The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich: A History of Nazi Germany (121 page)

No wonder that when Ribbentrop, who had quickly recovered from his indisposition, saw Attolico at 12:30
P.M
., he pointed out that the Duce’s proposal could not be “reconciled” with the Anglo–French notes of the evening before, which had “the character of an ultimatum.”

The Italian ambassador, who was as anxious as his chief to avoid a world war and certainly more sincere, interrupted Ribbentrop to say that the British and French declarations “had been superseded by the latest communication from the Duce.” Attolico, of course, had no authority whatsoever to make such a statement, which was not true, but at this late hour he probably thought he could lose nothing by being reckless. When the German Foreign Minister expressed his doubts, Attolico stuck to his view.

Ribbentrop remained skeptical. He had just discussed Mussolini’s proposal with Hitler, he said, and what the Fuehrer wanted to know was: Were the Anglo–French notes ultimata? The Foreign Minister finally agreed to Attolico’s suggestion that the Italian envoy should immediately consult Henderson and Coulondre to find out.

That was the reason for Attolico’s call at the British Embassy. “I can still see Attolico, no longer in his first youth,” Schmidt, who acted as interpreter, wrote later, “running out of Ribbentrop’s room and down the
steps to consult Henderson and Coulondre … A half hour later Attolico came running back, as breathless as he had left.”
¹⁹

Regaining his breath, the Italian ambassador reported that Henderson had just told him the British note was not an ultimatum. Ribbentrop replied that while “a German reply to the Anglo–French declarations could only be negative the Fuehrer was examining the Duce’s proposals and, if Rome confirmed that there had been no question of an ultimatum in the Anglo–French declaration, would draft an answer in a day or two.” When Attolico pressed for an earlier answer, Ribbentrop finally agreed to reply by noon the next day, Sunday, September 3.

Meantime in Rome Mussolini’s hopes were being smashed. At 2
P.M.
Ciano received the British and French ambassadors and in their presence telephoned to both Halifax and Bonnet and informed them of Attolico’s talks with the German Foreign Minister. Bonnet was effusive as usual and, according to his own account (in the
French Yellow Book
), warmly thanked Ciano for his efforts on behalf of peace. Halifax was sterner. He confirmed that the British note was not an ultimatum—one marvels at the splitting of hairs among the statesmen over a single word, for the Anglo–French declarations spoke for themselves unequivocably—but added that in his own view the British could not accept Mussolini’s proposal for a conference unless the German armies withdrew from Poland, a matter on which Bonnet again was silent. Halifax promised to telephone Ciano the decision of the British cabinet on that.

The decision came shortly after 7
P.M
. Britain accepted the Duce’s offer on condition that Hitler pull back his troops to the German frontier. The Italian Foreign Minister realized that Hitler would never accept this and that “nothing more could be done,” as he put it in his diary.

And so at 8:50
P.M
. on September 2 the weary and crushed Attolico once more made his way to the Wilhelmstrasse in Berlin. This time Ribbentrop received him in the Chancellery, where he was in conference with Hitler. A captured Foreign Office memo records the scene.

Not a word of thanks to the tireless Attolico for all his efforts! Only the contempt of silence toward an ally who was trying to cheat Germany of its Polish spoils.

The last slight possibility of averting World War II had now been exhausted. This apparently was obvious to all except one actor in the drama. At 9
P.M
. the pusillanimous Bonnet telephoned Ciano, confirmed once more that the French note to Germany did not have the “character of an ultimatum” and reiterated that the French government was prepared to wait until noon of September 3—the next day—for a German response. However, “in order for the conference to achieve favorable results,” Bonnet told Ciano, the French government agreed with the British that German troops must “evacuate” Poland. This was the first time Bonnet had mentioned this—and now only because the British had insisted upon it. Ciano replied that he did not think the Reich government would accept this condition. But Bonnet would not give up. He sought during the night a final escape from France’s obligations to the now battered and beleaguered Poland. Ciano recounts this bizarre move in the first paragraph of his diary entry for September 3.

Sunday, September 3, 1939, in Berlin was a lovely, end-of-the-summer day. The sun was shining, the air was balmy—“the sort of day,” I noted in my diary, “the Berliner loves to spend in the woods or on the lakes nearby.”

As it dawned a telegram arrived at the British Embassy from Lord Halifax for
Sir Nevile Henderson
, instructing him to seek an interview with the German Foreign Minister at 9
A.M
. and convey a communication the text of which was then given.

The Chamberlain government had reached the end of the road. Some thirty-two hours before, it had informed Hitler that unless Germany withdrew its troops from Poland, Britain would go to war. There had been no answer, and now the British government was determined to make good its word. On the previous day it had feared, as
Charles Corbin
, the French ambassador in London, had informed the hesitant Bonnet at 2:30
P.M.
, that Hitler was deliberately delaying his reply in order to grab as much Polish territory as possible, after which, having secured Danzig, the Corridor
and other areas, he might make a “magnanimous” peace proposal based on his sixteen points of August 31.
²³

To avoid that trap Halifax had proposed to the French that unless the German government gave a favorable reply within a few hours to the Anglo–French communications of September 1, the two Western nations should declare themselves at war with Germany. Following a British cabinet meeting on the afternoon of September 2, when a definite decision was made, Halifax suggested specifically that the two allies present an ultimatum to Berlin that very midnight which would expire at 6
A.M
. on September 3.
²⁴
Bonnet would not hear of any such precipitate action.

Indeed, the badly divided French cabinet had had a difficult time over the past week reaching a decision to honor France’s obligations to Poland—and to Britain—in the first place. On the dark day of August 23, overwhelmed by the news that Ribbentrop had arrived in Moscow to conclude a Nazi–Soviet nonaggression pact, Bonnet had persuaded Daladier to call a meeting of the Council of National Defense to consider what France should do.
*
Besides Premier Daladier and Bonnet, it was attended by the ministers of the three armed services, General Gamelin, the chiefs of the Navy and Air Force and four additional generals—twelve in all.

The minutes state that Daladier posed three questions:

Bonnet himself, after explaining the grave turn of events, posed a question which was to remain uppermost in his mind to the last:

When thus handed the ball, Gamelin and Admiral Darlan answered

After a great deal of talk the French finally reached a decision, which was duly recorded in the minutes of the meeting.

Having made up its mind, the French government began to act. Following this meeting on August 23, the
alerte
was sounded, which placed all frontier troops in their war stations. The next day 360,000 reservists were called up. On August 31 the cabinet published a communiqué saying France would “firmly fulfill” its obligations. And the next day, the first day of the German attack on Poland, Bonnet was persuaded by Halifax to associate France with Britain in the warning to Berlin that both countries would honor their word to their ally.

But on September 2, when the British pressed for an ultimatum to be presented to Hitler at midnight, General Gamelin and the French General Staff held back. After all, it was the French who alone would have to do the fighting if the Germans immediately attacked in the West. There would not be a single British trooper to aid them. The General Staff insisted on a further forty-eight hours in which to carry out the general mobilization unhindered.

At 6
P.M
. Halifax telephoned Sir Eric Phipps, the British ambassador in Paris: “Forty-eight hours is impossible for British Government. The French attitude is very embarrassing to H. M. Government.”

It was to become dangerously so a couple of hours later when Chamberlain rose to address a House of Commons whose majority of members, regardless
of party, was impatient at the British delay in honoring its obligations. Their patience became almost exhausted after the Prime Minister spoke. He informed the House that no reply had yet come from Berlin. Unless it did, and contained a German assurance of withdrawal from Poland, the government would “be bound to take action.” If the Germans did agree to withdraw, the British government, he said, would “be willing to regard the position as being the same as it was before the German forces crossed the Polish frontier.” In the meantime, he said, the government was in communication with France about a time limit to their warning to Germany.

After thirty-nine hours of war in Poland the House of Commons was in no mood for such dilatory tactics. A smell of Munich seemed to emanate from the government bench. “Speak for England!” cried Leopold Amery from the Conservative benches as the acting leader of the Labor Opposition, Arthur Greenwood, got up to talk.

“I wonder how long we are prepared to vacillate,” said Greenwood, “at a time when Britain and all that Britain stands for, and human civilization, are in peril … We must march with the French …”

That was the trouble. It was proving difficult at this moment to get the French to march. But so disturbed was Chamberlain at the angry mood of the House that he intervened in the sharp debate to plead that it took time to synchronize “thoughts and actions” by telephone with Paris. “I should be horrified if the House thought for one moment,” he added, “that the statement that I have made to them betrayed the slightest weakening either of this Government or of the French Government.” He said he understood the French government was “in session at this moment” and that a communication would be received from it “in the next few hours.” At any rate, he tried to assure the aroused members, “I anticipate that there is only one answer I shall be able to give the House tomorrow … and I trust the House … will believe me that I speak in complete good faith …”

The inexorable approach of the greatest ordeal in British history was announced, as Namier later wrote, “in a singularly halting manner.”

Chamberlain well understood, as the confidential British papers make clear, that he was in deep trouble with his own people and that at this critical moment for his country his own government was in danger of being overthrown.