Chapter 112
Chapter 112
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 112
Chapter Title: World War II - Darkest Hour (5)
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June 26, 1940
Paris, the ‘City of Light,’ capital of France
[France’s Greatest Victory! Surpassing Napoleon!]
[France Delivers Justice to the Vile Traitors Who Betrayed the Alliance!]
Newspapers bearing all manner of sensational headlines flew through the streets of Paris. When war with Britain was first declared, the atmosphere within France had been one of utter chaos.
But when news of the victory in the English Channel battle spread in just a single day, followed by the successful landing of French troops on the coast east of Portsmouth, public opinion was completely reversed.
The next day, when aerial photographs of the shattered remains of HMS Victory and images of Portsmouth Harbor flying the French flag were circulated, all of France erupted in fervor.
The voices that had demanded an explanation from Prime Minister La Rocque just the day before were drowned out by praise for the man who had brought a great victory to France.
For the French people, who had suffered repeated diplomatic defeats at the hands of Germany while being ignored by Britain, the sinking of the *Victory* and the Royal Navy’s Channel Fleet, along with a landing on the British Isles—something not even Napoleon had achieved—held that much symbolic power.
Of course, this reaction was based on the boundless optimism that a ‘Britain without a navy’ would be no match for the ‘Grande Armée.’
There were some voices of concern that Germany might enter the war due to the excessively treacherous opening of hostilities and the alliance with Italy, but they wielded less influence than a whisper amidst the nationalistic fervor and the suppression by the Socialist government.
But La Rocque himself was far from at ease.
“Dammit all, why haven’t the Italians attacked Malta and Alexandria!”
“Well, sir, they detected signs of an imminent German army offensive and had to redirect their air force for homeland defense. The Italian Navy then refused to attack without air support and has stayed put...”
“Those bloody morons! What in the world is that Duce fellow even doing!”
According to La Rocque’s original plan, the moment France struck the British mainland, Italy was supposed to declare war simultaneously, launching air and naval strikes on Alexandria and Malta to inflict damage.
“And that goddamned pig Franco still hasn’t even declared war!”
Spain was supposed to have attacked Gibraltar. Not a single part of La Rocque’s plan had gone as intended.
Only after confirming the annihilation of the British Channel Fleet and the landing of the French Army on the British Isles did Italy belatedly declare war on Britain. By then, the British Mediterranean Fleet, with its one aircraft carrier and three battleships, was already on maximum alert.
La Rocque’s plan to inflict maximum damage on the Royal Navy with a surprise attack and then join forces with the Italian Navy to keep the remaining British fleet in check was now completely out the window.
“It was my mistake for trusting those damned Italians!”
Although they had successfully struck the main British fleet at Scapa Flow, in the end, only two old Revenge-class battleships had been completely sunk there.
The other ships could be repaired, though it would take time, and some could sortie immediately once the mines were cleared.
Moreover, the French submarine fleet, which had hastily withdrawn after its surprise dawn raid and mine-laying operation using only submarines, had failed to accurately assess the damage they had inflicted on the British fleet at Scapa Flow.
They had only managed a one-time surprise attack with modified oxygen torpedoes that could be used by French submarines; the French submarine force had not developed a proper doctrine like Germany’s.
“And what the hell is our navy doing! Did they really have to lose all those transport ships just because we used them as bait? We had over one-and-a-half times their naval strength and a nine-to-two advantage in battleships! We had air superiority too! And they couldn't stop them, taking massive damage and losing that many transports!”
The damage to the French fleet was immense, but the loss of a large number of transport ships was a particularly painful blow.
La Rocque had taken a gamble by throwing the transports in as bait, but he certainly hadn't expected to lose nearly all of them.
Unlike the Dunkirk evacuation in the original history, which managed to ferry just the soldiers using civilian vessels, proper transport ships were essential for moving military supplies and heavy equipment. He would never have used them all as a sacrificial gambit.
“Dammit, do they think transport ships fall from the sky!”
But the Royal Navy and the RAF, despite being overwhelmingly outnumbered, had fought tenaciously and inflicted enormous damage on the bait convoy protected by the French Navy before being gloriously annihilated.
“Do they think it’s over just because we’ve landed! How are we going to import oil now, and how are we going to supply the landing forces!”
“Ahem. While the Prime Minister’s strategy was excellent, the naval command did express clear concerns about using transport ships as bait. The fact that such losses were a possibility—”
“Then did you have another brilliant plan to annihilate the Channel Fleet and secure a landing in the short window of air superiority we had?”
Admiral Darlan fell silent, his face etched with displeasure. Even if they had damaged the airbases in southern England, they would have been repaired enough to be used as landing and takeoff strips within a day.
To capitalize on that fleeting moment of air superiority and force a landing, France had taken on a considerable burden.
From what had transpired, it might seem as though Britain was on the brink of ruin, but in the end, the Home Fleet at Scapa Flow was not completely destroyed, nor had Britain surrendered.
The unexpected loss of so many transport ships had forced them to reduce the number of landing sites, and even then, the advance force had suffered considerable casualties while landing and capturing Portsmouth.
The surprise and the gamble had worked, and they had managed to land, but the war with Britain was only just beginning.
And yet, his so-called ally Italy was too busy defending its own homeland to carry out its promised attack on the Mediterranean Fleet, while Spain was still testing the waters.
To keep Germany in check, La Rocque had sent a secret envoy to the Soviet Union, stressing cooperation against Germany and requesting Soviet military action to coincide with his operation. To counter the unknown movements of the British Far East Fleet and the United States, he had even brought in the powerful naval nation of Imperial Japan, offering docking rights in Indochina, rubber, and British Malaya as incentives.
He had thought it couldn't be more thorough, but in the end, only about half of his plans had come to fruition.
“Those damned Italians! They insisted on sending their army, and now they can’t even do their own job properly!”
And that other half was a variable sufficient to decide the fate of France. La Rocque felt his blood run cold.
“Damn it all. Our only hope is that General de Gaulle can quickly capture London and force them to surrender.”
At the very least, Halifax had undone the British Army’s rearmament, which had been proceeding vigorously until the invasion of Poland. And in any case, France’s surprise attack and landing had been a success.
La Rocque hoped that once London fell, the chaotic British government would quickly surrender.
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June 26, 1940
London, Capital of Britain – Palace of Westminster
“Order, order!”
The Speaker’s desperate cries of ‘order!’ had little effect.
The British House of Commons was a chaotic mess, an uproar that could be described as one of the most intense in its history.
The fact that the pride of Britain, the Royal Navy, had suffered such a massive blow without being able to mount a proper response left a devastating scar on the British Empire’s pride.
Moreover, the fact that French forces had been allowed to land on the British Isles, even after the Channel Fleet had thrown itself into the fray in a suicidal charge, instilled a sense of crisis that this was no longer a matter of national pride, but of survival.
The straight-line distance from French-occupied Portsmouth to London was less than 90 kilometers.
In Britain, where they had not yet realized that France had used empty transport ships as bait, some MPs even disparaged the Channel Fleet’s heroic sacrifice as a meaningless death that had achieved nothing.
“Mr. Speaker, and Members of the House. Our nation faces a graver crisis than ever before!”
The leader of the Labour Party, Clement Attlee, was raising his voice to be heard above the chaos and shouting.
“While this grave crisis approached, the Prime Minister of the proud British Empire, despite so much opposition, pushed for disarmament and chased the illusion of ‘peace for our time.’”
Halifax listened to Attlee’s accusations with a hardened face and closed eyes, as did Chamberlain, whose complexion was nearly that of a corpse.
“In the history of the British Empire, June 24, 1940, will be remembered as the day our once-ally, France, despicably betrayed us! And also!”
Attlee pointed a finger at Halifax and shouted.
“As the day the Prime Minister, who should have led his country with the utmost fortitude, miserably betrayed that expectation and stood by as his country fell into crisis!”
The reaction was explosive, dividing the chamber between Conservative MPs who condemned Attlee and opposition members who supported him.
“Nonsense!”
“Betrayal? Watch your words!”
“What part of that is wrong!”
But even among the Conservative MPs, not a few turned their backs on Halifax.
“Gentlemen, who are charged with the duty of guiding our nation on the right path. Shamefully, this may be the last session of the House of Commons in Westminster. In this time of crisis, we propose that we forget our past conflicts for the good of the nation and form a national unity government for the war.”
Attlee, having proposed a war cabinet, glared at the silently seated Halifax before shouting vehemently again.
“But I declare! If we are to form a national unity government for our country, it will be under a different Prime Minister than you. If you have any sense of decency or shame, resign for the sake of your country!”
Halifax remained silent, his face set like stone, his lips pressed firmly together.
-
June 27, 1940
London, Capital of Britain – Buckingham Palace
As the old, portly ‘English Bulldog,’ Winston Churchill, walked down a corridor in Buckingham Palace, he came across a familiar face.
“Prime Minister Halifax.”
“*Former* Prime Minister. Churchill... Prime Minister.”
At Halifax’s words, Churchill replied with his characteristic sullen expression.
“Not yet. Not until His Majesty appoints me.”
A brief silence fell between the two men.
“...As you said, the war was interested in us.”
Halifax looked as if he had aged ten years.
The French army, having captured Portsmouth, was now engaging General Alan Brooke’s Southern Command in its advance toward London. The Far East Fleet and British Malaya were under attack by the Empire of Japan, and the Mediterranean Fleet was tied down, facing off against Italy.
He had wanted peace rather than sacrificing his people in a European war, and he had sought to protect the Commonwealth, but he had lost both.
Churchill watched Halifax without saying anything of note. Halifax had so much he wanted to say, but the words would not leave his mouth.
“...I am ashamed to leave you with such a heavy burden.”
With that one remark, Halifax passed by Churchill. Following an attendant, Churchill walked down the corridors of Buckingham Palace, which were dim and sunless due to the characteristic London fog.
As he walked through the dark building, illuminated only by the light of standing lamps, he thought it was much like the situation he and Britain now faced.
At the end of the corridor, Churchill finally came face to face with a man in a naval uniform.
“Your Majesty.”
“Mr. Churchill.”
The gaze of Britain’s king, George VI, was not particularly warm.
Winston Churchill was one of the men who had supported his brother, Edward VIII, and his marriage to the very end before his disgraceful abdication. He had also made many blunders, including Gallipoli.
But in the British Empire’s darkest hour, no Conservative MP wanted to take on the premiership, a position that might be saddled with the blame for defeat.
Moreover, Churchill, who had advocated for intervention alongside the Labour Party while the rest of the Conservatives supported Chamberlain and Halifax, was the only Conservative who had the backing of the opposition. In the end, he was chosen to lead the national war cabinet.
“As King, it is my duty to appoint you Prime Minister of the British Empire. Do you accept this and agree to form a government?”
“I do, Your Majesty.”
Churchill approached the King and kissed the back of his hand, completing the formal procedure.
George VI watched Churchill for a moment before speaking.
“Well then, Prime Minister. The former Prime Minister advised evacuating the government from London to Manchester and recommended that I and the Royal Family retreat to Canada.”
Suppressing what felt like an impending sigh, George VI asked Churchill.
“What is your plan?”
“My plan is to fight on, Your Majesty. I will not retreat a single inch from here, where the citizens of London are, and I will remain so until the moment we drive the Frenchmen who betrayed our long-standing alliance from the British Isles.”
George VI looked at Churchill in silence.
“Is that possible? Is it not reckless? What can you do to fight on, Prime Minister?”
“I have nothing to offer but my blood, toil, and sweat, Your Majesty.”
George VI did not speak at Churchill’s words. Churchill lifted his blazing eyes to meet the King’s.
“No army will risk its life for a government that runs in fear before the battle is even fought. For us to abandon London would be no different from announcing that we will lose this war. To gain the help of the Commonwealth, the United States, and... Germany, we must not show any sign of wavering.”
George VI looked at Churchill for a long moment, then slowly closed and opened his eyes.
The man who was once timid and stuttered.
The King who had broken down in tears before his mother under the pressure of a throne he never wanted. Now, his eyes held a powerful resolve.
“...Let us see you do it, Prime Minister. If you will defend London, then I will defend Buckingham Palace.”
Britain’s resistance had only just begun.