Churchill's warning had two effects of transcendent importance: 1) they
speeded up expansion of the R.A.F. to the point that saved Britain, 2) they
left Churchill with a clear record, giving the free world a man to trust, after
so many other leaders stood disgraced by unpreparedness and appeasement.
On Sept. 3, 1939, His Majesty's ships on the seven seas cheered a signal
from the Admiralty's Sea Lords: "Winston is back." The disasters of early 1940
had finished Chamberlain. Calling in Churchill and Lord Halifax, he told them
that a coalition government had to be formed. Labor Party leaders would not
serve under other Conservatives tainted with appeasement; the new Prime
Minister had to be either Churchill or Halifax. For once, the voluble Churchill
was silent. For a long minute he stared fixedly into space until Halifax
modestly declined the task. Churchill, at 65, had attained the supreme
responsibility at a moment of supreme crisis. He thought that was just as it
should be: "As I went to bed at about 3 a.m. I was conscious of a profound
sense of relief...Impatient for the morning, I slept soundly and had no need
for cheering dreams. Facts are better than dreams."
What Churchill said and did thereafter is still famous and fresh in the
world's memory. Some of the passages of his wartime speeches are as ready to
the tongue of 1950 as anything in Shakespeare, and the deeds to which he was a
party are still better known.
"What Will the People Think?" From his study of Marlborough's times (in
which some British leaders dealt secretly with the enemy, France, and thereby
consolidated Britain's reputation as "perfidious Albion"), Churchill brought a
deep sense of the moral and political necessity of good faith between wartime
allies. Although he was never misled about Communism's character or ultimate
aims, he dealt loyally with his ally, Stalin. Through the darkest months,
working more & more closely with Roosevelt, Churchill hoped for and
expected that an even greater ally, the U.S. would come in. This dream might
never have come true but for dreams on the other side of the world.
Japan had dreamed of progress and her course had been unprecedented in
history. In a single century this isolated, feudal realm, with meager natural
resources, had become master of the East. It held half of China, and was
wearing down the long, masterly defense of Chiang Kai-shek. All seemed clear
sailing ahead, except for U.S. insistence that Japanese troops get out of
Indo-China.
To deal with that, a Japanese task force left Kure harbor in mid-November
1941. Iki Kuramoto, a Japanese sailor, has left a record of how it seemed from
his side:
