Chapter VII: Guns, Butter or Battleships.
The British 1936 re-armament plan is not a particularly useful guide to how Britain subsequently re-armed. This is not a good thing in a re-armament plan, however it was arguably not the fault of the plan itself; the fallout from the second London naval disarmament conference could hardly be predicted, while events in Abyssinia would prove far more disruptive to the land and aerial portions. Given that it would be overtaken by events so soon after being produced it is tempting to dismiss it as being of purely academic interest. It is however worthy of our attention as it provides a valuable insight into British defence thinking at the time. More practically it will be easier to understand how later events changed defence priorities if we understand what those priorities originally were.
The naval element of the plan was centred around HMS
Ark Royal which had been ordered under the 1934 naval estimates and only laid down at Cammell Laird's shipyard in the autumn of 1935. It is a telling commentary on the state of the Royal Navy's at that point that 22,000t of brand new aircraft carrier could be added to the fleet and Britain would still not breach her commitments under the naval treaties - the fleet was so far under the tonnage limits for carriers that the
Ark could easily be accommodated. In fairness to the Admiralty it must be said that out of the five signatories only Japan had fully utilised their carrier tonnage, but when those signatories includes the Italian Regia Marina (0 in service carriers, 0 planned) and the French Marine National (1 in service carrier, the heavily compromised and experimental
Béarn and 'design studies' ongoing) it is clear the field was not exactly strong.
If one assumes that the 'experimental' carriers
Argus,
Hermes and
Eagle could be scrapped and replacements built at will, as was explicitly allowed in the treaty, that left the
Furious and her half sisters which used only ~66,000t out of an allowance of 136,000t for carriers. Given that the treaty limit on an individual carrier was 27,000t, and that the Royal Navy hadn't taken advantage of the clause allowing any signatory two 33,000t carriers if they wished, the obvious question about the
Ark is why she came in at 'only' 22,000t. It was not due to optimisation, an earlier plan had called for four 17,500t ships that would have neatly used every tonne of the allowance. Instead we must look at the British government's hopes for the upcoming London naval conference, at which it was hoped an extension to the naval treaties would be agreed. After much deliberation and argument the plan envisaged the British delegation working for lower limits on both individual and total carrier tonnage. The
Ark Royal was designed with that objective in mind, and so had the lowest tonnage the Admiralty thought they could get away with and still have a viable fleet carrier. Similar thinking was behind the design studies for the next generation of battleships, designers asked to look at future ships as small as 12" armed 25,000 'light' battleships in the wildly optimistic hope that such limits could be agreed in the next treaty. If nothing else this demonstrates that economic consideration had been one of the key drivers behind British defence thinking under the Baldwin government.
HMS Ark Royal, an impressive design with an appalling planned air wing. Taken from a purely naval perspective the Ark was a modern ship, pioneering the widespread use of welding in a Royal Navy capital ship and mounting a (for the time) impressive anti-aircraft armament. Her aviation facilities were a leap forward over the conversion and experimental carriers then in service, even if experience would show that not all of those leaps had been entirely wise. Overall she would be an excellent and much need addition to the fleet, which made the contrast with her air wing all the more stark. The photo above shows a squadron of Fairey Swordfish torpedo bombers which were slated to form the reconnaissance and strike portion of her air wing. Though technically of a similar vintage to the new carried (the first flight being in 1934) the Swordfish would be severely outdated before the Ark had even commissioned and finished working up.
Of greater long term significance, and a move that would survive all the upheavals that would disrupt the rest of the plan, was the return of carrier aviation to the Admiralty. Full implementation of that simple sounding decision would take many years, not just establishing new training and maintenance facilities, but developing the Admiralty's capacity to specify, assess and procure new aircraft, areas the Royal Air Force had kept very much to themselves. This process would be complicated by Treasury opposition to the entire effort, many senior civil servants viewing it as little more than a wasteful duplication of effort and an undoing of the successful 'reforms' that had killed the Royal Naval Air Service in the first place. The first practical sign of the change would be the re-establishment of the post of Fifth Sea Lord as Chief of the Naval Air Services, the Admiralty Board selecting the experienced carrier officer Admiral Alexander Ramsay. While much of Ramsay's work would be organisational, concerned with getting the relevant Admiralty departments ready for the transfer of control, his office would also be the conduit for the new research efforts as the Admiralty began to pursue it's own vision of naval aviation instead of the one it inherited from the RAF. While some of his efforts would come to naught, the name Fleet Air Arm would stick despite official preference for the title of Naval Air Service, on the important matters his time in office would be a success and he, along with the First Sea Lord, would set the tone for British carrier policy.
Outside of naval aviation two new destroyer flotillas to 'replace' old tonnage, was the limit of the Royal Navy's gains under the plan. The problem for those advocating expansion was that the strength of the British fleet in comparison to it's rivals did not present the picture of a force in desperate need of more tonnage. While the Admiralty made an effort to talk up the expansion of the Japanese fleet, and it was duly noted in the plan as a potential cause for future concern, that alone was not concerning enough to justify greater expenditure. Political wisdom in London held that the naval treaties had been broadly adhered to and that the resulting status quo, while not completely ideal, did serve British interests well enough to be worth maintaining. To be blunt Diplomats were cheaper than Dreadnoughts, so if the naval treaties could be renewed, or even extended to further lower tonnage limits, this would free up valuable resources that could be spent elsewhere. The Churchill administration was pro-rearmament and would oversee a sharp increase in defence spending, but there would be no blank cheques. Taking the broad view the Royal Navy was in fairly solid shape while the other services were not, as long as that remained the case the priority for spending had to lie elsewhere.
A comparison of the world's navies in 1936, proving to many politicians that Britannia still ruled the waves. While the Admiralty attempted to point out the misleading nature of the raw numbers, for instance the USN carriers were the two 36,000t Lexingtons while the Royal Navy's figures included the questionably useful Hermes and Argus, their arguments fell on deaf ears. Aside from the question of tonange the other main oversight of such a simplistic analysis was failing to capture the ships building on the slipways or still in the design office, or in the case of the Imperial Japanese Navy, the number of 'oilers', 'tenders' and 'liners' that had been built with rapid conversion to aircraft carriers in mind and the number of 'light' cruisers capable of rapid up-gunning to heavy cruisers. Once they were accounted for the picture looked far less reassuring.
In contrast the British Army stood to gain the most under the plan, three new division were to be raised from existing cadres and territorial units, with additional brigades to be added later as funding allowed. This was expected to be a slow but steady process, the Army's territorial units had borne the brunt of government spending cuts and the General Staff did not want to further deplete the reserves by transferring their personnel en masse to the new front line units. The plan also declared that the much discussed mechanisation of the cavalry, which had technically been ongoing since the late 1920s, was to be accelerated and finally completed, though it was somewhat hazy on how this would be accomplished. While attitudes in the War Office, and indeed Parliament, and a shortage of funds from the Treasury had all delayed mechanisation, there was also the problem of technology and concerns that the available vehicles were not up to the job. To address this issue the plan made funding for additional Army research and development available, though as we shall see this merely moved the problem from Whitehall to the General Staff, removing the last excuse the Army had been using to avoid defining quite what mechanised cavalry looked like and what it was supposed to do on the battlefield.
The finalisation of the plan coincided with changes at the top of the army, Field Marshall Montgomery-Massingberd had completed his three year tour as Chief of the Imperial General Staff (CIGS) and, having not been invited to stay on for another tour, had retired at the start of the year. His replacement Sir Cyril Deverell, a choice which has generally been portrayed as significant; the reforming Deverell contrasted with the reactionary Montgomery-Massingberd, a somewhat unfair contrast as both had reforming instincts but would work under very different political circumstances. Certainly Montgomery-Massingberd was much more sympathetic to the cavalry, he had regularly expressed grave concerns about the effects on their morale of having to trade in their horses, but he had still kept the mechanisation agenda alive, even if he had failed to convince the government to provide the funds to implement it. Conversely while much was made of Deverell being the first CIGS not to have served in the Boer Wars, this was not some grand 'passing of the torch' moment, he had fought in the Anglo-Ashanti wars and had entered the service while Queen Victoria was still on the throne. While Deverell would leave his mark on the service, not least in the areas of training and staffing, his views on mechanisation were not fundamentally different from his predecessors, the difference would be that he had the resources and support to implement the plans, whereas they had not.
The insignia of one of the 'new' front line divisions, The 9th 'Scottish' Division was a Great War creation hat had been reduced to a 2nd Line Territorial Army unit post-war. The reclassification as a 1st Line Regular Division was a matter of paperwork, bringing it up to full strength, both of men and equipment, would be a far more difficult exercise. Indeed the experience would reveal to Westminster the cost of years of repressed Army spending, the Territorial units were mostly a hollow force. Away from the headline cuts in numbers there had been far more serious cuts in Territorial equipment spending, a desperate Army Board choosing to save as many Regulars as possible at the cost of the Reserves. This left many of the 2nd Line units very short of weapons and equipment, and much of what they did have being painfully obsolete. Rectifying that, while trying to mechanise and modernise the rest of the Army, would be a slow and expensive endeavour.
We come now to the Royal Air Force where we see the plan at it's most radical, or at least at it's most dramatic. The RAF would be radically restructured, not only would it lose the Fleet Air Arm (FAA) to the Admiralty, and only just retain control of the flying boat squadrons, the remaining force would be broken up and recreated as four Commands; Fighter, Bomber, Training and Coastal. These two developments, the loss of the FAA and the creation of the new Commands, are mistakenly seen as related due to the fact they occurred at the same time, in reality the timing was mostly coincidental. The re-organisation was very much the Air Staff's plan and the culmination of considerable lobbying and planning, the loss of the FAA was however imposed upon them and resisted till the end. Starting with the loss of the FAA, this was not resisted because the RAF particularly wanted to be involved in naval aviation, indeed their neglect of the subject was one of the main arguments for transferring it to the Admiralty, but because they did very strongly believe anything that flew should be their responsibility alone. This was not a view driven by noble principles on the division of duties, when the Air Ministry was made responsible for home air defence in 1925 the RAF had been more than happy to take operational control of the Army's heavy AA guns and searchlights, it was a view driven by fear. Since it's birth the RAF had viewed itself as fighting for it's existence as an independent service, this had driven it view co-operation with suspicion and to promote 'independent' missions, such as strategic bombing, that only the RAF could carry out. Given that several Great Powers, notably the US and Japan, were persevering with keeping aerial units under the control of the army and navy, the advantages of an independent air force were clearly not obvious or clear cut. Worse, from an RAF perspective, was the Treasury's habit of pointing out the large savings that could be possible by shutting down the military portion of the Air Ministry. This explained, but did not excuse, some of the attitudes of the RAF in the 20s and 30s.
Looking at the 'Command Decision', this was the arguably overdue re-organisation of the air force into several mission focused commands instead of broadly geographically based areas. The driver for this was an large expansion programme, prosaically called 'Scheme F', it should indicate how much the aerial plans were in flux that 'Scheme A' had only been adopted in 1934 yet had already been revised so many times the planners had reached the letter 'F'. Being Air Staff schemes these naturally focused on bombers, and given the view of the British government from Prime Minister Baldwin down had been 'The bomber will always get through' this had full political support. The area based organisation had struggled with the pre-expansion RAF, for instance the bomber squadrons were notionally part of 'Wessex Bombing Area' despite being scattered across airfields nationwide, so change was clearly required. The new Commands were planned with expansion in mind, to levels much beyond 'Scheme F', a sign of the Air Staff's certain (and correct) belief that Scheme F would be revised upwards again before too long.
The loss of the FAA did have one significant impact, unwilling to see their force shrink the Air Staff redirected the money that would have gone to expanding the FAA squadrons into strengthening the fighter squadrons. This did not go down well with the Admiralty, though the Air Staff were quick to point out that if the navy wanted to keep those new planes then all they had to do was pay for them out of the Naval Estimates, as the RAF was not inclined to spend the Air Estimates on someone else's planes. This seemingly reasonable point does much to demonstrate that combined arms thinking and defence co-ordination were at times very alien terms to the British defence establishment. The use of the funds for fighters would have been a surprising choice, had their been a choice. In truth the Air Ministry's assessment was that British industry couldn't take a larger order for bombers or similar large aircraft and still deliver on any sensible timescale, so if the Air Staff wanted more aircraft it was simple single engine aircraft or nothing. Painfully aware that the Treasury would reclaim anything they didn't spend, the RAF reluctantly included a significant increase in fighter strength in the final drafts of the Plan.
The prototype Hawker F.36/34 High Speed Interceptor Monoplane, eventually better known as the Hurricane, undergoing testing in late 1935. Under the revised Scheme F1 the Hurricane would fill out the ranks of the new fighter squadrons, though even the most optimistic staff plans saw biplanes remaining in service up to 1940 and beyond. The first monoplane fighter in RAF service, the Hurricane's advantage over the previous generation of biplanes was profound; compared to the best of breed Gloster Gladiator the Hurricane had twice the firepower, was faster in the climb and had a 70mph+ top speed advantage.
This choice very much reflected the priorities of the Air Staff, at the top was Bomber Command, then Training Command (because it trained the bomber crews and ground crews), then came the mess that was Fighter Command (along with the fighter squadrons this was the dumping ground for the light bombers, army co-operation squadrons, some of the trainers and various other squadrons that didn't fit anywhere else), and at the very bottom Coastal Command. This was not a reaction to the loss of the FAA, though that didn't help, just a reflection of the Air Staff's utter indifference to all matters of naval aviation. Indeed the first job of the new commander of Coastal Command, Air Marshal Philip Joubert de la Ferté, was to determine what exactly the mission of his new command was. At various points it had been naval reconnaissance, 'supporting' the fleet, trade protection and anti-submarine patrols and in trying to do everything it was effective at nothing. Solving this question would be the first step towards rehabilitating the land based naval aviation, though given the state it had fallen into there would be many, many more steps needed after that.
It is tempting therefore to say that de la Ferté had the worst senior job in the RAF, however the new head of Fighter Command, Air Marshal Hugh Dowding, would perhaps disagree. In an atmosphere where the ability of the bomber to 'always get through' was an article of faith, it was his job to try and defend against this unstoppable threat. While the fall of Baldwin and the rise of Churchill meant the political establishment was coming around to the view that aerial defences were not only possible, but vital, the Air Staff was less sure. Despite this difference of opinion the plan called for Fighter Command to update the existing air defence organisation and investigate the potential for new early warning technologies. While we will look at these new organisations and technologies in more detail later, it is important to note the increased priority given to aerial defence. While the Air Staff are caricatured as obsessive 'bomber boys', the promotion of the decidedly non-bomber boy Dowding and the willingness to look into new fighter technologies shows they were not as closed minded as they are portrayed.
Outside of organisational changes, in terms of equipment the aerial portion of the plan was relatively straightforward. The heavy bomber force was to receive the bulk of the spending and aimed to bring the Armstrong Whitworth Whitley bomber into service as a replacement for the biplane bombers then in service. Training Command would receive new aircraft as well, tenders were sent out to Avro and Airspeed for new "multi-crew" trainers to provide the air crew for the new bombers. As discussed Fighter Command would be expanded and re-equipped with new monoplane fighters along with overseeing the overhaul of the air defence organisation. Finally, and somewhat surprisingly, Coastal Command was slated to receive a new generation of land based reconnaissance aircraft. However in accordance with Air Staff practice the new aircraft would have to be either a variant of an existing design or one that could rapidly be converted to bombing or crew training use.
The 1936 Defence Plan; an ambitious but inadequately funded effort to do almost everything. Broadly speaking the plan was balanced between new units and the re-equipping and upgrading of existing ones, an attempt to both quantitatively and qualitatively improve the armed forces. Interestingly the plan devotes a large section to industrial strategy, in many areas the limitations were not so much Treasury funding as the capacity of the industrial base to deliver. Dealing with these bottlenecks would be the responsibility of the new Ministry of Production and Development.
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Butterfly Redux Notes: This freshly re-mastered chapter is about 3,500 words and just under 5 times longer than the original, yet I still think some extra notes will be educational and edifying.
Ark Royal is OTL as is the Japanese approach to carriers (half a dozen light carriers, two of the fleet carriers and all the escort carriers started life as something else). The USN approach to carriers was impressively sneaky, they pushed for the 33kt limit for 2 carriers (so they could reuse the Lexingtons) then found that wasn't enough. So they pushed for allowing 'existing' ships to be allowed 3kt of extra armour and underwater protection BUT not have that count towards tonnage limits (so a 33kt ship with 3kt of extra armour would displace 35kt but only count as a 33kt ship). Amazingly the Lexingtons came out at 36kt. Cunning, but did mean the US could never criticise anyone else for playing games with the treaties.
The French carrier design studies in OTL led to the slightly odd Joffre class that got laid down in 1938 and so ended up broken up on the slipway. Something similar may or may not emerge as France's view on the naval threat will be very different.
On the Army I think Massingberd gets a bit of a rough deal, he probably wasn't the best choice for CIGS but his hands were tied and as a proper professional solider he went along with what the politicians wanted, which was cuts and defence on the cheap. Deverell had a torrid time as CIGS in OTL, being forced out of office by the then Secretary of State for War Hore-Belisha in 1937 for objecting to government policy on tanks (the Treasury decided not to buy any and preparing the British Expeditionary Force for fighting on the continent (policy was not to do that and instead hope the issue went away). We can be sure he will not suffer that fate this time round.
The Command Decision is OTL, as is the lack of any mission for Coastal Command and treating Fighter Command as dumping ground for odd squadrons. The FAA was only moved back to the Admiralty in May 1939, but Admiral Keyes has the Prime Minister's ear and so has pushed it through early, it will undoubtedly help but will also make the RAF even more edgy and uncooperative in the short term. I was going to do a section on Air Defence of Great Britain and how that developed into the Dowding System, but frankly this was long enough and I'm still not sure who (if anyone ) will be reading this Redux Version.