The Day We Went to War (18 page)

Mothers with babies and children waiting to be evacuated from Victoria Station, London, 2 September 1939. Chamberlain’s Minister of Health, Walter Elliot, proclaimed that evacuation showed what a democratic nation could do.

7.30pm (8.30pm), P
ODZAMCZE
, L
ODZ
D
ISTRICT
, P
OLAND

Soldiers from the German 17th Infantry Division break into the home of wheelwright Kazimierz Hoffmann. They force Hoffmann, his wife, six children and neighbour Maria Domalga into the yard and gun them down. At the same time four other men from the town are first beaten and then bayoneted to death.

7.44pm, H
OUSE OF
C
OMMONS

The Prime Minister arrives with acting Labour leader Arthur Greenwood. Chamberlain rises to make his statement. It only lasts four minutes. Half of it is given over to the Italian conference proposal which the Cabinet discussed earlier this afternoon:

While appreciating the efforts of the Italian Government, His Majesty’s Government for their part would find it impossible to take part in a conference while Poland is being subjected to invasion . . . If the German Government should be ready to withdraw their forces then His Majesty’s Government would be willing to regard the position as the same as it was before the German forces crossed the Polish frontier. That is to say, the way would be open to discussion between the German and Polish Governments on the matters at issue between them . . .

MPs are horrified at the Prime Minister’s bland and vacillating statement. To many it smacks of another Munich. Two MPs are said to be physically sick on hearing it. Arthur Greenwood now rises
to his feet. From the Government back benches, Tory grandee Leopold Amery calls out, ‘Speak for England, Arthur!’ And rebel Conservative MP Bob Boothby also shouts out, ‘
You
speak for Britain!’ Chamberlain goes white, and at least one MP thinks that he is going to collapse. Flushed, but rising magnificently to the occasion, Greenwood tells MPs:

I am gravely disturbed . . . I wonder how long we are prepared to vacillate at a time when Britain and all that Britain stands for, and human civilization, are at peril . . . I should have preferred the Prime Minister to have been able to say tonight definitely, ‘It is either peace or war.’ Tomorrow we meet at twelve. I hope the Prime Minister then – well, he must be in a position to make some further statement. And I must point out to him, every minute’s delay now means loss of life, imperilling our national honour . . . The moment we look like weakening, at that moment dictatorship knows we are beaten. We are not beaten. We shall not be beaten. We cannot be beaten; but delay is dangerous . . .

Greenwood sits down to resounding cheers. Even Chamberlain’s most loyal supporters are cheering him. The Prime Minister looks as if he has been slapped in the face. Hore-Belisha believes that Greenwood has acted with great patriotism and statesmanship. Had he turned on the Government just now, he would undoubtedly have had Tory support. And it might have meant Chamberlain’s fall. The Prime Minister now gets up again and attempts a conciliatory speech to calm the House down. He tells MPs, ‘I should be horrified if the House thought for one moment that the statement that I have made to them betrayed the slightest weakening either of this Government or of the French Government . . .’

But this does nothing to assure the House. Hore-Belisha thinks that, on the contrary, it gives the impression that Britain is weakening in its undertaking to Poland, and that the French are ‘ratting’.
Harold Nicolson agrees and notes that Chamberlain ‘must know very well that the better-informed among us already know about Georges Bonnet. He is not telling the truth, and we know it.’ In the Press Gallery, lobby correspondent J.E. Sewell is seized by the lapels by a man he scarcely knows. In an agonised voice, the man shouts in Sewell’s face, ‘the French have ratted; it’s another sell-out!’

7.45pm (8.45pm), W
IERUSZOW, NEAR THE
G
ERMAN
-P
OLISH BORDER

In Main Street, SS men from
Leibstandarte Adolf Hitler
murder three Jews, two men and a woman – all members of the Lewi family.

8.00pm (9.00pm), F
OREIGN
M
INISTRY
, W
ARSAW

Ed Beattie and other foreign correspondents gather to hear the latest news. They are told that poisoned chocolates have been scattered from German ’planes for Polish children to pick up. There are also stories of small balloons, containing some form of poison gas, being found here and there. Beattie is sceptical, believing what is actually happening is ‘bad enough, without all the improbable fairy tales’.

8.00pm (9.00pm), O
STROWEK
, L
ODZ
D
ISTRICT

German troops begin to set fire to houses in the village. Aniela Hess and her seventy-seven-year-old father Wojciech Goralski try to escape. But he is shot and dies as he attempts to run past the burning houses. Their neighbour Michal Dulski is also murdered tonight, and so too is Anilela’s married sister Jozefa Binkowska.

8.30pm, H
OUSE OF
C
OMMONS

Ten members of Chamberlain’s cabinet meet in Chancellor Sir John Simon’s room. They are all aghast at what they have just heard in the House, and demand that the Cabinet meet again. Sir John, up till now a staunch supporter of appeasement, is deputed to see
Chamberlain. He is to tell the Prime Minister of their profound disquiet at the turn of events. Some MPs at Westminster suspect that Sir John has his eye on toppling Chamberlain with a view to replacing him as Prime Minister.

8.40pm, H
OUSE OF
C
OMMONS

Chamberlain agrees to see not just Sir John but the other cabinet ‘rebels’ as well. They file into the Prime Minister’s room where they are met by Chamberlain and his loyal supporter, air minister Sir Kingsley Wood. Simon puts their case very forcibly. He tells Chamberlain that his announcement tonight has taken them completely by surprise. It seems to be going back on what was decided in Cabinet this afternoon, the ultimatum to expire at midnight tonight, irrespective of what the French intend to do. Chamberlain tells his ministers that the problem is indeed with the French. It has proved impossible to get them to agree to synchronise their ultimatum with Britain’s. Earlier today, Paris had told London that it must have a further forty-eight hours to complete French evacuation and mobilisation processes. The Prime Minister tells his colleagues that he wants to banish the impression he has just made in the House. They tell him that a statement should be made forthwith, and not to bother about the French. Chamberlain leaves for Number 10, and the ‘rebels’ go back to Simon’s room. There they draw up a letter to the Prime Minister, summarising points made just now and send it over to Downing Street.

9.00pm, RMS
A
THLONE
C
ASTLE
, S
OUTH
A
TLANTIC

As the liner makes its way from Cape Town back to Britain, ship’s steward Paine writes up his diary entry for today: ‘We receive news that Germany are become [
sic
] more aggressive to Poland, also that England and France are still talking. Why are they hesitating? It is impossible to retract now with honour . . . As the day wears on speculation is high; it must be war, there is no alternative. We are
eagerly waiting the news on the loudspeakers at seven o’clock. The time comes, and all we hear is that the Irish Prime Minister de Valera, says “Although a lot of Irishmen sympathize with England, they have to look after their country first.” What do you expect from pigs but grunts? Why are we not getting any news? Has England already declared war? The suspense is getting worse.’

Preparations for war are already being made on the ship. The Captain asks passengers to come forward to fill sandbags. The response is good. Among the volunteers are the Cambridge University boat crew, who have been touring South Africa.

9.00pm, H
OUSE OF
C
OMMONS

Sir John Simon, Hore-Belisha and two other ‘rebels’ dine with Chamberlain supporter Sir Kingsley Wood. As the ministers eat, no further word comes from Number 10.

9.15pm, 10 D
OWNING
S
TREET

The Prime Minister ’phones Lord Halifax. The Foreign Secretary has never heard Chamberlain sound so disturbed before. Halifax joins him for dinner, and Chamberlain recounts this evening’s events and the cabinet ‘revolt’. He also tells Halifax that Churchill is getting restless. But this is hardly surprising. Chamberlain has not made any contact with Churchill since offering him a post in the War Cabinet yesterday.

9.45pm, F
RENCH
E
MBASSY
, L
ONDON

Ambassador Charles Corbin is rung up by a furious Winston Churchill. His ‘ear-splitting voice’ makes the telephone vibrate. In no uncertain terms, Churchill, who has always been a passionate Francophile, tells Corbin that, if France goes back on her word now, he will be entirely indifferent to her fate. In an effort to pacify Churchill, the ambassador starts to explain about technical difficulties. ‘Technical difficulties be damned!’ growls Churchill,
rudely interrupting. ‘I suppose you would call it a technical difficulty for a Pole if a German bomb dropped on his head.’

9.50pm, 10 D
OWNING
S
TREET

Chamberlain puts through a call to Daladier. He tells his French colleague of the angry scene in the Commons tonight. Furthermore, the Prime Minister tells Daladier, if the French persist in a time limit of forty-eight hours to run from midday tomorrow, it will be impossible for Chamberlain ‘to hold the situation here’. Daladier is still clinging to the hope that the Italian proposal for a five-power conference might yet save the peace. Moreover, he reminds the British Prime Minister, it will be France which will have to bear the immediate brunt of a German attack. Daladier tells Chamberlain, ‘Unless British bombers were ready to act at once, it would be better for France to delay, if possible, for some hours, attacks on the German armies.’ On that note the two heads of government break off the conversation.

10.00pm, H
OUSE OF
C
OMMONS

The cabinet ‘rebels’ meet again in Sir John Simon’s room. He and Lord Privy Seal Sir John Anderson decide to go to Downing Street to once again confront the Prime Minister. Hore-Belisha thinks that they should go
en masse
, but he is overruled by the others.

10.00pm, T
AKELEY

Moyra Charlton and her family listen to the news on the BBC’s new Home Service. They are not at all reassured at what they hear: ‘From Halifax’s and Chamberlain’s speeches tonight we gather that England is taking no immediate action against Germany . . . We send no ultimatum, in fact we hem and haw and talk of negotiation. Meanwhile Germany bombs Poland and hurls her man-power against Polish defences. We are mad, mad. Before we know where we are Danzig and the Corridor will be German. Hitler will declare
his objective gained and the crisis will be over, and there will be crisis on crisis again and the agony of suspense, the German faith in the Fuehrer will be forever unshakeable and no one will believe our word again . . . We can’t,
can’t
back out now.’

10.00pm (11.00pm), P
ODZAMCZE
, L
ODZ
D
ISTRICT
, P
OLAND

German soldiers arrest Mayor Tomasz Monka and two other elderly men. They are taken to a brickyard where they are beaten so savagely that Monka receives fatal injuries.

10.30pm, F
OREIGN
O
FFICE
, W
HITEHALL

Lord Halifax telephones Georges Bonnet at the Quai d’Orsay. He urges the French foreign minister that their two countries should present a united front to Hitler. Both their ambassadors in Berlin should call on von Ribbentrop at 8am tomorrow. They should tell him that if no satisfactory reply is made by midday then ‘we should be free to take action to fulfil our obligations to Poland’. But, Halifax tells Bonnet, if the French will not agree to that, then Britain will go it alone, providing that France follows suit within twenty-four hours. Bonnet is still reluctant to go ahead on such terms. He tells the Foreign Secretary that more time is needed for the evacuation of women and children from Paris. He has been to the Gare d’Orsay, where there are ‘long lines of women, with their infants in their arms’. If there is a German air raid on the French capital, Bonnet tells Halifax, there will be ‘a frightful massacre’. The two men finally agree that the British will deliver their ultimatum in Berlin at 8am, and the French theirs at midday.

10.30pm, T
RAVELLERS
C
LUB
, L
ONDON

Harold Nicolson comes out of the club to find London’s blackout is complete. Nicolson walks home, creeping carefully. Glumly, he foresees ‘that once the habit of order leaves us, there will be a recrudescence of footpads and highway robbery’.