The Day We Went to War (43 page)

Captain Hans Langsdorff, the commander of the pocket battleship
Admiral Graf
scuttling the pocket battleship “Admiral Graf Spee”. I am happy to pay with my life for any possible reflection on the honour of the flag. I shall face my fate with firm faith in the cause and the future of the nation and of my Fuehrer.’

C
HAPTER
9

The Empire at War

September–December 1939

The British Government’s pre-war policy of appeasement was partly dictated by uncertainty as to whether it would receive support from the self-governing ‘white’ Dominions in the event of war. During the Great War, they had raised nearly one and a half million men to serve overseas, a tenth of whom had died. Distinct national identities had been forged by Australians and New Zealanders at Gallipoli, and at Vimy Ridge by the Canadians. They had all gained a fierce reputation in battle among friend and foe alike.

But in the late 1930s, it was by no means certain that Australian sheep farmers or Canadian lumberjacks would go to war, ‘because of a quarrel in a far away country between people of whom we know nothing’. In the event, Hitler’s tearing-up of the Munich Agreement and his occupation of Prague did much to rally public opinion in the Dominions to Britain’s cause. There was a now-general, if reluctant, acceptance that Hitler’s aggressive designs had to be opposed and, if necessary, by force. And the vast majority of the Dominions’ populations, particularly in Australia and New Zealand, regarded Britain as their ‘mother country’. As Melbourne dress designer Patricia Penrose put it, ‘The lion has roared, the cubs are with you.’

‘We Australians have no doubt, as you have no doubt, that this war will be won and that the future of humanity will yet be made secure.’ Australian airmen arrived in Britain on Boxing Day to serve with RAF Coastal Command.

On 3 September, Australia and New Zealand declared war on Germany as soon as Britain’s declaration had been confirmed. In his radio address, Australian premier Robert Menzies, unconsciously echoing a Nazi slogan, declared, ‘there is unity in the Empire ranks – one King, one flag, one cause. We stand with Britain.’ And Labour Party leader John Curtin gave his assurance that ‘the Australian Labour Party can be relied upon to do the right thing for the defence of Australia and the integrity of the British Commonwealth of Nations’.

In New Zealand, dying Prime Minister Michael Savage announced, ‘We range ourselves without fear beside Britain.’ And in a broadcast, his deputy Peter Fraser promised New Zealand’s fullest cooperation. Already, plans were being drawn up to raise and send an expeditionary force overseas as volunteers rushed to enlist. And in London, over 600 young New Zealanders resident in Britain registered at the High Commission for military service.

In Canada, Prime Minister William Mackenzie King also spoke over the radio that Sunday. Earlier in the summer he had told Lord Maugham, the British Lord Chancellor, ‘Owing to the attitude of certain of his colleagues, it was not possible for him to make any further announcement of Canada’s attitude until war has broken out, but that Canada would be in it with us.’ Now, referring to the King’s broadcast, in which he had appealed to all his subjects to make this their own fight to destroy once and for all the doctrine that might is right, the premier declared, ‘Canada has already answered that call.’ Mackenzie King went on to tell the Canadian people that parliament was going to be recalled immediately, and that war measures were already being put into operation. ‘There is no home in Canada,’ Mackenzie King declared, ‘and no man, woman or child whose life is not bound up with this struggle.’

Four days later, in a special session of the Canadian parliament,
the Governor-General Lord Tweedsmuir, better known as novelist John Buchan, asked for the provision of war expenditure to be made. And on 10 September, there came the formal announcement that ‘His Majesty’s Dominion of Canada was in a state of war with the German Reich.’ In his war speech to parliament, Mackenzie King reminded his listeners that ‘Canada’s liberties came from those men in England and France who never hesitated to lay down their lives when their freedom was threatened.’

Just over three months later, on 17 December, the first contingent of Canadian troops arrived in Britain. They were greeted at Greenock by Dominions Secretary Anthony Eden and Canadian High Commissioner Vincent Massey. The Canadians’ arrival had been kept secret, ‘till the troops and ships were clear and safe from German bombings, and even the people of the port knew nothing’. But soon word got round that ‘the Canadians were here, cheering wildly and waving their rifles above their heads, their bugle band blowing like mad. The sailors on the little warship at the pier cheered them as they passed.’ Singing ‘Pack Up Your Troubles’, the Canadians, ‘thick-set, open-faced boys in the same battle-kit that the British Army wears’, were given a warm welcome by the VIPs and the small crowd that had assembled. As the men disembarked, their commander, Major-General Andrew McNaughton, issued a stirring order of the day in which he reminded his men: ‘The people of Canada have reposed in us their trust to defend the cause of justice and liberty against oppression and aggression.’

In the Union of South Africa, where only the white population had any say in matters, the position was not so clear-cut. There were real doubts in Pretoria and London as to whether the Dominion would go to war at Britain’s side. The large Boer, or Dutch-speaking, population remained hostile or at least antipathetic to Britain. Elements of it were highly sympathetic towards Nazi Germany and especially its racial policies. In the First World War there had been a Boer rebellion, and there were fears that this might happen again.

‘In India the present, like the last, war has found us eager and ready to play our part. Our eagerness is the greater through the justice of our cause.’ The first Indian Army contingents arrived in France to join the BEF, late December 1939.

‘The arrival of the first Canadian Division in the United Kingdom – safe and sound every one of them – can be marked up as another fine achievement by Britain’s fighting forces in this war.’ The scene at Greenock, 17 December 1939. One Canadian soldier was heard to say, ‘Mr Hitler: nuts to you.’

The Prime Minister General James Hertzog and some members of his cabinet were in favour of South Africa remaining neutral. In this, he was opposed by General Jan Smuts. Smuts had fought against the British in the Boer War of 1899–1902, but had since become a great believer in the idea and ideals of the British Empire and Commonwealth. Smuts had considerable backing in the country. Typical of that support was an editorial in the
Cape Town Independent
: ‘By proclaiming an attitude of neutrality we shall be defying the elementary fact that the liberty of South Africa is dependent on the liberty of England.’

With the support of the Labour and Dominion parties, Smuts defeated Hertzog and replaced him as prime minister. On 6 September, South Africa declared war against Germany, with Smuts stating that his country had taken ‘a stand for the defence of freedom’.

Three months later, on 2 December, the Dominion’s forces achieved a notable success. Planes of the South African Defence Force intercepted the German liner
Watussi
, which had slipped out from Lorenço Marques in neutral Portuguese East Africa (now Maputo in Mozambique) on 23 November. Ordered to heave to by the ’planes, Captain Stamer of the
Watussi
gave the order to scuttle his ship. The passengers’ quarters were set on fire, the sea cocks opened and the order to abandon ship given. Stamer later told a Reuters reporter:

‘When the aeroplane ordered me to recall the boats or take the consequences it was too late to turn back as the ship was blazing below decks. In any case, I would not turn back as I was determined that my ship should not be captured.’

Stamer, his 196 passengers and crew were picked up by the British cruiser HMS
Sussex
. He told Reuters: ‘We could not have been better treated by the Royal Navy. The captain gave me a much-needed drink and the passengers were given coffee and food. My crew also received every attention.’

Ironically enough, the planes that had intercepted the 9500-ton vessel were German-built Junkers Ju 86 airliners that had been converted over to military use.

The smaller countries of the Empire and Commonwealth all rallied around Britain. On 4 September, Queen Salote of Tonga put all her island kingdom’s resources at Britain’s disposal. The next day, the Legislative Council of Malta and the State Council of Ceylon reaffirmed their loyalty and offered wholehearted support. That same day the Bahamas declared their allegiance, while, on 6 September, the High Commissioner for Basutoland, Bechuanaland and Swaziland telegraphed to London a loyal resolution on behalf of the Swazi nations. And ‘native chiefs’ in Nigeria and North Rhodesia declared their loyalty the following week, as did British Honduras, Trinidad and Barbados.

In many of the colonies, voluntary funds, usually for the Red Cross or British war charities, were established. By the end of 1939, the Malayan Patriotic Fund had reached £100,000, including a generous donation from Singapore’s Chinese rickshaw owners. From Sierra Leone came a cheque for £758 11s 0d (£758.55p) for the Red Cross. And to celebrate the New Year, the Sultan of Lahej, in the Aden protectorate, sent 13,500 rupees as his contribution to the Empire’s war chest.

Some colonies went perhaps a little too far in their identification with the Motherland’s war effort. Major-General Charles Foulkes, Britain’s leading exponent of chemical warfare during the First World War, for example, thought it ‘an absurdity . . . that . . . in the Gambia, our West African colony . . . sacks used for packing ground nuts are being used for sand-bag protection and intensive training is being carried out in (gas) decontamination’.

But as the rest of the Empire rallied round the ‘Motherland’, it was India, ‘the jewel in the crown’, that remained the great imponderable. During the Great War, 680,000 Indians had fought overseas for Britain. Over 62,000 had died. Now, on 3 September,
the Viceroy, Lord Linlithgow announced, without consulting any of the country’s political leaders, that India was at war. And although he declared that ‘Nothing could be more significant than the unanimity of approach of all in India – princes, leaders, great political parties, the ordinary man and woman – or of their political contributions, and offers of personal service which have reached me from the princes and people of India’, the reality was somewhat different.

Gandhi acknowledged Britain’s ‘moral strength’ compared to the Nazis and denounced their aggression against Poland. But, he and the All-Indian Congress Party with its six million members still demanded India’s independence. Their cause suffered a great setback in October when the Viceroy decided to postpone any further measures towards giving India Dominion status until after the war. As a result, Congress withdrew its cooperation from the war effort. This was condemned by Moslem leaders in India and by the Government in London, where it was hinted that coercion might have to be applied.