“You can’t do that, Prime Minister.” Butler’s voice was its suave self; Bridges was reminded of the times he had seen oil slicks spreading across water. “It will be showing weakness. The time has come, I think, to put a bit of stick about. Wavell and his cronies must be brought to heel and we must assert our authority over British forces outside these Islands.”
Halifax looked desperate. For a moment, Bridges felt sorry for him. He was out of his depth and clutching for straws of support wherever he could find them. “Prime Minister, there is another Army principle it might be worth bearing in mind. ‘Never issue an order unless one is sure it will be obeyed.’ That applies with great force here. At the moment, our authority over the forces abroad is tenuous and disputed. As long as we do nothing to bring the matter to a head, that is how it will remain. But, if we bring about a major confrontation with Middle East Command, a dispute which we cannot win, then all doubt will be removed and any authority we have left will be erased.”
“Sir Edward, perhaps we have cause to doubt your loyalty?” Butler’s voice was still oily-smooth, but there was a distinctly threatening element to it.
Bridges looked at Halifax and his lips formed a distinct phrase. “The Stone.” That was all it took to cause Halifax to backtrack very quickly.
“Richard, there is no need to impugn Sir Edward’s loyalty. It is his duty to raise issues that we might consider unpalatable.” Butler nodded abruptly, but Bridges was in no doubt that he had just acquired a new and dangerous enemy. Halifax seemed distressed and uncertain as he continued speaking.
“Is there nothing good that can come of this situation?”
Butler took the opportunity with both hands. “We understand that the Italians asked for German help in resisting the forces commanded by General Wavell. They were refused in a message of unprecedented discourtesy. This makes it clear that Germany regards us as its most important ally in Europe and our position with regard to them is greatly strengthened.”
“We are not an ally of Nazi Germany, Richard, and our interests only temporarily converge with theirs. Great Britain has decided to remain neutral; that is all.”
“My apologies, Prime Minister.” Am I alone in hearing a note of derision in those words? thought Bridges. “I mis-spoke. I did not mean to imply we should consider ourselves an ally of Germany; merely a country with whom Germany maintains friendly relations. However, we must take due note of the fact that the danger of Bolshevism means that our interests and those of Germany may be greater than you suppose.”
Bridges was interested to note that Halifax did not look at all at ease with the line Butler was following. The Prime Minister quickly shifted back towards the subject of Wavell and the status of Middle East Command. “So what do we do about Wavell’s insubordination?”
“Well, Prime Minister, the traditional options are that we recall him for court martial and cashier him, reassign him to another post of such little importance that he will resign in disgust, ignore him completely or claim all the credit for his achievements and imply his contributions were of little import. He will ignore the first and second, take advantage of the third to further consolidate his position and it is already too late for the fourth. The fact that we, and the rest of the Commonwealth, are on divergent courses puts us in terra incognita here, Prime Minister. Anything we do will establish a precedent. May I suggest that a suitable one would be masterly inactivity?”
“Perhaps, Sir Edward. Please leave us now. The Foreign Secretary and I have party business to discuss.”
That is a reasonable excuse to ask me to withdraw. But why do I not like the expression on Butler’s face? Sir Edward Bridges backed out of the Cabinet Office and made a thoughtful progress down the stairs to the front door of Number Ten. Two of Butler’s Auxiliaries were on guard, each armed with a Thompson submachine gun. I wonder how long we will be able to get ammunition for them? It’s been a long time since I had a drink with old Murray. I’ll invite him over one evening, soon.
There was an addition to that thought that Sir Edward Bridges resolutely kept even from himself. Sir Murray Prestcote was a long-retired veteran of the British Army in India. But, he had been very active in keeping in contact with the service and had many friends there. If somebody knew how to warn General Wavell to watch his back, it would be him.
“What are the terms of our agreement with the Commonwealth of Nations?”
Graziani, Badoglio, Ciano and the other occupants of the Army supreme command had expected Benito Mussolini to return either screaming with fury or venting bombastic nonsense. Instead, after almost two weeks sequestered in his private apartments, he sounded quiet and uncharacteristically unpretentious. The doctors said he had suffered from a severe stroke and complete nervous prostration.
Had the combination of the two made such a difference to the man’s character? Ciano thought to himself. Brought on by catastrophic military defeat and abandonment by our closest ally? That would be enough to dull the spirit of any man. Or restore humility to him.
“Duce, we have secured Libya at its pre-war boundaries and the return of our prisoners of war. The Commonwealth will withdraw from Cyrenaica, but they will retain all the equipment and supplies they have captured. We have agreed to a 20-kilometer wide demilitarized zone on each side of the border; into which no military forces may enter, except by our joint agreement. The Commonwealth has agreed to joint patrols to ensure that these terms are observed. We have had to sacrifice Ethiopia, which has returned to its previous administration. Eritrea and Somaliland will be administered by the Commonwealth of Nations as if they were League of Nations trusts. In summary, we have managed to retain Libya, but at the cost of all our other African possessions.” Now order me shot. I have done my best for Italy and I will be content with that.
“We kept Libya, but have lost the rest of our North African possessions.” Mussolini paused and took a deep breath. The voice had changed as well; the ringing aggression and bouncing self-confidence were gone completely. Now there was an almost thoughtful overtone; the tone of a philosopher, rather than a dictator.
“Well, I have decided I am not a collector of deserts. We can bid farewell to possessions that never benefitted us. Now is the time to look forward, not back. Our treatment at the hands of Herr Hitler has shown us that we can only become strong, I feel, when we have no friends upon whom to lean, or to look to for moral guidance. To continue this war would be national suicide. We must never consider the possibility of suicide; national or personal. We must despise and reject it. Rather, we must see these events as a part of life. As Italians, we must accept what life brings us and learn to love it. Our life should be high and full, lived for oneself, but not that above all; for we must also consider others. Those who are at hand and those who are far distant, contemporaries, and those who will come after us; their interests too we must consider.