The Butterfly Effect: A British AAR

Chapter XVII: The World Watches​

International reaction to the Abyssinian War is best categorised as dynamic inaction, at least in terms of practical action or intervention in the conflict. While all the great powers, and many lesser nations, made dramatic statements of one sort or another none of the fine words led to action. Seemingly the most surprising reaction was that of the French who did not join the war in support of their nominal ally, to the relief of Italy and the resigned disappointment of Britain. While France may not have suffered the largest absolute loss of life in the Great War, her losses were the largest as a percentage of population. Such epic loss of life had naturally left a far deeper impact on France than any of the other great powers and had given rise of a far stronger and more vocal anti-war faction.

Despite that it is possible that France may have become involved were it not for the looming general election and the political situation in the government. The French Prime Minister Albert Sarraut, who had only taken power after the forced resignation of Pierre Laval following the Hoare-Laval debacle, was a politician with a label, Radicalist, but not an ideology. The Radical party had been started in 1901 as a banner to group the many centre left, anti-clerical parties into one cohesive force with the simple aim of separating church and state. Despite the relatively rapid achievement of this aim the party continued on, remaining one of the dominant political forces in France and generally staying as the largest single party in the parliament. While the party had power, what they lacked was any guiding ideals or grand vision for France, this strategic inertia goes some way to explaining their tendency to group with left leaning parties for elections, but to drift into right leaning governments as parliaments wore on.


Into this predictable, if unusual, pattern of party behaviour was thrown the Popular Front, the electoral alliance between the Socialist and Communists which had been arranged following the anti-parliamentary riots of February 1934. Such a grouping could threaten the Radicalists position as the largest party or be a springboard for Sarraut to return to power on a permanent basis not as a stand in. With the well known anti-war feelings in both the socialist, but more strongly the communist, parties leading France into a war would not auger well for any negotiations about Radicalist entry to the Popular Front. Equally while Laval's appeasement had been unpopular Sarraut was certain that a war with Italy would be disliked even more, threatening his party’s chances in the election regardless of who he allied with. Such realpolitik calculations do seem short-sighted and unedifying, but were a regrettably common part of French Third Republic politics.

The final result was that despite the commitments of the Entene Cordiale and the long running rivalry with Italy over control and influence in the Mediterranean the French government did not enter the war against Italy. The actual conflict itself was perversely popular in France, getting the British to deal with the threat posed by Italy in general, and her fleet in particular, was considered a dream come true for many.

This attitude was mirrored across Greece and the Balkans, government throughout the region had nervously wondering what "Il Duce Dottrina" meant for them. If the Mediterranean was to become an Italian lake what did that mean for them and their future relationship with Italy? Considered wisdom in the region was that whatever the outcome of the Abyssinian War Italy would be in no position to try and exert herself for many years, while should she be defeated the spectre of Italian domination would be banished. While this tantalising vision pushed many of the nations into a nominal pro-British stance, none were prepared to actually intervene and risk the possibility of Il Duce's displeasure in the post-war period.

The Iberian Peninsula was one of the few places around the Mediterranean where the war was not the dominant issue, the political scene instead being monopolised by the Spanish elections and the victory for the Manuel Azaña's Popular Front. A broad based alliance of communist, socialist and republicans the Frente Popular was based on the French model and could count on the support of the nationalist independence movements and the Anarchist trade unions. This victory caused great unease across Europe and utterly dominated Spanish public attention, although it is unlikely Spain would have chosen, or indeed been able to, take an active role in the conflict.


Moving north the war was surprisingly closely followed in Scandinavia, certainly over and above the levels of interest displayed in other parts of Europe not directly affected. The events surrounding the aborted Anglo-German Naval Agreement had shaken leading figures in the governments of all Baltic governments, the fact that Germany wanted to expand her fleet and had been seeking to bar the Royal Navy from the Baltic was particularly worrying. "Why?" was the question buzzing around Oslo, Helsinki and Stockholm and the only answers that made sense were not reassuring. Germany had no overseas empire and her merchant marine was barely worthy of the name so, the reasoning went, the only purpose of a rebuilt fleet could be for power projection, not colonial defence or protecting shipping lines. Combined with the bare fact that without the Royal Navy there was no force in the Baltic capable of challenging the Germans for naval supremacy and the conclusions were enough to make the Scandinavians nervous.

While hindsight tells us that Hitler's territorial ambitions did not lie to the North that was far from certain at the time. The governments had also had a sharp reminder of the key problem with neutrality; your country stood alone. While this meant you would not be dragged into the wars of others, it also meant you could call on nobody for your own defence. A Norwegian paper had caused minor panic in the country by a comparison between their country and Abyssinia, noting that both were neutral, so had no allies to call on, lacked a modern army and were in a region a great power considered it's sphere of influence. The article concluded with the chilling question what if a foreign power, never named but clearly Germany, did invade would anyone come to the aid of Norway? Similar questions were asked across Scandinavia, whereas before the Abyssinia Crisis had been seen as a regrettable but distant problem people began to ask if it was not instead a warning of things to come. There were even those suggesting a permanent alliance with a great power should be sought, while such voices were still isolated they were gaining both confidence and support.

Although Italy had only declared war on Britain, the Dominions had all immediately declared war on Italy, all bar Ireland and South Africa. While the Irish declaration of neutrality was expected, it was the South African Prime Minister James Hertzog's reaction that caused consternation throughout Westminster. Instead of a declaration of war and statement of support Hertzog insisted on a full debate and vote on the matter, indeed it is said he privately argued for neutrality from what he called 'A British conflict'. That this caused such consternation reflects the strange double standard of British Dominion policy at the time; while it was accepted that independent foreign policy meant the Dominions would not have to join in a war Britain started, it was expected that these same nations would instantly join a conflict if Britain was attacked.


The South Africa reticent was not reflected across the other Dominions but the governments did have their concerns. In particular the governments of Australia and New Zealand, although joining the war the same day Italy declared, were decidedly worried about the reduction in Britain's presence east of Suez. Reassurances that a decisive defeat of Italy would enable a post-war increase in the Royal Navy in the Pacific by transferring Mediterranean fleet assets only partially assayed such concerns. In Canada the war was accepted as necessary, indeed important, the continued implosion of the US economy had left Canada almost completely dependent on her trade links with Britain and the rest of the Empire. This heightened dependence meant a British controlled Suez was far more important to the Canadian economy and therefore government, there was also a realisation that an increase in British military spending could only be good for the British economy and so good for Canada.

The British North African campaign begun in earnest with Operation Vulcan a simple but ambitious operation aimed at driving the Italians back across the border, then driving on to capture Tobruk. Given the Italian superiority in numbers this was no small task, but the dissent over the ambitious objectives was as nothing compared to the arguments over the proposed means of achieving them.

As the name suggests, Vulcan being the Roman god of blacksmiths and the forge, the plan was to trap the main units of the Italian 10th Army between an advancing hammer force and a dug in anvil forcing it to surrender or be destroyed. The hammer would come in two parts, the larger consisting of III and IV Corps under Alexander would advance through Solum and then carry on across the border while Alanbrooke's II (Middle East) Corps advanced on a more south-westerly axis towards Siwa and Rabia before heading towards Fort Capuzzo. The highly controversial anvil force was to be the two divisions and supporting units of the BEF who were to capture Tobruk harbour in an amphibious landing. With Tobruk captured the BEF, with Royal Navy fire support, was then to hold until Alexander's forces could drive through and relieve them.


It has been argued by many that the originator of Operation Vulcan was Churchill and not the Imperial General Staff. The proponents of this view point to the similarities with the Dardenelles, another Churchill championed operation, and the daring and ambitious scope of the scheme which is supposedly beyond anything the British Army would choose to do. While it is unarguable that the Prime Minister was an enthusiastic supporter of the scheme it would be unfair to bestow on him the credit for the operation at the expense of others.

It is undoubtedly true the British Army had it's fair share, arguably perhaps more than it's fare share, of dogmatic and change resistant Great War veterans but to categorise all senior British officers of the era in such a way is unfair and misleading. The so called 'Old Guard' elements had been decisively put in their place during the great cavalry mechanisation debates of the early thirties where they had tried to retain a role for mounted units. The decision to mechanise the entire army, including the cavalry, had left nobody in any doubt as to where the future for the British Army lay and the appointment of Deverell and Gort to CIGS and head of the War College respectively only confirmed an existing trend.

Although categorised as forward looking in many ways the new high command could be called the 'Old Old Guard' making their aim a return to many of the pre-Trench warfare ideas but fully utilising modern technology. Chief among these were intensive unit specific training, mobile warfare and, most importantly but also most controversially, amphibious landings. Such operations had been heavily discredited after the failure at Gallipoli but had a long history of success prior to the Great War, it was this proud tradition Gort and Deverell hoped to re-establish.

Early in the planning stage it became apparent that there would be a shortage of battleships support for the operation. The big guns of the fleet had to remain around Taranto to contain the Regia Marina and could not be released support the operation, thus the burden of fire support would have to left to the battlecruisers of Force H, a less than ideal situation all agreed. To compensate for this deficiency the Commander in Chief Mediterranean, Admiral Cunningham, ordered the carriers of Force R and Force B to be put at the disposal of the operation. For Cunningham this was not as big a sacrifice as it appears, the age and weakness of the Fleet Air Arm's aircraft at the time was such they would not survive long in the face of determined anti-aircraft fire or against hostile fighter cover. Therefore he had been using them mainly for convoy raiding at which they had been far more successful, so much so the Regia Marina had all but stopped it's efforts to send convoys to North Africa so heavy were their losses. With their main job complete Cunningham had no particular use for his carrier beyond reconnaissance and even then he knew the bulk of the Italian fleet was still in Taranto harbour.


Given theses circumstances it is easy to see why Cunningham was happy to give his men a chance to be involved in a major operation rather than just patrolling for convoys which probably weren't there. It was also hoped by the Admiralty that the operation would provide a blooding for the new Swordfishes that were replacing the Seals in the bombing and reconnaissance role, as well as providing a torpedo launch capability that the Seals lacked. As only squadron, No.825 operating off HMS Eagle, had been equipped with this new aircraft, the aircraft had yet to be proved and Vulcan seemed to provide the perfect opportunity for an operational evaluation far from hostile fighters.

Up next: Will the plan survive contact with the enemy? How goes the continuing war at sea? One of these questions will be answered. Hopefully the first one.