Winston's War_ Churchill, 1940-1945 - Max Hastings [174]
The prime minister and his colleagues, like Roosevelt and Marshall, knew that Russia must be given assistance because, to put the matter bluntly, each Russian who died fighting the Germans was one less Englishman or American who must do so. But it would have been asking too much to expect the Westerners to like the Russians. Policy made it essential to pretend to do so, just as Stalin sometimes offered a charade of comradeship. But the Soviets behaved as brutes both to their own people and to the Western Allies. Only the idealists of the left, of whom there were many in wartime Britain though rather fewer in America, sustained romantic illusions about Mother Russia. They were fortunate enough never to glimpse its reality.
Back in Cairo on August 17, Churchill briefly lapsed into exhaustion. After a rest, however, he quizzed Alexander about the prospective desert offensive, which there were hopes of launching in September. On the nineteenth, he drove 120 miles through sandy wastes landmarked with supply dumps and wired encampments to visit Montgomery at his headquarters and inspect troops. This was an outing which he thoroughly enjoyed. He claimed to detect a new mood among officers and men. His imagination surely ran ahead of reality, for the new regime had been in place only a week. But a perception of change buoyed his spirits. He slept in the plane back to Cairo, then attended a conference, dined and sat chatting to Brooke in the warm night air on the embassy lawn until two a.m. He commissioned the ambassador’s wife654, Lady Lampson, to undertake a shopping expedition on behalf of Clementine, buying Worth perfume, Innoxa and Chanel face cream, fifteen lipsticks—and silk to make the delicate underwear in which he loved to clothe himself.
A signal arrived from Mountbatten, describing the raid on Dieppe that had taken place that day. Of six thousand men engaged, mostly Canadian, a thousand had been killed and two thousand taken prisoner. More than a hundred aircraft had been lost in fierce air battles with the Luftwaffe. Yet the chief of Combined Operations reported, absurdly: “Morale of returning troops reported to be excellent. All I have seen are in great form.” It was some time before Churchill fully grasped the disastrous character of the raid. Lessons were learned about the difficulties of attacking a hostile shore. Inflated RAF claims masked the reality that the Germans had that day shot down two British aircraft for every one which they themselves lost. Once more, a sense of institutional incompetence overlay the debacle. The invaders bungled the amphibious assault in every possible way, while the Germans responded with their accustomed speed and efficiency. After almost three years of war, Britain was incapable of conducting a limited surprise attack against an objective and at a moment of its own choice. Mountbatten was successful in evading responsibility, much of which properly belonged to him—back in May, he had boasted to Molotov about “his” impending operation. But leaders and planners had failed at every level. Incredibly, Gen. Sir Archibald Nye, acting CIGS in Brooke’s absence, was unaware that the raid was taking place. It is scant wonder that Churchill lacked confidence in his commanders, and remained morbidly fearful that Britain’s war-making instruments were doomed to break in his hand.
Only Beaverbrook, still banging a drum for the Second Front, seemed unchastened by the experience of Dieppe. His Evening