Feel the Bearn - A Timeline of France's Only Carrier in WWII and Beyond
- Thread starter Seafort
- Start date
yeah Hmmmmm either he drank if first without knowing who it came from or he decided to drink it on a special occasion thanks to the surrender of Germany and then got addicted to the unimaginable things put into the drink...
Well, he should have an inkling, but Chuchill *Loved* him some Ararat brandy. to the point that he was going through 400 bottles a year supposedly. I presume he shared some of that.
Who are the good guys and who are the bad guys again....
Everyone is playing to type, with the exception of Winston Churchill and (perhaps) Colin Gubbins. The circumstances have changed wildly for each individual though, introducing new challenges, stresses, and opportunities.
I wonder if we’re going to find out that Churchill has a brain tumor or something.
Churchill was sent a box containing 12 bottles each month by Stalin in OTL, per Winston's daughter Sara. Gubbins is essentially Winston's right hand man at this point, so I am presuming he's willing to share a little.
Chapter 7 - Haman
June 15, 1945 (2:00 PM EST)
"Now is your opportunity at redemption, Major-General," said Winston Churchill. The Prime Minister circled the table in the office in his underground bunker. Winston sat down into his chair, a glass of brandy swirling in the glass that he held in one hand.
Major-General Colin Gubbins' face reddened, but he otherwise betrayed no reaction. Inwardly he wished that he had with him the same weapon that he had displayed to Mr. Fleming the day prior. He would have had the option of sending the dark cherub in front of him to his just rewards should he so have chosen. Perhaps that was an operation for the future. But not tonight. Instead, he listened as Churchill drunkenly prattled on. The Prime Minister appeared calm at the moment, but word of his increasingly volatile fits of rage had spread throughout the bunker complex and into the ears of the SOE. Not that Gubbins needed those reports, he had witnessed Winston's irrationality first hand. The Major-General presumed it was the stresses of the war coupled with the highly risky nature of the undertaking that both men had begun. Indeed, Gubbins increasingly felt prone to anger himself. However he consoled himself with the thought that he was a man of higher discipline and that --
"Are you paying attention to me?" asked Churchill as he slammed his glass down on the table.
"Of course, Prime Minister," replied Gubbins, doing his best not to appear startled. Winston glowered at him, his face reddening. But just as quickly, the storm passed. He smiled warmly.
"Our failures do not have to be final," assured the Prime Minister. "We often stumble from failure to failure on the pathway to success. But here, with the fate of the English people riding upon our shoulders we must ensure that failure does not come upon us again."
Churchill poured a glass of Ararat brandy and handed it to Gubbins.
"It won't. The next phase is set," replied the head of the SOE. "Haman is ready."
June 15, 1945 (7:18 PM EST)
A thick cloud cover cast the forest in near darkness. Visibility was nearly nill, and for the three men crouched in the underbrush the conditions were perfect. There was a soft pattering nearby, and that remained the only sound. The men were silent, each observing the source of the noise and taking no action.
Private Fred Clements leaned against trunk of the spruce tree and continued to relieve himself. The war had now been over for over a month, and yet he still had trouble adjusting to the quiet. Gone were the cracks of gunfire and the sounds of distant explosions. Those sounds had been replaced by the quiet of the forest, with the occasional interruption of an owl or some other animal scurrying about. Not that there were many of them left at this point, but they were still out there.
He finished, zipped up, and then shivered. The temperature had fallen into the upper 60s, and for a man who had been raised just outside of San Antonio, Texas he found it reminiscent to late fall, not the boiling summertime heat that he was accustomed to. While others in his unit might complain about the temperature, he found the lack of heat refreshing. Clements turned and headed back towards his unit. They had been assigned to a 240mm M1 howitzer emplacement shortly before the war in Europe had ended, and now weeks later he and his friends still found themselves guarding the massive Black Dragon. Any day they had all expected for the gun to be relocated and for themselves to be reassigned. Possibly to the Pacific, as the war with Japan continued onward.
The three men in the woods watched Clements walk back towards the howitzer. Beyond, far in the distance, the still functioning city lights within Frankfurt were visible.
"Now is your opportunity at redemption, Major-General," said Winston Churchill. The Prime Minister circled the table in the office in his underground bunker. Winston sat down into his chair, a glass of brandy swirling in the glass that he held in one hand.
Major-General Colin Gubbins' face reddened, but he otherwise betrayed no reaction. Inwardly he wished that he had with him the same weapon that he had displayed to Mr. Fleming the day prior. He would have had the option of sending the dark cherub in front of him to his just rewards should he so have chosen. Perhaps that was an operation for the future. But not tonight. Instead, he listened as Churchill drunkenly prattled on. The Prime Minister appeared calm at the moment, but word of his increasingly volatile fits of rage had spread throughout the bunker complex and into the ears of the SOE. Not that Gubbins needed those reports, he had witnessed Winston's irrationality first hand. The Major-General presumed it was the stresses of the war coupled with the highly risky nature of the undertaking that both men had begun. Indeed, Gubbins increasingly felt prone to anger himself. However he consoled himself with the thought that he was a man of higher discipline and that --
"Are you paying attention to me?" asked Churchill as he slammed his glass down on the table.
"Of course, Prime Minister," replied Gubbins, doing his best not to appear startled. Winston glowered at him, his face reddening. But just as quickly, the storm passed. He smiled warmly.
"Our failures do not have to be final," assured the Prime Minister. "We often stumble from failure to failure on the pathway to success. But here, with the fate of the English people riding upon our shoulders we must ensure that failure does not come upon us again."
Churchill poured a glass of Ararat brandy and handed it to Gubbins.
"It won't. The next phase is set," replied the head of the SOE. "Haman is ready."
June 15, 1945 (7:18 PM EST)
A thick cloud cover cast the forest in near darkness. Visibility was nearly nill, and for the three men crouched in the underbrush the conditions were perfect. There was a soft pattering nearby, and that remained the only sound. The men were silent, each observing the source of the noise and taking no action.
Private Fred Clements leaned against trunk of the spruce tree and continued to relieve himself. The war had now been over for over a month, and yet he still had trouble adjusting to the quiet. Gone were the cracks of gunfire and the sounds of distant explosions. Those sounds had been replaced by the quiet of the forest, with the occasional interruption of an owl or some other animal scurrying about. Not that there were many of them left at this point, but they were still out there.
He finished, zipped up, and then shivered. The temperature had fallen into the upper 60s, and for a man who had been raised just outside of San Antonio, Texas he found it reminiscent to late fall, not the boiling summertime heat that he was accustomed to. While others in his unit might complain about the temperature, he found the lack of heat refreshing. Clements turned and headed back towards his unit. They had been assigned to a 240mm M1 howitzer emplacement shortly before the war in Europe had ended, and now weeks later he and his friends still found themselves guarding the massive Black Dragon. Any day they had all expected for the gun to be relocated and for themselves to be reassigned. Possibly to the Pacific, as the war with Japan continued onward.
The three men in the woods watched Clements walk back towards the howitzer. Beyond, far in the distance, the still functioning city lights within Frankfurt were visible.
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Chapter 7 - Haman
June 16th, 1945 12:51AM EST
Ellen Wilkeson shivered. It was unseasonably cold in the early morning, and there was little heat within the cell. Not that she was in a conventional prison, but rather she had become the latest person to be held within the Tower of London. The ancient fortress had been used for storage between the wars, and had been pressed back into service to house Rudolf Hess and Josef Jakobs. And now once again it was more than a mere tourist attraction, now containing new guests.
The Jarrow MP and Chairman of the Labour Party bunched her knees up against her chest, trying to stay warm. It was difficult, as both her wrists and ankles were in manacles. Former Chairman, she reminded herself. Ernest Bevins had led the effort to strip her of her title, and indeed her membership. The rump Labour Party had voted to expel her and the other arrested conspirators yesterday. The fact that the vote had not been unanimous gave her some measure of solace. At least there were some who still believed in her.
From outside the cell door Ellen heard howling. It was Herbert Morrison, the other prisoner. Both had been brought to the Tower to great media attention two days earlier, and it was there she saw his condition. Morrison's face was badly bruised, and his arm was in a sling. Whatever her discomfort now, she knew that the Deputy Leader of the Labour Party was in considerably direr circumstances. Former Deputy Leader, she thought again, this time with a grimace. They were both now without a party, and seemingly without hope as they stood accused of treason.
Ellen Wilkeson shivered. It was unseasonably cold in the early morning, and there was little heat within the cell. Not that she was in a conventional prison, but rather she had become the latest person to be held within the Tower of London. The ancient fortress had been used for storage between the wars, and had been pressed back into service to house Rudolf Hess and Josef Jakobs. And now once again it was more than a mere tourist attraction, now containing new guests.
The Jarrow MP and Chairman of the Labour Party bunched her knees up against her chest, trying to stay warm. It was difficult, as both her wrists and ankles were in manacles. Former Chairman, she reminded herself. Ernest Bevins had led the effort to strip her of her title, and indeed her membership. The rump Labour Party had voted to expel her and the other arrested conspirators yesterday. The fact that the vote had not been unanimous gave her some measure of solace. At least there were some who still believed in her.
From outside the cell door Ellen heard howling. It was Herbert Morrison, the other prisoner. Both had been brought to the Tower to great media attention two days earlier, and it was there she saw his condition. Morrison's face was badly bruised, and his arm was in a sling. Whatever her discomfort now, she knew that the Deputy Leader of the Labour Party was in considerably direr circumstances. Former Deputy Leader, she thought again, this time with a grimace. They were both now without a party, and seemingly without hope as they stood accused of treason.
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Chapter 7 - Haman
June 16, 1945 12:53AM EST
Fred Clements rested, his back against a spruce tree. The Black Dragon stood in the distance, as men continued to work upon the massive howitzer. The sun was beginning to rise, its light gradually washing over the American private's face. Yet he remained still, unblinking as the sun rose over Germany. And he would not blink.
Meanwhile the work proceeded on the 240mm M1 cannon, but it was driven by the three men from the forest, who silently labored and ignored the bodies of the now deceased American detachment.
June 16, 1945 2:00AM EST
Henry Morgenthau felt far better today. Between the horrid flight into England and his disturbing meeting with the British Prime Minister, he thought that it might be difficult to sleep. And while the Secretary of the Treasury had only rested for seven hours at the American embassy, a good night's rest and a proper breakfast had done wonders for his mind and spirit. Although he easily could have had the Sunday Times reporter come to the embassy for the requested interview, Henry thought it would be good to get a proper assessment of the spirit and state of the English. As unusual as Churchill seemed to be, the Treasury Secretary thought, he could hardly be faulted for being rattled. Winston had survived not only an attempted assassination, but an actual coup had been attempted in league with German fanatics. Morgenthau in one sense could hardly believe it, but it also reaffirmed the purpose of his visit. If the Prime Minister would not listen to what he had to say, then perhaps the British people would.
Ian Fleming extended a hand, which Morgenthau clasped.
"Thank you for coming in, Mr. Secretary," Fleming said.
"It is indeed all mine," replied Morgenthau. They both sat down in the conference room at the Times building that Fleming had reserved for the interview.
"So what have you come to England for, Mr. Secretary?" asked Fleming. He took out a pen and prepared to write on the pad before him.
"To tell the British people about the same problem that I have discussed with your Prime Minister," replied Morgenthau. "The same problem that every Allied nation has faced in this decade. The problem that refuses to go away, and now has threatened to topple the British government. However it is not just your problem now. Germany is our problem."
June 16, 1945 2:02AM EST
The General rubbed his eyes as he stared out his window at the forest below. The morning sunlight made the wrinkles in his face even deeper. He had slept horribly the previous night, his thoughts keeping him from rest. Part of him wanted to be angry with President Truman. He had been scheduled to return to the United States and give an address to a joint session of Congress in two days. Not that he was looking forward to that, rather he could not wait to see his wife Mamie and just be home. However that visit had long been cancelled by President Truman. The Levant Crisis and its resulting aftermath had seen to it, and they now fully occupied his time.
He had objected to allowing Soviet troops through the corridors that had been set up through the American zones of occupation, but that too had been overruled. Now forty three Soviet armored divisions were tucked safely away within the French zones of occupation.
The General shook his head. They were not zones of occupation, he reminded himself sarcastically, they were now a part of France!
He might have been the Chief of the Army and the Governor of Germany, but for the moment Dwight D. Eisenhower could not help but to feel powerless.
Fred Clements rested, his back against a spruce tree. The Black Dragon stood in the distance, as men continued to work upon the massive howitzer. The sun was beginning to rise, its light gradually washing over the American private's face. Yet he remained still, unblinking as the sun rose over Germany. And he would not blink.
Meanwhile the work proceeded on the 240mm M1 cannon, but it was driven by the three men from the forest, who silently labored and ignored the bodies of the now deceased American detachment.
June 16, 1945 2:00AM EST
Henry Morgenthau felt far better today. Between the horrid flight into England and his disturbing meeting with the British Prime Minister, he thought that it might be difficult to sleep. And while the Secretary of the Treasury had only rested for seven hours at the American embassy, a good night's rest and a proper breakfast had done wonders for his mind and spirit. Although he easily could have had the Sunday Times reporter come to the embassy for the requested interview, Henry thought it would be good to get a proper assessment of the spirit and state of the English. As unusual as Churchill seemed to be, the Treasury Secretary thought, he could hardly be faulted for being rattled. Winston had survived not only an attempted assassination, but an actual coup had been attempted in league with German fanatics. Morgenthau in one sense could hardly believe it, but it also reaffirmed the purpose of his visit. If the Prime Minister would not listen to what he had to say, then perhaps the British people would.
Ian Fleming extended a hand, which Morgenthau clasped.
"Thank you for coming in, Mr. Secretary," Fleming said.
"It is indeed all mine," replied Morgenthau. They both sat down in the conference room at the Times building that Fleming had reserved for the interview.
"So what have you come to England for, Mr. Secretary?" asked Fleming. He took out a pen and prepared to write on the pad before him.
"To tell the British people about the same problem that I have discussed with your Prime Minister," replied Morgenthau. "The same problem that every Allied nation has faced in this decade. The problem that refuses to go away, and now has threatened to topple the British government. However it is not just your problem now. Germany is our problem."
June 16, 1945 2:02AM EST
The General rubbed his eyes as he stared out his window at the forest below. The morning sunlight made the wrinkles in his face even deeper. He had slept horribly the previous night, his thoughts keeping him from rest. Part of him wanted to be angry with President Truman. He had been scheduled to return to the United States and give an address to a joint session of Congress in two days. Not that he was looking forward to that, rather he could not wait to see his wife Mamie and just be home. However that visit had long been cancelled by President Truman. The Levant Crisis and its resulting aftermath had seen to it, and they now fully occupied his time.
He had objected to allowing Soviet troops through the corridors that had been set up through the American zones of occupation, but that too had been overruled. Now forty three Soviet armored divisions were tucked safely away within the French zones of occupation.
The General shook his head. They were not zones of occupation, he reminded himself sarcastically, they were now a part of France!
He might have been the Chief of the Army and the Governor of Germany, but for the moment Dwight D. Eisenhower could not help but to feel powerless.
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Chapter 7 - Haman
June 16, 1945 2:12AM EST
Henry Morgenthau leaned forward.
"There can be no peace on Earth if aggressor nations like Germany and Japan retain any power to strike against their neighbors," he said firmly. "Sadly, it is your people that are seeing the consequences of this first."
Fleming grimaced inwardly, but betrayed no emotion. He wrote down a few notes and then looked up at the US Secretary of the Treasury.
"What do you say to those who claim you are motivated by vengeance against the German people? Anthony Eden has said that you and Lord Cherwell were seeking to wash away your shared ancestry in a bath of hate."
Morgenthau showed no reaction. "I do not hate the Germans as a people. I hate however what these successive generations of Germans have done. The horrors that they have visited upon the peoples of the world...is it vengeance to hold those responsible to justice? And not only that, is it vengeance to seek to break the cycle of war and hatred that has been incubated within that nation's culture?"
He shook his head.
"No, my motivation is entirely based on the conviction that the purpose of our program in dealing with Germany should be peace. And that is its only purpose. The peoples of the earth have a right to demand of their peacemakers that another generation of youth shall not have to be maimed and die in the defense of human freedom. These hopes, mankind's hopes, they rest upon the peace which we are to build. It is this peace that will determine whether those that died perished in vain."
Ian Fleming was silent, quickly writing down notes. The Treasury Secretary leaned down, opened his briefcase and withdrew a binder.
"This is a road map for that peace," he said as he handed the binder to Fleming. "The terms of post war governance have been set too lightly. We must be more concerned about building a stronger Europe than a restoring a strong Germany if we are to rid ourselves of the fear of future aggression. It is the only way."
"And what is your president's views on this road map?" asked Fleming.
"President Truman agrees with its conclusions entirely," replied Morgenthau firmly. "I had requested permission to publish it, and this he has enthusiastically granted. And I give this to you freely, as I also will be doing with papers in America to publish. The Times however shall be first."
Ian Fleming took hold over the binder and looked it over. It had a simple title. Germany Is Our Problem.
June 16, 1945 2:15AM EST
The men of the forest finished setting the elevation to the 240mm howitzer. The first 9.4 inch shell was carefully loaded into place.
June 16, 1945 2:16AM EST
William Berry was furious. The owner of the Sunday Times had arrived to the office late, only to find that he had missed his chance to speak with the American Secretary of the Treasury himself. A long-time supporter of the Prime Minister, he had heard of the frosty reception that had been given to Morgenthau by Churchill. The 1st Viscount Camrose walked through the busy newsroom, looking for Ian Fleming.
June 16, 1945 2:17AM EST
General Omar Bradley leaned over the map in his commander's office. The Soviet troop dispersion within French occupied Germany and Austria were as concerning to him as they were to Eisenhower.
“Now we know what the Russians felt like in the summer of '43,” he said grimly as he examined the map.
“That’s not too far from the mark,” replied Eisenhower. “Giessen could easily be our Kursk. Soviet troops to the east and the west, it is like we possess a salient and not a zone of occupation."
Bradley sighed. "We need to do what they did that spring. Fortify our flanks. Build mine fields. Slow the draw down to the Pacific."
"I have suggested the same thing to the President," replied Eisenhower. "He has taken it under advisement, but no directive so far."
"Sir, you are the Chief of the Army," said Bradley. "With all due respect, sir, you should take the initiative."
Eisenhower contemplated that for a moment, then smiled. "I'll take that under advisement."
His counterpart chuckled darkly and stood up. "Would you like some coffee, sir?"
"Do I like anything else?", Eisenhower asked.
General Bradley stood and began to walk towards the coffee machine at the far end of the office. He abruptly paused, and cocked his head. It was a noise. Familiar, and growing louder. He looked at his commander with sudden alarm. "Sir, we --"
June 16, 1945 2:18AM EST
The first 9.4 inch shell slammed into the side of the the IG Farben building, creating a huge explosion. Personnel outside of the American headquarters in occupied Germany were slammed to the ground as pieces of concrete rained down upon them. Chaos ensued as soldiers began randomly firing at phantom enemies imagined in and around the Allied occupation zone. The building itself quickly disappeared within a pall of smoke as fire began to burn inside.
And then moments later, the next shell struck the complex.
June 16, 1945 2:19AM EST
A staff car from the American embassy departed the parking lot of the Sunday Times. It exited Printing House Yard and paused at the edge of Hackney Road, over a maintenance hatch that was flush with the street.
A second later a mammoth blast erupted beneath the vehicle, sending the staff car pirouetting into the sky.
June 16, 1945 2:31AM EST
American soldiers rushed into the clearing to find the barrel of the 240mm M1 still smoking. But that was all, save the bodies of the dead unit that had been detached to guard the howitzer. And the crude image of a wolf painted on the barrel of the gun.
Henry Morgenthau leaned forward.
"There can be no peace on Earth if aggressor nations like Germany and Japan retain any power to strike against their neighbors," he said firmly. "Sadly, it is your people that are seeing the consequences of this first."
Fleming grimaced inwardly, but betrayed no emotion. He wrote down a few notes and then looked up at the US Secretary of the Treasury.
"What do you say to those who claim you are motivated by vengeance against the German people? Anthony Eden has said that you and Lord Cherwell were seeking to wash away your shared ancestry in a bath of hate."
Morgenthau showed no reaction. "I do not hate the Germans as a people. I hate however what these successive generations of Germans have done. The horrors that they have visited upon the peoples of the world...is it vengeance to hold those responsible to justice? And not only that, is it vengeance to seek to break the cycle of war and hatred that has been incubated within that nation's culture?"
He shook his head.
"No, my motivation is entirely based on the conviction that the purpose of our program in dealing with Germany should be peace. And that is its only purpose. The peoples of the earth have a right to demand of their peacemakers that another generation of youth shall not have to be maimed and die in the defense of human freedom. These hopes, mankind's hopes, they rest upon the peace which we are to build. It is this peace that will determine whether those that died perished in vain."
Ian Fleming was silent, quickly writing down notes. The Treasury Secretary leaned down, opened his briefcase and withdrew a binder.
"This is a road map for that peace," he said as he handed the binder to Fleming. "The terms of post war governance have been set too lightly. We must be more concerned about building a stronger Europe than a restoring a strong Germany if we are to rid ourselves of the fear of future aggression. It is the only way."
"And what is your president's views on this road map?" asked Fleming.
"President Truman agrees with its conclusions entirely," replied Morgenthau firmly. "I had requested permission to publish it, and this he has enthusiastically granted. And I give this to you freely, as I also will be doing with papers in America to publish. The Times however shall be first."
Ian Fleming took hold over the binder and looked it over. It had a simple title. Germany Is Our Problem.
June 16, 1945 2:15AM EST
The men of the forest finished setting the elevation to the 240mm howitzer. The first 9.4 inch shell was carefully loaded into place.
June 16, 1945 2:16AM EST
William Berry was furious. The owner of the Sunday Times had arrived to the office late, only to find that he had missed his chance to speak with the American Secretary of the Treasury himself. A long-time supporter of the Prime Minister, he had heard of the frosty reception that had been given to Morgenthau by Churchill. The 1st Viscount Camrose walked through the busy newsroom, looking for Ian Fleming.
June 16, 1945 2:17AM EST
General Omar Bradley leaned over the map in his commander's office. The Soviet troop dispersion within French occupied Germany and Austria were as concerning to him as they were to Eisenhower.
“Now we know what the Russians felt like in the summer of '43,” he said grimly as he examined the map.
“That’s not too far from the mark,” replied Eisenhower. “Giessen could easily be our Kursk. Soviet troops to the east and the west, it is like we possess a salient and not a zone of occupation."
Bradley sighed. "We need to do what they did that spring. Fortify our flanks. Build mine fields. Slow the draw down to the Pacific."
"I have suggested the same thing to the President," replied Eisenhower. "He has taken it under advisement, but no directive so far."
"Sir, you are the Chief of the Army," said Bradley. "With all due respect, sir, you should take the initiative."
Eisenhower contemplated that for a moment, then smiled. "I'll take that under advisement."
His counterpart chuckled darkly and stood up. "Would you like some coffee, sir?"
"Do I like anything else?", Eisenhower asked.
General Bradley stood and began to walk towards the coffee machine at the far end of the office. He abruptly paused, and cocked his head. It was a noise. Familiar, and growing louder. He looked at his commander with sudden alarm. "Sir, we --"
June 16, 1945 2:18AM EST
The first 9.4 inch shell slammed into the side of the the IG Farben building, creating a huge explosion. Personnel outside of the American headquarters in occupied Germany were slammed to the ground as pieces of concrete rained down upon them. Chaos ensued as soldiers began randomly firing at phantom enemies imagined in and around the Allied occupation zone. The building itself quickly disappeared within a pall of smoke as fire began to burn inside.
And then moments later, the next shell struck the complex.
June 16, 1945 2:19AM EST
A staff car from the American embassy departed the parking lot of the Sunday Times. It exited Printing House Yard and paused at the edge of Hackney Road, over a maintenance hatch that was flush with the street.
A second later a mammoth blast erupted beneath the vehicle, sending the staff car pirouetting into the sky.
June 16, 1945 2:31AM EST
American soldiers rushed into the clearing to find the barrel of the 240mm M1 still smoking. But that was all, save the bodies of the dead unit that had been detached to guard the howitzer. And the crude image of a wolf painted on the barrel of the gun.
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Thanks - you're absolutely right. I misread the caliber. Making the correction now!
Chapter 8 - A Plan for Morgenthau
June 16, 1945
"The bomb went off like a flash," wrote Peter Dunne in a letter to his brother Will. "I was outside the Times building when it went off. It was so powerful, it shattered the windows of every building for three blocks. Two of my mates were hit by shrapnel. I was fortunate to not have been struck, but those poor blokes in the car. They never stood a chance. And right in front of the Three-Penny Daily Worker! They have been supporting the Reds for years. I wonder what they will have to say about this now? These Germans and the Red collaborators have to be stopped!"
Excerpt from Twilight Britain: 1945 - 1956, (2007) by David Kynaston
"The War Cabinet was apoplectic. Bevins in particular was grieved. However I found the Prime Minister's reaction curious. Quite curious indeed. He showed no emotion, which for Winston was very unusual. Especially in these times, when he had seemed more prone to outbursts. He merely inquired about the welfare of General Montgomery. At the time, I took this for logical steadfastness."
Interview with First Lord Brendan Bracken, published in "A Lion In The Whirlwind" by Charles Edward Lysaght (1975)
Second wave of terror strikes UK, Germany - The Times headline
Morgenthau dead; Allied HQ struck in Germany - New York Times headline
Prime Minister Declares State of Emergency - Daily Telegraph headline
Generals Eisenhower & Bradley, 73 others dead in German Attack - Washington-Times Herald headline
"The bomb went off like a flash," wrote Peter Dunne in a letter to his brother Will. "I was outside the Times building when it went off. It was so powerful, it shattered the windows of every building for three blocks. Two of my mates were hit by shrapnel. I was fortunate to not have been struck, but those poor blokes in the car. They never stood a chance. And right in front of the Three-Penny Daily Worker! They have been supporting the Reds for years. I wonder what they will have to say about this now? These Germans and the Red collaborators have to be stopped!"
Excerpt from Twilight Britain: 1945 - 1956, (2007) by David Kynaston
"The War Cabinet was apoplectic. Bevins in particular was grieved. However I found the Prime Minister's reaction curious. Quite curious indeed. He showed no emotion, which for Winston was very unusual. Especially in these times, when he had seemed more prone to outbursts. He merely inquired about the welfare of General Montgomery. At the time, I took this for logical steadfastness."
Interview with First Lord Brendan Bracken, published in "A Lion In The Whirlwind" by Charles Edward Lysaght (1975)
Second wave of terror strikes UK, Germany - The Times headline
Morgenthau dead; Allied HQ struck in Germany - New York Times headline
Prime Minister Declares State of Emergency - Daily Telegraph headline
Generals Eisenhower & Bradley, 73 others dead in German Attack - Washington-Times Herald headline
WOW, after this is over, you might see the Soviet occupation of Germany as more humane than the WAllied one.
I can only imagine the sheer scandal when this comes out, especially to the American people.
I can only imagine the sheer scandal when this comes out, especially to the American people.
