Chapter 105, War Office, 8 December 1940
“It is a unique document, this report,” Eden muttered at nobody in particular. Around him a smug looking Butler, a weary Cadogan and Dill, and another man, a balding, very smart, stiff figure who had a military air about him (he was, in fact, in a crisp Saville Row suit) who stood superciliously behind Butler. Clutching a bundle of papers close to his chest he smiled disdainfully as the politicians began to argue around him.
“The facts are here, Anthony. Somehow, a bunch of British Army personnel are aiding the French rebels. I know this, I’ve got one of my men there!”
Cadogan raised an eyebrow. “
Your men, Foreign Secretary?”
Butler flapped a hand. “Well, one of Sir Stewart’s men. Thankfully one of our Secret Intelligence Service chaps was there to record it.”
Eden pulled out a handkerchief and with a deliberately indifferent air blew his nose. “Do we know for certain that these people who raided the French aerodrome were British?”
“The report of the French General was quite explicit, Sir. Some of the attackers were overheard shouting in English,” the supercilious figure, his face now an insincere mask of concern, smiled benignly at Eden.
The Secretary of State for War returned the smile; but Eden was well practised in the art of being charming and made a better job of it. “I merely question, Sir Stewart, whether we can trust what, in a court of law, would be a hearsay statement. Yes, they sounded English, but perhaps it was a ploy on the part of the attackers to confuse the defenders.”
“In which instance, Sir Stewart,” Cadogan said sharply, “it worked.”
Butler rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss over this. We need to brief the Prime Minister immediately.”
“What about? A rebel attack rattled a few sleepy sentries and blew up a few aircraft. Are the French or Germans asking us for a denial?”
Butler stopped, and looked sheepishly at Cadogan, who shook his head. “Not at all. At the moment the Germans, who are the people who really matter, believe that any Commonwealth subjects involved in the fighting are mercenaries. We haven’t got any official military types over there, have we Sir John?”
Dill, for whom this entire discussion was irrelevant, shook his head. “No, Sir Alec. Nothing like this has been led by us.”
“That is good news, Sir,” the suited figure commented. “I’d view any heroics such as this as being amateurish. It does nothing to aid our mission of gathering intelligence.”
To Eden’s fascination Dill completely ignored this comment. “What do the Germans believe?”
Cadogan looked at his papers. “According to Monckton in Berlin the Germans don’t believe that we would officially aid the rebels. I think the view in Berlin is that we lack ‘bottom’.”
Eden smiled, this time genuinely. “You see, Rab? They’ve called it correctly.” Butler squirmed uncomfortably.
“I’d still like to brief His Lordship about it. I accepted your request to brief him on those Polish airfields.”
Eden sighed. “Very well, gentlemen, we will debate the African situation first, get it out of the way and then move on to the report on Eastern Europe.”
The five men set off for Downing Street. They arrived just after noon, and were greeted by Cole who led them to wait in the Drawing Room. They were kept waiting for five minutes, a rare occurrence. Butler, who prided himself on his ease of access to his master, was immediately worried. But their fears were allayed when Halifax entered, wiping at his mouth with a napkin.
“Pway forgive me, gentlemen. I have decided, within the twials of Westminster, to set aside my lunchtimes for Lady Halifax. We have just enjoyed a wonderful little lunch on the floor of the Study. Vewy pleasant. Pway, which bwiefing is this?” Halifax looked very relaxed. In place of the usual furrowed brow and pursed lips there was a contented smile and a jocular air.
“My Lord,” Butler began, as technically this was his briefing, before we come to the main matter I’d like you to see this. You remember Sir Stewart Menzies of the SIS?”
Halifax inclined his head in acknowledgment. The presence of his Secretaries of State for Foreign Affairs and War, as well as the Chief of the Imperial General Staff, the senior civil servant in the Foreign Office and the Head of the Secret Intelligence Service did not bode well for the Prime Minister; but nevertheless he remained cheerful. “Sir Stewart, what do wish to weport?”
“Prime Minister, if I can show you this. I’ve flagged the relevant pages of the report.”
“And the five of you are au fait with this?” All five nodded. Halifax, immediately guessing that the five had met first (to determine their position) flicked through the pages that Menzies proffered. After a couple of minutes he handed the sheets back to Menzies and pursed his lips.
“At present, My Lord,” Cadogan began, keen to prevent Butler and Eden resurrecting their argument, “the Germans are dubious that there is any official British input into this action. There is sufficient confusion regarding the rebels’ intent and composition to assume that any Commonwealth personnel involved are driven by pay or ideology, not official Whitehall sanction.”
It was a clever brief, neatly summing up the crux of the issue. Halifax saw that Butler and Menzies disagreed, but also saw that Eden and Dill agreed with Cadogan’s view.
It therefore prevails upon me to issue the ruling. As usual I am called upon to umpire my squabbling subordinates. Halifax closed his eyes and sat quietly for a few seconds. Finally, he looked at them all in turn.
“This weminds me of the stwife in Spain. I wecall then the thousands of young Britons flocking to one of the factions. I will not waste our pwestige on this,” he said softly.
“But, with respect My Lord, a denial from us would signal our goodwill.”
“No,” Cadogan snapped, daring to disagree so publicly with his minister. “We cannot make ourselves responsible for them.”
Halifax watched them bicker. “We will not make official policy. I will write to Walter Monckton and explain our position. He will act well in our intewest. Now, what is the other matter?”
Menzies handed Halifax another folder. Again, it was carefully flagged and prepared and Halifax, who admired careful staffwork, appreciated the efforts made to ease this complex issue. Flicking through the pages he placed the folder gently on the arm of the chair. “How confident is this assessment?”
“Completely, My Lord. The conclusion made by our agent is not the only source of our belief. What they are doing is clear. The reasons for it are open to,” he paused, trying to find the right word, “interpretation.”
“How many aerodromes?”
“Twelve that we have confirmed, but goodness knows how many more.”
“Existing aerodromes?”
“Yes, and new constructions. This is not merely a routine programme of maintenance. They are building new runways in Prussia and Eastern Poland.”
Halifax closed his eyes. He looked at Butler. “Reasons?”
Butler shrugged his shoulders. “The Soviets have asked them; the Germans have repeatedly said the same thing; routine maintenance and a few new training stations.” Cadogan and Menzies nodded; they had received the same explanation.
“Genewal Dill, what purpose would extending a wunway achieve?”
Dill’s calm, measured voice spoke softly. “It would allow, Prime Minister, larger airframes to be operated from the bases. At the moment, from what Major-General Menzies’ lad has discovered, some of the Polish airstrips were built for their airforce in the twenties and operated small interceptors. If these ‘enhancements’ are completed they will be able to operate their medium bombers.”
Halifax knew immediately what this could imply. A German bombing capability over the Soviet Union that would greatly aid Germany’s cause in a war between the two neighbours. Looking again at the captured plans, Halifax saw the airfields, spread along the German/Russian border and imagined the slaughter that a war between Nazism and Communism would bring. Halifax, who actually, through his good friend Monckton had a good knowledge of life inside Germany had heard nothing that suggested a clash was imminent. The British Embassy in Moscow had been similarly upbeat in its dispatches home, reporting on improving Anglo-Soviet relations in the wake of the recent trade deal and not mentioning anything about tensions with Berlin.
Which means that the Bolsheviks may not know about this construction programme, though that is an unlikely happening.
“Do we tell the Soviettes?” This was the question that they were all dreading. Butler spoke first.
“Prime Minister, we cannot. Such a revelation would harm relations between the three countries.”
Eden snorted. “If the Russians find out about this, and then find out that we knew about this, then they will assume that we supported it. We have to tell them.”
Cadogan, visibly confused, looked unhappily at Menzies. “Would that compromise our sources?”
“It could, Sir Alec, as the Soviets may challenge the Germans. I doubt our contacts would survive a thorough investigation.”
Butler put his hands on hips and glared at Eden. Halifax and his family had recently viewed an American film, a western, one of the characters in which was an overweight sheriff. Halifax had fallen asleep halfway into the film but he remembered the way in which the sheriff had tried to intimidate the other characters. He saw that trait now in his Foreign Secretary.
“Admit it, Anthony, we’re as wary of the Russians as we are the Germans. Why should we help them?”
Eden languidly smiled at Butler. “Perhaps Sir Stewart could use other means to pass this information across.”
Halifax’s comment shot in before the others had a chance to even think of a reply. “Absolutely not. We have schemed and conspired our way awound these cwises. I will not have us embawwassed in both Germany and Wussia by our attempts to sneak awound the diplomatic etiquette that pwotects us all. Sir Stewart, this information has been excellently pwesented and I commend your work. We will continue to observe these pwojects in Eastern Europe. When we gain an insight into the weason for this programme we will put the matter formally before cabinet. Until then, gentlemen, I wish you a good afternoon.”
As the five men bowed and departed Halifax looked down at the papers spread out on his knees. A sudden pain began in his stomach. It was the usual twinge he felt when he was anxious. He had not felt it for some time, certainly not since the election, and felt deeply anxious. Something, and Halifax did not know what it was, made him feel deeply worried about this German programme. Halifax did not why, but he felt that the issue of German policy in Eastern Europe was going to cause him great concern in the coming weeks.
[Game Effect] – Two fairly big issues looked at today, though I have also tried to inject some of Halifax’s character traits into an otherwise important discussion. Whilst serving as Churchill’s Foreign Secretary in 1940, Halifax would often take lunch with his wife as a break from the strains of leading the FO through the War. Often the two would go out to a restaurant, but as the Battle of Britain wore on they increasingly picnicked on the floor of his office. The reference to the Western is true to a point – Halifax didn’t get films at all and tended to ‘drop off’, and when I read this I couldn’t resist including it in the AAR.
Cadogan’s assessment on the African situation is quite correct: as the Franco-German alliance has no evidence that the attackers were Commonwealth there is no real need for the Government to publicly do anything. But I suspect that Eden and co will be more circumspect in their covert assistance. As I said in an earlier update, the British are still learning (or relearning) lessons in secret warfare. Sir Stewart Menzies’ distaste for ‘amateur’ actions is well-documented. Always something of a political animal, such actions were quite independent from him and as such were viewed with suspicion.
So what are the naughty Germans up to in Poland? Building runways, that’s a bit odd isn’t it? I am not going to insult you with an attempt at a cliff-hanger – of course the Germans are building runways in Eastern Europe, and we all know why. This initial intelligence action, led by Menzies (more of him in a later update) and his Special Intelligence Service, shows that whilst, diplomatically at least, the British aren’t particularly confident, their intelligence agencies are still plucking away, fighting for Blighty. The moral maze that the British now face is the ‘do we tell Stalin’ debate. I actually agree that at the moment to tell Moscow would be to make the wrong move. Given the improving relations between Berlin, Moscow and London (all those nasty questions about the carve-up of Poland conveniently left unasked, but not forgotten) Halifax is playing for time; hoping that SIS come up with something more definitely anti-Russian and in the meantime using his direct line to the Berlin Embassy (remember that Walter Monckton, his close friend, is HMG’s man out there) to find out what the Germans are up to. If (and in Halifax’s mind it is an ‘if’) it becomes clear that the Germans are up to no good, he can use his intelligence at the right time and do whatever it is that ought to be done. Barbarossa, if/when (oh come on, what do you think?!) it is launched will take place without a defiant Britain fighting doggedly in the Mediterranean. In some ways Halifax is in a much more preferable position to Churchill – Britain is not at war and can act as she wishes.
Enewald: As I’ve said quite a few times, Japanis slowly crushing China.
Nathan Madien: Cheers, I’ll try to keep the action going as a counter to political intrigues.
Kurt_Steiner: Barely, but I wanted to give some hope!
- hopefully we'll be spared the horrors of some of the spy scandals after Hankey's actions whilst Home Secretary. 
