Raids and Refugees

Groups of Nazi soldiers strolled idly through the tiny streets of the little old walled pirate town of St. Malo last week, amiably tested their schoolboy French on the natives. The natives' terror of the German scourge was beginning to give way to frank curiosity; after all, hadn't this been a leave area for the big blond Americans in the last war? Blitzkrieg-weary, everybody relaxed expansively in the warmth of a summer sun.

In the distance, a low rumbling burst into a roar as a climbing pillar of flame shot skywards from the oil tanks on the docks. Incredulously, St. Maloans listened as the sound of gunfire rolled up from the harbor, ducked wildly for shelter as British bombers and fighter planes slanted down to their targets.

On the water front startled Nazi sentries stumbled to the defense, fell before the surprise attack of a British landing party perfectly coordinated with the assault from the air. As quickly as they had come the airmen pulled out and sped away, the raiders vanished. In broad daylight, all up & down the coast English soldiers, sailors & airmen stabbed the German-held shore line in a series of lightning sorties.

What the raiders found out about Nazi preparations to cross the Channel, the British War Office kept to itself. But the British east coast, from Berwick-on-Tweed on the Scottish border around to Hastings on the Channel, where William the Conqueror conquered, was proclaimed a defense zone and its inhabitants packed up. Britain's bathing beaches became a barbed-wire front. A huge fleet of fishing craft to transport troops in small groups was reported being assembled by the Germans along the Norwegian, Dutch, Belgian and French coasts.

Jersey, Guernsey and Alderney cows got their names from three lush islands strung along the west coast of the Normandy peninsula, at the end of which lies Cherbourg Harbor. All within 30 miles of France, the Channel Islands nevertheless belonged to Great Britain (each with a proud little provincial Government of its own). When the Germans extended their grip down Europe's west coast to the Spanish border, the English Channel became No Man's Land. But not until last week did 95,000 Channel Islanders recognize that fact and, on orders from London, begin to move out.

Many of the best dairy herds were shipped away in time, but thousands of steers and heifers, thousands of poultry had to be turned loose to forage for themselves when their masters fled. Dogs & cats were put away. Refugees were allowed only 28 Ib. of baggage on the Channel steamers, launches, or cattle boats sent to fetch them. They abandoned their motorcars at the beach heads, one wealthy woman auctioning her mahogany-paneled Rolls-Royce for -L-5.

The Channel Islanders almost were too late. Though London announced that the isles were demilitarized, triads of German "flying pencils" (Dorniers) last week swooped low, unopposed, to bomb and machine-gun what the German High Command called "troop concentrations." Eyewitnesses reported the blasting of lines of trucks carrying tomatoes and potatoes, the slaughter of a score of civilians at one dock in Guernsey. Following the bombings, the Channel Islands were taken over by German troops from the mainland, who scoured the shores and interiors for hidden British observers left behind.

Gardens Into Forts. Meantime, Britain's final girding of her loins continued to be as clumsy as it was desperate. Government and press exhorted "Make this island a fortress," "Make your garden a fort." George Bernard Shaw observed with chagrin: "It has got no further than paper." At the height of an effort supposed to occupy all man power 24 hours per day under absolute military dictatorship, Britain still had about one million unemployed; factory workers still knocked off for tea; the middle class still played golf and cricket; upper-class people tried to leave the country. Lord Beaverbrook's Daily Express called for "A hand grenade at every village pump," to which a British general snorted: "As well say, 'A French 75 for every child over five.' "

Lord Beaverbrook, as Minister of Aircraft Production, urged factory workers to stick at their jobs until bombs actually began hitting near them, as unwarned German workers are supposed to do.*

Minister of Supply Herbert Morrison published a cheering report on increases of monthly war production since April. Tanks, both cruiser and light, were up 115% for June, he said, and the manufacturers had been told to leave off frills, concentrate on turning out numbers. Bren gun carriages were up 64%, guns of various calibres from 50% to 228%, small arms 49% to 186%, ammunition 35% to 420%. But the April indices for Minister Morrison's comparison were known to be shockingly low, and Britain's factory areas are so concentrated that when mass bombing begins, production must fall as rapidly as it rose.

The Nazis last week promised to repay Britain "a thousandfold" for heavy blows which R. A. F. continued dealing to German oil dumps, steel plants, freight yards, canals, aircraft, margarine and synthetic gasoline factories. More maddening than scaring was the discovery that some bombs dropped by the Germans on Scotland during the week were British-made, captured in Flanders or France./-

Awaiting their fate, British civilians continued unpanicky. Said a bus driver: "What're ya grumbling at? We've reached the finals, ain't we? And we're playing at home, ain't we?"

* Minister of Information Duff Cooper's staff tried to upset German workers last week by broadcasting to them: "If the Nazis don't want to give air-raid warning, you must become your own air-raid wardens. If you think that human life has any value, accept our warning and hand it over to your neighbor. . . . Leave your working room and go to your air-raid shelter as soon as British fighter planes arrive."

/- Also captured in Flanders were some 500,000 British uniforms, which would make excellent disguises for invading parachutists.

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