Chamberlain in early November 1940 and the return of Anthony Eden to the Foreign Office at year’s end (with Halifax shifted to the British Embassy in Washington) seemed to symbolize the final triumph of the Churchill men. The Prime Minister, at the height of his powers in his mid-sixties, drove them remorselessly, in turn infuriated, inspired, confounded, and consoled them.
By this time Churchill was on terms of slightly circumspect but close familiarity with Roosevelt, even though they had met only once, during World War I—a meeting Roosevelt professed to remember and Churchill did not. Their messages flowed back and forth freely. The Former Naval Person, as he still signed himself, could send as late as 2:00 A.M. a cable that would go directly to the American Embassy in London, which would flash it to the White House through special coding machines; often Roosevelt would have it before he went to bed. Sometimes the President’s reply was awaiting Churchill when he awoke in the morning.
Churchill had looked on with admiration as Roosevelt defied the Nazis abroad and the isolationists at home. He had rejoiced when Roosevelt trounced his opposition at the polls. Now—presumably—the President would act.
There were subdued differences between the two, however, even at this early stage. Each was his nation’s agent; each was a patriot. The interests of their nations, so closely intertwined during these months, could always branch off; they could even break apart, as had those of Vichy and London. Roosevelt had turned away Churchill’s plea for destroyers in May, when they were most needed; the deal in September, though warmly greeted in London, would bring only half a dozen of the old craft into action by the end of 1940. The destroyers themselves had been the lesser stakes in the game. Churchill’s main goal had been to entangle the two nation’s affairs and interests beyond possibility of separation and divorce. Roosevelt had wanted instead a straight quid pro quo that he could present to a wary Congress as a simple Yankee horse trade. The two leaders had compromised: Churchill had treated the exchange of destroyers and leased bases as a “parallel transaction” reflecting the mutual interests of the two countries; Roosevelt had presented it to Congress as the quid and quo of a deal.
Churchill had won his main goal. “I have no doubt,” he told theHouse of Commons, “that Herr Hitler will not like this transfer of destroyers, and I have no doubt that he will pay the United States out, if he ever gets the chance.”
But now, with Roosevelt’s trial by votes over, there was a curious lull and resistance in Washington. Where were the stepped-up actions and bold new departures that the election returns seemed to warrant? The Roosevelt administration seemed to be following a clear policy of “America First.” Washington was still demanding “cash and carry”; increasingly, London was finding it hard to supply either.
A month after the election Churchill wrote perhaps the most important letter of his life. “My Dear Mr. President,” it began. “As we reach the end of this year, I feel you will expect me to lay before you the prospects for 1941. I do so with candour and confidence, because it seems to me that the vast majority of American citizens have recorded their conviction that the safety of the United States, as well as the future of our two Democracies and the kind of civilisation for which they stand, is bound up with the survival and independence of the British Commonwealth of Nations. Only thus can those bastions of sea-power, upon which the control of the Atlantic and Indian Oceans depend, be preserved in faithful and friendly hands….”
He went on to assess the strategic situation. Britain could not match the immense armies of the Germans, but through air and sea power it could meet the Nazis where only comparatively small forces could be brought into action. To defend Africa and southern