Secret Armies Part 2

The amiable Lord Halifax was appointed Foreign Secretary. Pro-fascists like A.L. Lennon-Boyd, stanch supporter of Franco and admirer of Hitler and Mussolini, were given ministerial posts.

The Austrian invasion was delayed for three weeks because of the difficulty in getting Eden out. When the news flashed to a startled world that n.a.z.i troops were thundering into a country whose independence Hitler had promised to respect, M. Corbin, the still unsuspecting French Amba.s.sador, rushed to the Foreign Office to arrange for swift joint action. This was at four o'clock in the afternoon of March 11, 1938. Instead of receiving him immediately, Lord Halifax kept him waiting until nine o'clock in the evening. By that time Austria was n.a.z.i territory. There was nothing to do but protest; so Lord Halifax, with a straight face, joined France in a "strong protest." It was not until a week after Austria had been absorbed that the French Intelligence Service learned the details of the Halifax deal and finally understood why England had side-stepped the pleas for joint action and why the French Amba.s.sador had been kept cooling his heels until the occupation of Austria was completed.

From Austria Hitler got more men for his army, large deposits of magnesite, timber forests and enormous water-power resources for electricity. From Czechoslovakia, if he could get it, Hitler would have the Skoda armament works, one of the biggest in the world, factories in the Sudeten area, be next door to Hungarian wheat and Rumanian oil, dominate the Balkans, destroy potential Russian air and troop bases in Central Europe, and place n.a.z.i troops within a few miles of the Soviet border and the Ukrainian wheat fields he has eyed so long.

Five days after Austria was invaded, on March 16, at 3:30 in the afternoon, Lord Halifax personally summoned the Czechoslovakian Minister. At four o'clock the Minister came out of the conference with a dazed and bewildered air. Lord Halifax had made some "suggestions."

Revealing complete ignorance of what had happened and was happening in Czechoslovakian politics, Halifax was nevertheless laying down the law.

It was obvious that the British Foreign Secretary was getting orders from someone else, for Halifax suggested that the Central European Republic try to conciliate Germany (which it had been doing for months) and that a German be taken into the cabinet (there were already three in it). On March 22 there was another meeting at which the Minister learned that Halifax wanted the Czech Government to take a n.a.z.i into the cabinet--as Austria took Dr. Seyss-Inquart at Hitler's orders.

This pressure from England for Czechoslovakian n.a.z.is to be given more power in the government was virtually telling the beleaguered little democracy to fas.h.i.+on a strong rope and hang itself. Subsequent events showed that Chamberlain personally supplied the rope.

Then came the historic week-end of March 26-27, 1938.

The walls of the small drawing room at Cliveden House are lined with shelves filled with books. The laughing and chatting guests had gathered there after a delightful dinner. For the Prime Minister of England to go through all sorts of contortions in a game of charades might prove a trifle undignified; so the hostess suggested that they play "musical chairs."

Everyone thought it was a splendid idea and men servants in their impressive blue liveries arranged the chairs in the required order, carefully s.p.a.cing the distances between them. One of the laughing and bejeweled women took her place at the piano. In "musical chairs" there is one person more than the number of chairs. When the music starts the players march around the chairs. The moment the music stops everyone dives for the nearest chair leaving the extra person standing and subject to the hilarious jibes of the other players and those rooting from the bleachers. It's one of the ways statesmen relax.

The music started and the dour Prime Minister of the greatest empire in the world, the Minister in charge of the Empire's defense measures, the editor of England's most powerful newspaper, the Right Honorable Speaker of the House of Commons, the sister-in-law of England's leading fascist and several others started marching while the piano tinkled its challenging tune. The Prime Minister, perhaps because he is essentially conservative, marched cautiously and stepped quickly between the s.p.a.ces while Lady Astor eyed him shrewdly and the others suppressed giggles. The Prime Minister tried to maintain at least the dignity of his banking background but managed "to look only a little porky" as one expressed it afterward. Suddenly the music stopped.

Everyone lunged for the nearest chair. The Prime Minister managed to get one and plopped into it heavily.

After half an hour or so some of the strategic rulers of Great Britain got a little winded and quit. A conversation started on foreign affairs and most of the wives retired to another room. When the discussion was ended the little Cliveden house party had come to six major decisions which will change the face of the world if successfully carried through.

Those decisions (maneuvers to put some of them into effect have already begun) are:

1. To inform France that England will go to her aid if she is attacked, unless the attack results from a treaty obligation with another power.

2. To introduce peace time conscription in England.

3. To appoint three ministers to coordinate industrial defense (conscription in peace time); supervise military conscription; and, coordinate the "political education of the people" (propaganda).

4. To reach an agreement with Italy to preserve the legitimate interest of both countries in the Mediterranean.

5. To discuss mutual problems with Germany.

6. To express the hope to Germany that her methods of self-a.s.sertion be such as will not hinder mutual discussions by arousing British public opinion against her.

The two most important decisions in this plan are the one for the conscription of labor in peace time and the effort to force France to break the Franco-Soviet pact by choosing between England and Russia.

Consider conscription first and the motives behind it:

When any country whose workers are strongly organized starts veering towards fascism, it must either win over the trade-unions in one way or another or destroy them, for rebellious labor can prevent fascism by means of the general strike. British labor is known to hate fascism since it has learned that fascism destroys, among other things, the value of the trade-unions and all that they have gained after many years of struggle. Any veering by England toward fascism and fascist alliances spells trouble with the trade-unions; hence, the decision "to coordinate the political education of the people." This move is particularly necessary since some trade-union leaders, especially in the important armament industry, have already stated publicly that unless the workers were given a.s.surances that the arms labor was manufacturing would be used in defense of democracy and not to destroy it, they would not cooperate.

Hence "the education of the people" and the conscription of labor in peace time which would ultimately lead to government control over the unions. With some variations it is the same procedure followed by Hitler in getting control of the once extremely powerful German trade-unions.

A few days after this historic week-end, the _Times_ came out for "national organization" and the wisdom of "national registration."

National registration, as the history of fascist countries has shown, is the first step in the conscription of labor. With this opening gun having been fired, it is a safe prophecy that if the Chamberlain government remains in office British labor will witness one of the most determined attacks ever made upon it in its history. All indications point to the ground being laid and it may result in splitting the trade-union movement, for some of the leaders are willing to go with the government while others have already indicated that they will refuse unless they know that it's for democracy and not for fascism.

The second important decision is to exert pressure upon France to break her pact with the Soviet Union--something Hitler has been unsuccessfully trying to accomplish for a long time. At the moment it appears that Great Britain will succeed just as she has already succeeded in breaking the Czechoslovakian-Soviet pact--another rupture Hitler was determined upon.

England has a reputation for shrewd diplomacy. In the past she has used nations and peoples, played one against the other, betrayed, sacrificed, double-crossed in the march of her empire. Since the Cliveden week-end, however, with its resultant intrigues, England has, to all appearances, finally double-crossed herself.

Those who guide her destiny and the destinies of her millions of subjects have apparently come to the conclusion that democracy, as England has known it, cannot survive and that it is a choice between fascism and communism. Under communism, the ruling cla.s.s to which the Cliveden week-end guests belong, stand to lose their wealth and power.

It is the fatuous hope of the economic royalists that under fascism they will still sit on top of the roost, and so the Cliveden week-enders move toward fascism.

Hitler's Fifth Column finds strange allies.

III

_France's Secret Fascist Army_

Neither Hitler nor Mussolini could have foreseen the development of a Cliveden set or England's willingness to weaken her own position as the dominant European power by sacrificing Austria and a good portion of Czechoslovakia. The totalitarian powers proceeded on the a.s.sumption that when the struggle for control of central Europe, the Balkans and the Mediterranean came they would have to fight.

The Rome-Berlin axis reasoned logically that if, when the expected war broke out, France could be disrupted by a widespread internal rebellion, not only would she be weakened on the battlefield but fascism might even be victorious in the Republic. In preparation for this, the axis sent into France secret agents plentifully supplied with money and arms, and almost succeeded in one of the most amazing plots in history.

The opening scene of events which led directly to the discovery of how far the foreign secret agents had progressed took place in the Restaurant Drouant on the Place Gaillon which is frequented by leaders of Paris' financial, industrial and cultural life.

Precisely at noon, on September 10, 1937, Jacqueline Blondet, an eighteen-year-old stenographer with marcelled hair, sparkling eyes, and heavily rouged lips, pa.s.sed through the rotating doors of the famous restaurant and turned right as she had been instructed. She had never been in so luxurious a place before--dining rooms done in gray or brown marble with furniture to match. Two steps lead from the gray to the brown room and Mlle. Blondet, not noticing them in her excitement, slipped and would have fallen had not the old wine steward who looks like Charles d.i.c.kens, caught and steadied her.

The two men with whom she was lunching were at a table at the far corner of the deserted room. The one who had invited her, Francois Metenier, a well-known French engineer and industrialist, powerfully built, with sharp eyes, dark hair, and a suave self-a.s.sured manner, rose at her approach, smiling at her embarra.s.sment. The other man, considerably younger, was M. Locuty, a stocky, bushy haired man with square jaws and heavy tortoise-sh.e.l.l eyegla.s.ses. He was an engineer at the huge Michelin Tire Works at Clermont-Ferrand where Metenier was an important official. The industrialist introduced the girl merely as "my friend" without mentioning her name.

With the exception of two couples having a late breakfast in the gray marble room, which they could see from their table, the three were alone.

"Shall we have a bottle of Bordeaux?" asked Metenier. "I ordered lunch by 'phone but I thought I would await your presence on the wine."

"Oh, anything you order," said Locuty with an effort at casualness.

"Yes, you order the wine," said the stenographer.

"_Garcon_, a bottle of St. Julien, Chateau Leoville-Poyferre 1870."

The ghost of Charles d.i.c.kens, who had been hovering nearby, bowed and smiled with appreciation of the guest's knowledge of a rare fine wine and personally rushed off to the cellars for the Bordeaux.

When the early lunch was over and the brandy had been set before them, Metenier studied his gla.s.s thoughtfully and glanced at the two portly men who had entered the brown dining room and sat some tables away. From the s.n.a.t.c.hes of conversation the three gathered that one was a literary critic and the other a publisher. They were discussing a thrilling detective story just published which the critic insisted was too fantastic.

Metenier said to Locuty:

"You will have to make two bombs. I will take you to a very important man in our organization, a power in France. He will personally give you the material and show you how to make them. Then I will take you to the places where you will leave them. I do not want them to see me."

In low tones, they discussed the bombing of two places. Metenier, a pillar of the church, highly respected in his community and well-known throughout France, cautioned them as they left.

Why the vivacious blond stenographer was permitted to sit in on this conversation, Locuty did not know, unless it was to tempt him, for, as she bade him good-by, she squeezed his hand significantly and said she wanted to see him again.

Metenier drove Locuty to an office building where he introduced him to a man he called "Leon"--actually Alfred Macon, concierge of a building which Metenier and others used as headquarters for their activities.