fertilizer, and explosives, and lots of both. Will there be enough for Austria and the other members of the Central Powers? In short, no - or not very much - which as you say is going to get a lot of soldiers killed.

With the Italians, the Austrians didn't didn't bother to hide the fact they were preparing for an offensive. French and Italian press was openly calling it before it happened. It was that obvious.

And yet they got away with it.

Whereas on the Western front, both sides were always preparing offensives, and they both knew this. So when it came to salients especially, it was a nerve wracking game of rushing and maybe losing because of that, or missing out on the chance because the other side started first.

The Italian performance in both world wars is just baffling to me. Everyone else had their highs and lows, but the Italians seem to have been just consistent under-performers.

As for the discussion on phosphate, fertiliser, and other explosives ingredients, we can assume that the necessary processes came about a little earlier ITTL, as a result of an even more intense arms race. We can also assume that the Germans, realising they were at a disadvantage in procuring materials if the Royal Navy did join the war, gathered quite the stockpile pre-1911.

Good to see that the capitalists are happy to fight over their free markets while thousands die for want of supplies. I think we've had this exchange before (I certainly have memory of saying it before), but when this is all over there better be one hell of a revolutionary wave.

Speaking of—

I'm going to assume that the 3 Labour MPs who voted for were not, in fact, of the left-wing, in which case…

Presented without comment.

Fear not, the continent's troubles will not end with any armistice.

The accusations of the Liberals and Conservatives are focussed on the effect of de facto nationalisation on the owners of these industries, and not so much the union-suppressing provisions. The more social-minded Liberals and Labour are far less sanguine about the latter. All the factions voting for the WIB are treating the parts they don't like as a wartime necessity to be repealed ASAP in the peace, while the parts that align closer to their ideologies... well, those should be a matter for reasoned debate post-war. The other two are also currently being whipped by Ramsay MacDonald so as to avoid Labour being seen as the Anti-War Party, since the war does still enjoy wide-spread support, even if, as the end to Act One noted, it is now less built on enthusiasm than it is on a bloody-minded refusal to 'let the Germans get away with it'.

 

[BigBadBob]

PART TWO
IBERIA





20
Crossing the Pyrenees
​

If the enemy does not defeat you, the mountain will.

Common refrain among troops on the Pyrenean Front​

Though the focus in the six months between the end of the War of Movement and the conclusion of the Second Battle of the Salients was very much on Northern France, this did not mean that other fronts went silent. In Brittany, the French Eighth Army forced the surrender of the last of the Breton Army at Brest on 3 June. Though two divisions were left to provide muscle for the temporary military government there [1], this freed a large contingent of troops for the southern fronts. By the time they arrived at Arles, in early July, it was clear where the weight of Entente efforts would fall.

The calculation was quite simple. The armies involved on both the Italian and Spanish fronts had made efforts to probe their enemies’ lines. Though the terrain was unfavourable everywhere, the Spanish front offered clear advantages to the attackers when compared to other. The Pyrenees were a formidable challenge, but the Alps were practically impassable. With luck and enough resources, a push to Cannes, or even Nice, could succeed. After that, the only way forward would be through mountains, or the small strip of coastal road that would mostly provide an invitation for the entire Entente force to die at a thousand chokepoints.

The Pyrenees though, particularly in the Basque country, were lower lying. In the east, the border town of Le Perthus/Els Limits provided the Spanish with defensible positions, but south of it, the town of Figueres was situated on plains. If Entente forces could push through to it, they would not exactly be in favourable terrain, as hills and smaller ranges still dominated much of Catalonia, but they would be through the main obstacle, and could bring their guns to bear on the less-equipped Spanish. This last point was the deciding factor; the Italians were not only in more defensible positions, but could more than match the firepower of their Entente opposites, not least because the latter were under-resourced compared to the armies facing the Germans.

General Frederick Funston, 1912​

The final factor was political, and related to coalition warfare. The American Expeditionary Force, recently arrived in Southern France, was largely led by men who had, only a decade earlier, been at war with Spain. The Spanish-American War had been a stunning success for the US Navy, but the Army had seen little combat. Save for a set of minor engagements in Cuba, most of the fighting had been done by nationalist guerrillas there and in the other two ceded colonies of Puerto Rico and the Philippines. The opportunity to engage the Spanish Army in full was a red rag to General Frederick Funston and his men.

Funston had been Roosevelt’s choice to lead the AEF due to his role in the aforementioned Cuban battles, and his successful campaign against the Philippine independence movement, which had continued its pre-war guerrilla campaign after it became clear that the US did not intend to relinquish the islands as soon as possible. The President and Funston also shared an understanding of the delicate political situation in 1912. While it would not do for American troops to be shipped to Europe merely to sit around and do nothing – as this would be interpreted as an attempt to keep casualties low in advance of the Presidential Election – neither would it be acceptable for the AEF to experience a baptism of fire anywhere close in its brutality to that which greeted the BEF in its first year. This was only further confirmed by the first weeks of the Second Battle of the Salients.

This way, strategic concerns aligned with political concerns, and it was American politics that played the largest part on the Spanish Front in 1912. The British and French governments were entirely consumed by the carnage in Belgium and Nord-Pas-de-Calais, allowing Arles HQ the level of pragmatic co-operation and freedom of manoeuvre it enjoyed. Initially, Haig, Lanrezac, and Gouraud had approached Funston about integrating the AEF with Arles HQ, but Funston informed them that Washington would almost certainly reject the loss of control this entailed.

When reporting back to the President on the arrangement the French and British had made, Roosevelt did indeed oppose the merging of commands. As he pointed out, the AEF was the primary American force in Europe, rather than a set of smaller forces on a neglected front. The members of Arles HQ did not have the eyes of their respective nations on them. However, seeing the value of a less politicised decision-making process, Roosevelt instructed Funston to co-operate with Arles HQ on an informal basis.

American troops in the mountains near Roncesvalles, October 1912​

This proved a particularly important development in 1912, as the Second Battle of the Salients and the resulting munitions crisis left the French short of materiel and Haig practically altogether without it. It had stalled the general advance towards Perpignan that had been in the works during the early spring. Anything more ambitious would have to rely heavily on the 250,000 men of the AEF, who were being supplied by an American arms industry that was kicking into gear much faster than the US contribution to the land war. Funston was happy to oblige.

With the Spanish focussing their own July-September push north from Perpignan, aiming to capture Narbonne and Carcassonne on the Aude, and the AEF’s supplied largely landing at Bordeaux, the obvious choice was for Funston’s force to push into the Basque Country. They would get the opportunity to fight in open country from the Adour to the mountains, and from there could make more targeted pushes through the passes and valleys of the West Pyrenees. Though this would undoubtedly draw Spanish forces if the offensive experienced success, it would hopefully not encounter too strong a reprioritisation before the supply situation resolved itself and Haig and Gouraud could start their push to Figueres.

The AEF’s push began on 19 September, less than a week after the end of the bloodletting in the Salients. Roosevelt confided in his diary the fear that they would face the same kind of slaughter, a one-two punch of terrible news from the European front that would convince Americans the war was not worth the American blood that would be spilt. Instead, Funston delivered the most successful Entente offensive of 1912, liberating Biarritz and Bayonne within a month, and even pushing as far into the mountains as the other side of the Spanish border at Roncesvalles in late October. From the forward positions there, a man might feel like he could almost make out the low plain and the city of Pamplona to the south. Here though, the offensive stalled. A combination of colder weather, mountain terrain, and the relocation of troops from elsewhere to face the AEF began to take its toll.

The success of the AEF’s offensive, especially as much of it was attributed in the British press to the overwhelming firepower superiority of the Americans [2], convinced London and Paris that the Spanish Front could provide the victories that seemed ever more distant further north, where the Germans could match them for sheer amounts of led put in the air. Since the failure at the Twin Salients, the strategic thinking had been turning, particularly in London, to the idea of collapsing the Kaiser Pact through targeting its weaker members. If Spain, Italy, and the Ottomans, or a combination of the three, could be forced out of the war, Berlin would surely realise that it was doomed.

French troops near Le Perthus/Els Limits, March 1913​

With the first fruits of the War Industries Act's reorganisation of British industrial relations and munitions procurement now directed to Haig’s forces – already reinforced by Lieutenant-General Wolfson’s XVI Corps, which transformed him into a General and commander of the new Eighth Army – Arles HQ would soon be ready to execute the second part of the plan to cross the Pyrenees. Of course, the problem with the political attention that had brought Haig and Gouraud more materiel and men was that Arles HQ’s operations, and its unique command structure, came under unprecedented scrutiny. Despite laying out the success of the joint command, Haig, Gouraud, and Lanrezac’s experiment came to a premature end on 14 December.

The consolation was that an institutional culture of sorts had developed, and Funston’s informal participation offered a model for the maintenance of that culture. While the decisions would now have to go up and down the respective chains of command, the information-sharing between the Generals’ offices allowed all three armies to advocate for largely the same courses of action, based on largely the same intelligence. With communication channels more open at every level, the response time of the southern armies to events, though not quite as miraculous as when Arles HQ was still in operation, maintained a respectable premium on their northern counterparts’.

When the offensive in the East Pyrenees began on 28 February 1913, the combination of firepower and co-ordination saw Perpignan liberated within a month, much like Bayonne and Biarritz earlier. The mountains though, as for the AEF, proved a tougher nut to crack. British and French troops spent much of April in brutal battles around Le Perthus/Els Limits, reducing the town to rubble, and leaving scars in the surrounding mountains that will stand as long as the Pyrenees themselves. Come May though, the 21st (Lancashire Fusiliers) Division was the first Entente unit to reach the Figueres city limits. Though the drive through the pass had seen the division suffer casualties equal to almost three quarters of its February strength, the Spanish had suffered equally appalling losses, which they could ill afford, and the mountains, their greatest natural defence, had been traversed.


[1] – The actions of the military government and its troops would leave deep reservoirs of resentment in Brittany. The same belief in Breton nationalism that had convinced Germany to create an independent Brittany to rob France of Brest now drove a brutal campaign to root out potential separatist leaders once the peninsula had been reintegrated. That a French Republic’s first act upon gaining control in Brittany had been centralisation and a brutal campaign of suppression was an echo of the Chouannerie of 1794-1800, and cemented an, if not outright Royalist, anti-Republican tradition in Brittany.

[2] – Though this certainly played a role, the success of the offensive was down to multiple factors. These included the gap in training between the Spanish and the AEF; having not been needed immediately, the US Army was able to take the lesson learned the hard way by the BEF in 1911, and use its pre-war Regulars, numbering only 100,000, as the officer corps for its first wave of volunteers, instead of losing much of its professional soldiery in the first months.

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

Everyone else had their highs and lows, but the Italians seem to have been just consistent under-performers.

They had good bits too, but even then that led to disaster. Their breaking of the asutrian lines in autumn of 1918 led to Germany panicking, realising they were about to be invaded along an entire new front by Italians, and started negotiating an armistice.

Hence stabbed in the back myth fodder, hence the rest of the 20th century.

You can blame Italy for everything if you try hard enough.

Though two divisions were left to provide muscle for the temporary military government there [1], this freed a large contingent of troops for the southern fronts. By the time they arrived at Arles, in early July, it was clear where the weight of Entente efforts would fall.

Hmm. Possible naval landing in Santiago?

This last point was the deciding factor; the Italians were not only in more defensible positions, but could more than match the firepower of their Entente opposites, not least because the latter were under-resourced compared to the armies facing the Germans.

Italy is a fortress, but can be locked into it. Which is what the allies should do, really.

If Spain, Italy, and the Ottomans, or a combination of the three, could be forced out of the war, Berlin would surely realise that it was doomed.

...gallipoli beckons.

 

[DensleyBlair]

It is perhaps unfair of me, or premature, or both, but I get the feeling that Spain will not be the toughest of enemy nuts to crack with the Pyrenees having at leats proven passable. But complacency is the last thing you need in the Great War of all things, so I will keep my ill informed feelings to myself and watch how it all unfolds.

You can blame Italy for everything if you try hard enough.

All roads lead to Rome and all.

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

It is perhaps unfair of me, or premature, or both, but I get the feeling that Spain will not be the toughest of enemy nuts to crack with the Pyrenees having at leats proven passable.

Let us just say that, if the allies get out of the mountain regions, Spain is going to have a very hard time. But wide open plains just means a bit more movement, plus trenchwarfare. Basically the Eastern front but sunnier.

What the allies should really try to do is take down each enemy one at a time, focusing massively on one at a time rather (all fronts are active because everyone is attacking, all the time) but still...

Spain, through the mountains, and maybe through some amphibious landing either to relieve Gibralter or widen the northern front (Santiago or granada, essentially).

It would be much easier for the allies (and mean they wouldn't have to navally land) if they could get Portugal to come onto their side somehow (using British relations/the fact rhe allies are already bearing down on Spain and they are next if they dont). Then the Portuguese with British and amercian support can burst out in all directions. At the very least, it makes Spanish defence much harder.

Yes, i think that will be the main three thrusts for the next bit of the war. Through the mountains, potential naval landings somewhere, and can we get Portugal to flip and stab.

 

[Director]

Bayonne? Good Heavens, they think they're in New Jersey!

Seriously, the terrain in Spain resembles the American West, which the long-term soldiers have been operating in since the 1850s at least. So terrain-and-weather-wise, hot, dry and rough won't be anything new. Adequate maps and logistics - that'll be the challenge.

Spain simply can't mount an effective defense - I don't think it has the population, resources or industry for modern warfare, and of course it has no communications with the other members of its alliance. I would wager that the Spanish government has been looking for a way out ever since war broke out. The last thing they want is to fight a long, bitter war in Spain or - really - anywhere.

The Italians were certainly brave and determined in WW1, but the (somewhat grasping) negotiations that brought them in on the Allied side, the 'unproductive' nature of their military effort and the way they had to be propped up economically and (after Caporetto) militarily - left Britain and France soured on their ally.

It's good to see Funny Freddy at work. I do think that Britain would quietly insist on having 'liason' officers since they would think the Americans aren't skilled in large-unit operations. They won't acknowledge that they had no such experience a short while ago... I think FF is a good choice for top command but he's not going to be any easier to get along with than Pershing.

A great update! Thank you for the clarification on Brittany. The French will feel just a bit better - they no longer have to fight on six fronts LOL.

 

[slothinator]

It looks like the natural borders of France work both ways. In any case, even a modest advance is a good boost to morale in these trying times.
As for collapsing the weaker members of the Pact, if a Gallipoli is involved we should hope it will be more successful. And hey, there's a Gallipoli on the Italian coast as well so you're spoiled for choice.

You can blame Italy for everything if you try hard enough.

A fine art that the Italians themselves have perfected.

 

[BigBadBob]

Q1 ACAs have begun, so it's time to VOTE VOTE VOTE!​

They had good bits too, but even then that led to disaster. Their breaking of the asutrian lines in autumn of 1918 led to Germany panicking, realising they were about to be invaded along an entire new front by Italians, and started negotiating an armistice.

Hence stabbed in the back myth fodder, hence the rest of the 20th century.

You can blame Italy for everything if you try hard enough.

Hmm. Possible naval landing in Santiago?

Italy is a fortress, but can be locked into it. Which is what the allies should do, really.

...gallipoli beckons.

Blame Italy! Blame Italy!

It is perhaps unfair of me, or premature, or both, but I get the feeling that Spain will not be the toughest of enemy nuts to crack with the Pyrenees having at leats proven passable. But complacency is the last thing you need in the Great War of all things, so I will keep my ill informed feelings to myself and watch how it all unfolds.

All roads lead to Rome and all.

I wouldn't call it unfair to characterise Spain as the most vulnerable Pact member. They will exhibit surprising resilience as it all collapses, but they were never going to thrive with their strategic position.

Let us just say that, if the allies get out of the mountain regions, Spain is going to have a very hard time. But wide open plains just means a bit more movement, plus trenchwarfare. Basically the Eastern front but sunnier.

What the allies should really try to do is take down each enemy one at a time, focusing massively on one at a time rather (all fronts are active because everyone is attacking, all the time) but still...

Spain, through the mountains, and maybe through some amphibious landing either to relieve Gibralter or widen the northern front (Santiago or granada, essentially).

It would be much easier for the allies (and mean they wouldn't have to navally land) if they could get Portugal to come onto their side somehow (using British relations/the fact rhe allies are already bearing down on Spain and they are next if they dont). Then the Portuguese with British and amercian support can burst out in all directions. At the very least, it makes Spanish defence much harder.

Yes, i think that will be the main three thrusts for the next bit of the war. Through the mountains, potential naval landings somewhere, and can we get Portugal to flip and stab.

Well, well, well; today is all about Portugal!

Bayonne? Good Heavens, they think they're in New Jersey!

Seriously, the terrain in Spain resembles the American West, which the long-term soldiers have been operating in since the 1850s at least. So terrain-and-weather-wise, hot, dry and rough won't be anything new. Adequate maps and logistics - that'll be the challenge.

Spain simply can't mount an effective defense - I don't think it has the population, resources or industry for modern warfare, and of course it has no communications with the other members of its alliance. I would wager that the Spanish government has been looking for a way out ever since war broke out. The last thing they want is to fight a long, bitter war in Spain or - really - anywhere.

The Italians were certainly brave and determined in WW1, but the (somewhat grasping) negotiations that brought them in on the Allied side, the 'unproductive' nature of their military effort and the way they had to be propped up economically and (after Caporetto) militarily - left Britain and France soured on their ally.

It's good to see Funny Freddy at work. I do think that Britain would quietly insist on having 'liason' officers since they would think the Americans aren't skilled in large-unit operations. They won't acknowledge that they had no such experience a short while ago... I think FF is a good choice for top command but he's not going to be any easier to get along with than Pershing.

A great update! Thank you for the clarification on Brittany. The French will feel just a bit better - they no longer have to fight on six fronts LOL.

As I said to Densley, the Spanish will mount a surprisingly determined defence, even as thir defeat becomes, essentially, a matter of time in this update.

Thank you!

It looks like the natural borders of France work both ways. In any case, even a modest advance is a good boost to morale in these trying times.
As for collapsing the weaker members of the Pact, if a Gallipoli is involved we should hope it will be more successful. And hey, there's a Gallipoli on the Italian coast as well so you're spoiled for choice.

A fine art that the Italians themselves have perfected.

Lot of landing spots to consider. As far as Gallipoli itself goes, it would be good to remember that Greece is a member of the Entente ITTL. The problem is that the Mediterranean is still, for now, the preserve of the Spanish-Italian Joint Fleet.

 

[BigBadBob]

21
Lisbon and London

​

They shall henceforth reciprocally be friends to friends and enemies to enemies, and shall assist, maintain, and uphold each other mutually, by sea and by land, against all men that may live or die of whatever degree, station, rank, or condition they may be, and against their lands, realms, and dominions.

Text of the Anglo-Portuguese Treaty of 1373​

From the signing of the Anglo-Portuguese Treaty of 1373, up to the present day, there has only been one war in which an independent Portugal has been at war with England, or its successor state of the United Kingdom. That the Great War is the one exception was the result of Spanish alignment with the Kaiser Pact in 1904. From as early as 1905, the Spanish Ambassador was placing intense pressure on the alternating governments of Hintze Ribeiro and Joao Franco to repudiate the 1886 reassertion of the alliance. By 1909, this had led to a request from Portugal that the United Kingdom consider any war against Spain to be outside of the scope of the treaty.

The British government was willing to go as far as an assurance that they would not activate the provisions of the treaty in such an event, but would not reopen the treaty itself. The logic was that the outside possibility of Portuguese participation in a war would be a deterrent to the Spanish, even if the Portuguese government could offer some assurance of neutrality. The Spanish, already gearing up for war and wishing their right flank secure as could be, only hardened their stance. In June 1910, they offered an ultimatum; Portugal could apply for accession to the Kaiser Pact, or it could be treated automatically as a combatant in the event of war between Spain and Britain.

Though the government, then led by Franco, attempted to keep the ultimatum a secret, agonising over it within cabinet meetings for over a month, the information leaked to the military. On 24 July, a cadre of generals and admirals performed a quiet, and bloodless, military coup to break the governmental deadlock. Rather than arrest the government and take explicit control, their men surrounded the Ajuda Palace late at night, and dictated terms to the King.

Upon summoning the government, Carlos I explained that he had lost faith in the government over its vacillation regarding the ultimatum. The appointment of Francisco Joaquim Ferreira do Amaral, a retired admiral, would reflect the moment of national crisis that such vacillation had created. The rift within the – now outgoing – government allowed Ferreira do Amaral to claim some legitimacy through the pro-Pact ministers’ participation in his government. The coup, coupled with the repudiation of the alliance with the UK and accession to the Pact, still caused an uproar amongst the liberal elements of the Portuguese establishment. Many, fearing a clampdown on dissenting voices, which eventually did come at the outbreak of war, fled to the UK.

Amongst those that fled was Ernesto Hintze Ribeiro, who, had he been Prime Minister at the time of the ultimatum, most historians reckon would have rejected it. In his exile between 1910 and 1913, Ribeiro formed an anti-militarist alliance with progressive and republican politicians he had spent much of his life on the opposite side of debates from. These men provided a government-in-exile, with which the British government could drive a wedge in Portuguese politics that Austen Chamberlain hoped would obviate the need for British troops to fight their long-standing allies.

Ernesto Hintze Ribeiro, 1907​

Throughout 1912, the idea had been proposed that a force of Portuguese exiles, backed by the Royal Navy, could make landing near Lisbon. The deep currents of Portuguese politics and public opinion, the exiles assured the British, would lead to a general military defection and popular uprising against the government. The efforts the Portuguese Navy had so far made in the war, which amounted to cursory sallies out of port, certainly supported a reluctance to engage the Entente fully. What convinced the British the idea could work was the analysis by the exiles, and their own embassy pre-war, of the reasons for the coup in the first place.

Neither believed that the plotters of 24 July were particularly interested in a Pact victory. Rather, they suspected that the plotters had believed the nation stood a better chance with the Pact than the Entente, especially as the latter would be unlikely to have the capacity to support Portugal in the early war. Without such support, Spain carrying through on its ultimatum would certainly lead to a brutal occupation of the country. Furthermore, with the expansionist, revanchist nature of Spain’s ‘military absolutist’ government, such an occupation would almost certainly be used as pretence for a recreation of the Iberian Union of 1580-1640.

If this analysis were correct, even many of the central figures of the government could well join the exiles if offered amnesty, should Spain appear sufficiently weak when the landing occurred. The Army-in-Exile was first constituted in August 1912. Over the course of the next six months, its numbers swelled from an initial 500 to some 6,700. On the scale of the conflict raging across the globe, this was hardly an army. It would not have constituted so much as a full-strength division in the forces of the Great Powers. Thankfully, its purpose was not to liberate Portugal by force of arms. All they needed was the crack in the Spanish armour that would give their countrymen the courage to strike with them when they returned home.

When the 21st Division pushed into Figueres, confirming the breach of the Pyrenees barrier, it seemed the time had come. With Gibraltar still unbowed, Monte Hacho fallen to the French in July 1912, and now Catalonia under direct threat, the Portuguese military and government could surely see the writing on the wall. The landing was set for 24 July, the anniversary of the coup, at Nazaré, some 70 miles north of Lisbon. With the Spanish-Italian fleet still confined to the Mediterranean by the Rock, the Royal Navy’s Mediterranean Fleet could bring its full force to bear in bombarding any emplacements on the coast.

The Exiles on the outskirts of Lisbon, 29 July 1913​

Though there were other beaches, closer to the city, that the landing could have set upon, Nazaré was known for republican sympathies before the 24 July coup. This would hopefully allow the exiles to set up a defensible position before moving southwards, perhaps even allowing events in the capital to unfold peacefully before such a move was necessary. In the event, this did happen to some extent. Once Nazaré was taken – with no casualties, as the presence of the Royal Navy deterred the small garrison unit of about 500 men from mounting a defence of the town – Ribeiro’s idea of an amnesty was put into action. He requested the surrendered garrison, of which many had already defected, telegram the offer to Lisbon HQ.

The offer of amnesty was taken to the Joint Army-Navy Command that had come to act as the de facto government since the outbreak of hostilities. There, it caused a spirited debate on the merits of Portuguese defection from the Pact. Some argued that a Pact defeat was far from guaranteed, and defection would surely lead to even worse consequences than defeat by the Entente. Others argued that the real defection had been that from the Entente to the Pact, an exigency which could no longer justify itself. In part, these divisions were based on appraisals of the strategic situation in Iberia, but also on the extent to which the commander in question believed the amnesty was a sincere offer. As that night would reveal, there was also a contingent of the Portuguese armed forces that had bought fully into the version of Military Absolutism that they had instituted.

When the Joint Command broke, a long night of scheming and political disintegration began. Come morning, the Lisbon Division, tasked with guarding the approach, would have entered the city itself, its commander Lieutenant-General Manuel Gomes da Costa having decided to side with the Exiles. The Portuguese Army though, save for a single division in Catalonia, had largely been kept at home, and its various commanders were thus able to quickly recall their men once it became clear that da Costa was manoeuvring to end the indecision in the same way that many of they, themselves, had done to the Franco Cabinet.

If it had only been the army, this might still have been too late to make da Costa’s countercoup a fait accompli, but the Portuguese Marine Corps, confined to barracks in Lisbon harbour for the duration of the war so far with its commander, Admiral Fernando Correia, chose to follow its own commander in a move to capture the King for the Absolutists. For the second time in his reign, Carlos I found himself captive in the Ajuda Palace. The result was a standoff between the larger Lisbon Division and the entrenched Marine Corps. This standoff only expanded as the various units recalled made their way to the city over the next 48 hours. Come the evening of 27 July, it was clear that Portugal was on the brink of civil war.

Lieutenant-General Manuel Gomes da Costa​

Almost the last major unit in Portugal outside of Lisbon were now the Exiles. In constant contact with da Costa, who had become the de facto leader of the pro-Entente forces, they now rushed double-time to make it to the city. Ribeiro, it was hoped, could broker a peaceful resolution with his presence, being able to confirm the Exiles’ telegrams in person with a signed letter from Chamberlain. They finally arrived late on the 29th, when the situation had reached fever pitch, with sporadic pot shots risking the outbreak of a full-on battle for Lisbon.

Ribeiro’s arrival finally brought some of the major players to the table, including Ferreira do Amaral, who still remained, ostensibly, the head of government. Chamberlain’s letter, along with Ribeiro’s faith that the British Army would make haste to place troops in a friendly Portugal, thus securing the country from an immediate assault by Spanish forces, convinced many of the purely strategic proponents of the Pact. The Portuguese Marine Corps, however, turned out to want no part of the defection. Correia was convinced that a ‘military surrender’ would inevitably lead to a ‘national surrender’ (i.e., a republican and progressive revolution in all but name).

With the Marine Corps holed up in the Palace, and Carlos I still in their hands, the new government faced a fundamental challenge to its authority. The decision was therefore taken to attempt a liberation of the King by force. The brutal six-day Battle of the Ajuda ended in the death of 1,123 Marines (out of a total strength of 5,000), including Correia, and, in a blow to the government, the King. This could well have sparked the civil war that it seemed had been avoided by the negotiations, with a government that had more than incidental support from republicans taking actions that led to the death of the monarch. Instead, da Costa and Ribeiro chose to stick to a strict narrative in which the King had died fighting alongside government troops that had just arrived to liberate him from his captivity [1].

Manuel II, King of Portugal​

The death of the King did offer a chance to lionise him as a man who tried his best to navigate the dangerous position Portugal had found itself in between 1904 and 1913. The accession of a new King, in Manuel II, also allowed for the new government to make an attempt at reconciling its republican and progressive elements with the conservatives that had dominated civil policy in the years after the coup. Though the monarchy would be kept, Manuel’s power over the government would be severely curbed. Before 24 July, politics had still, ultimately, been dominated by friends of the King. In exile, Ribeiro had envisioned a more British system, but the experience of the liberation had convinced him that the monarch’s position as the font of all authority needed to become entirely de jure.

Before such a system could begin to embed itself though, there was the matter of the war. Ribeiro’s government immediately renounced the Kaiser Pact, and formally announced that it was reactivating the Anglo-Portuguese Treaty of 1886. Entente nations moved quickly to recognise the new government, and the British government to invoke the mutual defence clauses of the Treaty. The British also moved to immediately transport XIII Corps to Albufeira on the southern Portuguese coast.

The reason for this last move was the opportunity to relieve the Rock, which had now been under siege for almost two years. It had survived thanks to the Mediterranean Fleet’s April 1912 ‘support run’, which had replenished dwindling resources, but also crippled HMS Victoria. Since then, acute need had been kept at bay by daring night-time operations based in Morocco. The defenders had been reduced to a third of their strength, and Spanish troops had only been unable to take advantage of this due to the deterioration of the Pyrenean Front requiring a slow bleed of their own men northward. The Portuguese flip back to the Entente was what finally reduced the siege force to a token garrison for Algeciras and La Linea, barely outnumbering the Gibraltar garrison it had faced for so long, effectively ending the Fifteenth, and final, Siege of Gibraltar.


[1] – It took half a century for the truth to come out, which is that no account of the day agrees on how, or by whose hand, Carlos I had died. In the crossfire of a confusing firefight between men using the same guns and ammunition, more than one soldier exhibited wounds similar to the King’s that made it impossible to tell if the fatal shot had come from friend or foe. Equally, accounts differ as to whether the King had indicated a preference for his defenders or liberators (depending on the point of view), though the weight of eyewitness testimony from those who still lived at the time of the 1968 Ajuda Commission seems to support the Ribeiro-da Costa narrative.

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

Ah, I ventured correctly then. Very good to see Spain surrounded on all sides and destined for defeat. Now the question is, how long can they hold out, how much will the allies give to take it, and how much will the enemy give to keep them in?