Were they able to fit the German tracks to Cruisers properly or did it make them more vulnerable to throwing or breaking a track?
My understanding is that they did fit properly - although the British tank is slightly longer so more links would be needed

If you look at the PzII tracks comparted to the A10 its very similar if not slightly wider but at that point in the war I suspect that there was little difference in pre-war track designs although by 1941 the Germans are ahead in accrued operational wartime AFV experience
 
1st May – 31st July 1939 – Wasted Time?

Garrison

Donor
1st May – 31st July 1939 – Wasted Time?

After the Fall of Czechoslovakia, an air of calm soon returned in Europe. This was purely superficial because behind the scenes there was much diplomatic activity and frantic efforts to prepare for a looming conflict, much of which would prove to be futile. As has previously been discussed the grand plans to double and triple German arms production had fallen apart and despite Hitler’s ranting demands there was little to be done about it. In Britain the will to do more was there and unlike Germany the resources to support that will were available, in theory at least. At this point it was the available production capacity that was proving the problem. Building new plant took time and converting factories dedicated to civilian production was not an option to be considered in peace time. So called shadow factories had been created, effectively allowing factories to produce military equipment alongside their civilian output. The effectiveness of the shadow factories varied considerably, but some of them did make useful contributions and laid the groundwork for conversion when war came.

Still the capabilities of the British armed forces were steadily improving. The RAF planned to have withdrawn all remaining Gloster Gladiators from front line service by the end of the year, largely replaced by Hurricanes under the plan in place at the time, and there had been a substantial effort to recruit pilots from among the ranks of the Czechs who had fled the Nazi’s as well as from the Dominions, and indeed from anywhere else people were willing to volunteer. The Navy was looking at steady stream of ships being commissioned across the remainder of 1939, and the first of the new Flower Class Corvettes was expected to commission in January of 1940. The Army might still not have all it wanted in the way of artillery and anti-tank guns, it could though at provide the trained men being provided by the MTA with rifles and light support weapons, there was even a reasonable supply of trucks and carriers to transport them. For the first time in years the army could look to its ability to engage a ‘peer’ enemy with some degree of optimism.

As to the French, Daladier made a flying visit to London on the 23rd of May and the primary purpose of his meeting with Chamberlain was to discuss the ongoing negotiations with the Soviets, aimed at persuading them to support the Polish security guarantee [1]. Given the antipathy expressed by Nazi Germany towards the USSR and Hitler’s candidly expressed desire to seize large parts of it to provide lebensraum for the German people this might not have seemed a difficult task, and indeed many at the time expected such a deal to be forthcoming at any moment in the summer of 1939. In the light of the events of August there has been much criticism of what were seen with hindsight as perfunctory efforts to strike a bargain with Stalin. Certainly, there was none of the shuttle diplomacy at the highest level that had characterized the Sudeten crisis, delegations were dispatched to the USSR by sea and the contrast in urgency between the negotiations with Hitler and Stalin does seem to provide damning evidence that the British let a deal slip through their fingers.

This is to ignore several issues that stood in the way of making a deal that had nothing to do with the sluggish pace of British diplomacy. To begin with there was the fact that from Stalin’s perspective there was little to choose between the different capitalist states, all of whom regarded Communism as a threat to their existence. He feared the intention of the British and French was to use the Red Army as cannon fodder to do their dirty work. There may have been some truth to this, but the British and French were equally concerned that Stalin would exploit their desire for Soviet support to protect Poland to strengthen his hand in Central Europe.

This may have been the most fundamental issue that stood in the way of any agreement. Stalin would expect substantial concessions to be offered for his support and neither Chamberlain nor Daladier were able to acquiesce to Stalin’s known territorial claims on Finland and the Baltic states, and they were certainly not about to offer up any Polish territory. In the end regardless of how energetically the French and British had wooed Stalin they simply could not match the sort of offer that would soon be made by Joachim von Ribbentrop on behalf of Hitler. It must also be borne in mind that the Poles had no desire to have the Red Army ‘defending’ their country, viewing such a plan as an occupation, and not without good reason.

If Poland could not be reinforced from the east the obvious alternative was to strike from the west, launching an assault on Germany itself. Many felt this was a far more attractive option than trying to deal with Stalin, the threat of such an attack being seen as a far greater deterrent to German expansionism than a dubious Soviet intervention. The primary burden for such an attack would inevitably fall on the French, a nation whose senior army officers were still haunted by the cataclysmic losses taken in the name of the doctrine of ‘attaque à outrance’ [2] in World War I. The vast sums spent on the Maginot Line reflected a determination not to repeat the mistakes of the past and encouraging the French to abandon their defences and launch themselves against Hitler’s West Wall was going to take more than warm words from London.

It was this that motivated a series of invitations to have representatives of the French military visit Britain and see that Chamberlain’s talk of rearming and preparing the nation for conflict had been backed up with action and that Britain was prepared to act as a full partner in any conflict against Germany, albeit still a junior partner. Daladier was certainly happy to endorse such invitations, believing stronger ties with the British could only be of benefit to France if it came to war with Germany. Gamelin however saw things differently. He could hardly turn down the invitations, nor avoid making a reciprocal offer, however he made it clear that his duties meant that he personally could not travel to Britain. At Daladier’s insistence he did select a delegation from among his staff and duly dispatched them to Britain. If the British hoped that the delegation would act as a conduit to communicate with Gamelin they were to be sorely disappointed.

Lord Gort had issued clear instructions that all questions put by the French delegation on technical and tactical matters were to be answered as fully as possible, those relating to strategy or policy were to be referred to the CIGS, Gort would consult with Chamberlain and address these matters as candidly as he could when he met with the delegation personally. The British were expecting to be subject to a thorough grilling over their plans and preparations. What they got instead was polite indifference. Some of the delegation spoke not a word of English and they had absolutely no authority to discuss any matters of significance, even what might have been seen as simple questions from the British were rebuffed with an insistence that matters must be referred to Paris for proper consideration.

Gamelin was simply unwilling to risk compromising his strategic independence by being shackled to British interests. Daladier was far from happy with the outcome of the visit but could hardly justify removing Gamelin for taking such a stance. Nonetheless, partly at Daladier’s insistence, plans for an attack on the German defences in the West were prepared, but they were envisioned as purely French operation and for all Gamelin’s assurances of massive attack with some 20 divisions it would become clear in due course that his actual intentions were far more limited. With more time Gamelin might have been persuaded to see a Franco-British attack as a feasible strategy or, more likely, Daladier might have been able to replace him with someone more flexibly minded. Time was about to run out however for both diplomacy with the Soviets and improving the state of Anglo-French co-operation [3].

[1] Obviously this visit is one of the butterflies of this timeline.

[2] Literally translates as ‘attack to excess’.

[3] Overall Gamelin’s strategy seems to have been to halt any German offensive in the west and then depend on superior British and French resources, and access to US industries, to win a war of attrition. Not a terrible strategy, if you don’t mind abandoning the Poles and assume the Ardennes are impenetrable…
 
23rd August – 3rd September 1939 – Molotov & Ribbentrop, Chamberlain’s Ultimatum, and the Declaration of War

Garrison

Donor
23rd August – 3rd September 1939 – Molotov & Ribbentrop, Chamberlain’s Ultimatum, and the Declaration of War

The announcement of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact shocked the world, it seemed utterly impossible given Hitler’s hatred for Communism and Slavic peoples in general and yet to the dismay of Communist parties across Western Europe it was quite real. It was the death knell for any remaining hops that Hitler might be dissuaded from war, which followed on the 1st of September as the Wehrmacht launched their long-awaited attack. Even now Hitler wanted to present Germany as the wronged party, creating a ‘false flag’ attack on the radio station at Gleiwitz, which was farcical on multiple levels, being badly executed and convincing no one despite the best efforts of the Reich’s propaganda machine [1]. There was a considerable amount of nervous tension at OKH, wondering exactly what the British and French would, even though they were fully confident that they could dispatch the Poles with ease.

In Paris the grim conclusion was reached that unless the Germans by some miracle decided to withdraw from Poland then a declaration of war must follow. Gamelin was no happier than Daladier at having to go to war, he was however confident in the outcome of any conflict. He now evinced the view that the Heer (the German army) was far weaker than in 1914 and it lacked the material resources to sustain a long war. To some extent this was all true, Germany was in desperate need of oil and raw materials and the trade deal that formed part of the negotiations with the Soviets only partially ameliorated their shortages. Such long-range planning left open the question of what was to be done in the short term, and it assumed that the Germans were unaware of their predicament and would conform to Gamelin’s plans.

The ultimatum dispatched to Berlin by Neville Chamberlain at 9am on the morning of the 3rd was a perfunctory document, a pro forma act before the Prime Minister made the inevitable declaration of war at 11am. It is a rare Prime Minister who gets to choose his moment to leave the stage, most are fated for their career to end in failure, either defeated at the ballot box or turned on by a party that has grown weary of them. Chamberlain didn’t currently have to worry about the ballot box but if he thought that with the outbreak of war his MPs would form a united front then he was to be sadly disappointed, and yet his political career still seemed to lead a charmed life, or perhaps cursed would be more appropriate in the circumstances.

The ‘grey suits’ of the 1922 committee kept their knives sheathed, for the moment, concerned that if the opposition parties had to be brought into a unity government, they might expect a say in who succeeded Chamberlain, which was an unpalatable prospect. Halifax however conceded there were probably some selfish motivations behind continued support of Chamberlain, “With the outbreak of war I honestly believe that the Prime Minister had reached the limit of his strength, it seemed he had gone as far as he could and stepping aside might even have been a relief for him. Even so everyone seemed to look to someone else to take the lead and make the call for him to step down. There was no prospect of relieving Poland and no on in the country wanted to see political squabbling taking place against the background of the country possibly facing an aerial onslaught from the Luftwaffe. Who indeed would want to take up the mantle of Prime Minister under such circumstances?”

The one man who would have revelled in taking up the mantle in exactly those circumstances had to content himself with the role of First Lord of the Admiralty, promoting a dispatch to the fleet, ‘Winston’s back!’ [2].

For the British once the shock had worn off there was an odd sense of relief. No one wanted war, still now the agonizing uncertainty was done, and the country knew where it stood now, not to mention it had a powerful ally in the French, and perhaps in due course the USA. A second expanded cadre was about to complete their training courtesy of the MTA. There were some 17 Matilda IIs in service [3], 11 Valentines undergoing trials [4], with full production gearing up, and somewhere around 20% of Mk VI B crews had transitioned to the Cruiser II, Cruiser IV and even a few who were learning the foibles of the Covenanter [5] as all available models were pressed into service. There was much grumbling as crews were reorganized and forced to learn the ins and outs of very different vehicles. The old military adage about sweat saving blood fully applied to this transition. Teething troubles with the tanks would be ironed out, crews learned how to handle the vehicles effectively, and mechanics acquired both the tools and expertise in keeping them running, with this knowledge being refined and passed along as more crews made the transition.

Those producing the tanks were likewise facing a learning curve and after September there would be a steady increase in output as the companies refined and streamlined the manufacturing process. The same could be said for Universal Carriers, Dingoes, military trucks and all manner of weapons and military equipment. This would all bear fruit for Britain in the prosecution of the war, but the man who had instigated it all would reap no benefit at all. All that faced Neville Chamberlain was a final agonizing decline, both physical and politically.

[1] The Wikipedia page about this bizarre event:

Gleiwitz incident

[2] In OTL this may have been apocryphal, here it definitely happened.

[3] This compares to an entire 2 that were operational in OTL September 1939

[4] Compared with none in OTL

[5} And obviously this is a lot more Cruiser Tanks than OTL
 
Even now Hitler wanted to present Germany as the wronged party, creating a ‘false flag’ attack on the radio station at Gleiwitz, which was farcical on multiple levels, being badly executed and convincing no one despite the best efforts of the Reich’s propaganda machine
Hitler: "Come on, it was totally Poland. Would I lie about this?"
Everyone else: "YES!"

Teething troubles with the tanks would be ironed out, crews learned how to handle the vehicles effectively, and mechanics acquired both the tools and expertise in keeping them running, with this knowledge being refined and passed along as more crews made the transition.
Well! The odds are, this is going to make quite a significant difference in TTL Battle of France... Assuming there is still one?

All that faced Neville Chamberlain was a final agonizing decline, both physical and politically.
Poor Chamberlain, in the end trying to do the right thing and yet not going out with a bang but with sheer agony.
 

Garrison

Donor
Hitler: "Come on, it was totally Poland. Would I lie about this?"
Everyone else: "YES!"


Well! The odds are, this is going to make quite a significant difference in TTL Battle of France... Assuming there is still one?


Poor Chamberlain, in the end trying to do the right thing and yet not going out with a bang but with sheer agony.
Yes the Gleiwitz incident was ridiculous, but somehow typically Hitler and I think backs the idea he would have delayed Munich as he did here for the sake of propaganda. As to France, not a big reveal to say yes there is a Battle of France and yes Chamberlain is still doomed to ignominy because everyone will continue to measure him against yardstick of what he should have done. The next update will wrap up 1939 and take the TL into 1940, and anyone 'pining for the Fjords' won't have to wait too long.
 

Garrison

Donor
So a slight change of plans. I wrote what was meant to be Tuesday's update a few weeks ago and going back to I realized that I had dismissed the whole Saar Offensive in a couple of sentences. So I thought I better add a couple of paragraphs, which turned into a 1000 words. So Tuesday will be about the Saar Offensive and Thursday will be the Phoney War, which means the visit to Norway will be postponed until next weekend.
 
Even now Hitler wanted to present Germany as the wronged party, creating a ‘false flag’ attack on the radio station at Gleiwitz, which was farcical on multiple levels, being badly executed and convincing no one despite the best efforts of the Reich’s propaganda machine
I don't think that's quite right. Certainly the New York Times fell for it and was repeating the Reich's propaganda at the top of their paper, there were probably others less famous. Most proper journalists didn't believe a word of it, but the US press seemed to rely on Berlin correspondents who were... close... to the regime. If you were feeling generous you would say they had to self-edit in order to get past German censors and stayed close to the Nazis to get access and the big the stories, but those excuses cannot apply to editors safely sitting in New York.

So I think the Reich's propaganda did at least blur the issue in the first few days and create some confusion on quite what was happening, this was particularly effective among people who wanted an excuse to do nothing as they could say "Well, it's a complicated issue and we shouldn't rush to judge" or similar words.
 

Garrison

Donor
I don't think that's quite right. Certainly the New York Times fell for it and was repeating the Reich's propaganda at the top of their paper, there were probably others less famous. Most proper journalists didn't believe a word of it, but the US press seemed to rely on Berlin correspondents who were... close... to the regime. If you were feeling generous you would say they had to self-edit in order to get past German censors and stayed close to the Nazis to get access and the big the stories, but those excuses cannot apply to editors safely sitting in New York.

So I think the Reich's propaganda did at least blur the issue in the first few days and create some confusion on quite what was happening, this was particularly effective among people who wanted an excuse to do nothing as they could say "Well, it's a complicated issue and we shouldn't rush to judge" or similar words.
Interesting if I do decide to turn this into a Kindle book at some point I will have to work that in, thank you.
 
7th September – 13th October 1939 – The Saar Offensive

Garrison

Donor
7th September – 13th October 1939 – The Saar Offensive

Much was expected from the French Saar offensive launched on the 7th of September. The plan called for some forty French divisions, including one armoured and three mechanized, to cross the German border and advance to the defences of what the Allies referred to as the Siegfried Line, but was called the Westwall by the Germans. There they would consolidate and launch a further attack to break through and drive deep into Germany, compelling the Germans to divert substantial forces to meet the attack. Some optimists hoped that it might force the Germans to make peace and spell the end for Hitler’s regime. On the other hand, there were far more people still deeply anxious about the prospect of devastating Luftwaffe raids on London and Paris. London had little to fear at this point, Paris was a different matter being well within range of Luftwaffe airfields. Obviously both the French were still overestimating both the size of the Luftwaffe and the capabilities of air power in general. There was also the fact that the bulk of the Luftwaffe was committed to the attack on Poland. London and Paris were safe, for the moment.

What should have been of far greater concern to those in authority was the sluggish progress of French mobilization, which was very much moving to the rhythms of 1914 rather than 1939. The strategy employed by the French was also very definitely that of World War I, emphasizing the concentration of heavy artillery to break down defences and the ‘bite and hold’ tactics, which meant taking limited objectives, repelling counterattacks and bring the artillery forward to support the attack on the next objective. Such tactics seem archaic to modern eyes, they were though used to great effect in 1918 and importantly from the French perspective they helped to conserve manpower. Artillery and armour were meant to clear the way for the infantry to advance and take their objectives and it should not be thought that the Wehrmacht had wholeheartedly embraced some revolution in strategy, the priority given to artillery and other weapons that had dominated the battlefields of the Western Front shows they were still by and large preparing for trench warfare, not grand sweeping armoured advances.

Still these tactics did not offer the prospect of the sort of rapid advance that might have put real pressure on the Reich, not one soldier would be diverted from Poland as the French slowly advanced to the line of the Westwall. In 1938 the Westwall had been little more than a line on a map. Hitler changed this by giving the project the highest priority and placing it in the hands of Fritz Todt, the man who had overseen the Autobahn project. Todt succeeded in turning the Westwall into a formidable array of defensive positions, not without causing much unhappiness among the Wehrmacht, industry, and the Reich Finance Ministry. The military and industry were unhappy about the quantity of raw materials and labour diverted to the project while the Finance Ministry was unhappy about the way Todt simply ignored the wage controls the ministry had put in place and offered what were seen as exorbitant pay rates. With the full support of Hitler Todt could easily dismiss such complaints and get the job done. [1]

Regardless of how much reinforced concrete had been poured and how many bunkers dug, such defences were only as good the troops manning them and the weapons at their disposal and in 1939 this was the area where the Westwall was deficient. Not only were the number of troops less than adequate there were question marks over their quality. In the attack on Poland the spearheads of the Heer had proven themselves every bit as capable as the Wehrmacht had hoped, the same could not be said for some of the second and third line units that followed up those spearheads. It would become very clear that many of these formations composed largely of recently called up reservists were lacking in training and discipline. These issues would be addressed in due course, but the troops entrusted with holding the Westwall were of similar quality to those second line formations.

What would have happened if the French had attacked the Westwall will remain forever a matter of speculation, the one thing that truly differentiated the French Army and the Heer in 1939 was energy. The leaders of the Heer expected their subordinates to show drive and initiative, the French General staff expected their officers in the field to act only in accordance with detailed orders emanating from on high, orders that were composed and relayed at a ponderous speed. Gamelin never seems to have envisioned his offensive as anything more than a token gesture, once it failed to force the Germans to divert troops to reinforce the Westwall he had no will to take the causalities potentially involved in breaking through the Westwall and once the Soviets attacked Poland from the east on the 17th of September it was clear that the Poles were finished and far from seeing the opportunity to drive deep into Germany and take the battle to the Wehrmacht Gamelin was deeply anxious about the Heer pivoting from Poland to launch a full scale counteroffensive against the French forces, potentially cutting them off their lines of retreat. Even had the Wehrmacht been able to mount such a rapid redeployment the munitions stockpiles of both the Heer and the Luftwaffe had been severely depleted by even the limited offensive in Poland, a major reason why OKH resisted Hitler’s demands for an offensive in the west in November 1939. [2]

With the linking up of German and Soviet forces on the 6th of October Gamelin ordered the full withdrawal of all forces in the Saar back to the Maginot Line. Even at the time there were those who argued against this decision, General Henri Giraud was very much against it and the British were not happy. They had deployed the first elements of the British Expeditionary Force (BEF) to France, emphasizing the dispatch of armour in the expectation of joining a general advance into Germany, now they found themselves being expected to aid in countering any German offensive in the west, being in due course fully integrated into the Dyle Plan, or Plan D, which was designed to halt a German advance through the Low Countries. This was plan which the Belgians themselves had not agreed to and yet it was on this that Gamelin would pin all his hopes.

With the ignominious end of the Saar Offensive the situation descended into what is commonly referred to as the ‘phoney war’, with its implication that little of importance happened during this time. This does a grave disservice to those who lost their lives during the winter of 1939-40.

[1] Todt tends to get overlooked quite often, mainly since Speer basically took credit for the plans Todt in put in place to improve efficiency in the war industries. Much more this topic the be found in ‘Wages of Destruction’.

[2] This was indeed Hitler’s original demand, astoundingly OKH successfully resisted him, not yet being quite the collection of yes men they became after the Fall of France.
 

Garrison

Donor
Thanks for the update. So no changes compared to OTL?
No, but I felt it was an event that tends to get a bit overlooked and deserved to have some details filled in. It also demonstrates that whatever the British are doing the French High Command is still thinking in almost purely defensive terms, think of it as tempering expectations. But in the same way that this one is very much OTL the next update on Thursday is full of butterflies as we get into the 'Phoney War' and Saturdays will be about the Altmark and Norway and will also have its fair share of differences from OTL.
 
7thth September – 17th January 1940 - The ‘Phoney War’

Garrison

Donor
7thth September – 17th January 1940 - The ‘Phoney War’

The phrase ‘Phoney War’ was best not mentioned in earshot of anyone serving in the British Merchant Marine in those opening months of World War II. Between September and December 1939 the Germans sank more than three hundred ships, with a commensurate loss of life. Some two thousand French troops had been killed or wounded during the abortive Saar Offensive and for the people of Poland the grim reality of occupation would make itself felt as the Nazis began to put into effect their plans to not merely erase Poland from the map of Europe but destroy the Poles as a people. Those under the control of the Soviets would fare only a little better, with those officers considered too dangerous to Soviet rule being ruthlessly massacred in the Katyn Forest in 1940. Soviet military action in 1939 did not stop at Poland. On November 30th, taking advantage of the secret terms included in the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, the USSR invaded Finland and started what has become known as the Winter War. The Finns would take some seventy thousand casualties, the Soviets between three and four hundred thousand by the time it ended in early 1940. The poor performance of the Red Army during the Winter War would simply confirm the low opinion of them held by the Wehrmacht and encourage Hitler’s plans for conquest in the east. On the Soviet side it would lead to a reorganization that restored conventional ranks and discipline, while reducing the role of the political commissars. This reform process would not be completed by the time Hitler decided that the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact had outlived its useful and put Operation Barbarossa into motion.

Scapa Flow had been reactivated as an anchorage for the Home Fleet with the outbreak of war. It was soon deemed too vulnerable to air attack and by the night of 13th-14th October much of the fleet had been dispersed to other harbours until the air defences could be upgraded. This was a fortuitous decision, though the attack that struck Scapa Flow was carried out not by the Luftwaffe but by the Kriegsmarine. U-47 was commanded by Korvettenkapitän Gunther Prien, who would go on to become one of the premier U-Boat aces before U-47 was sunk in March 1941 with the loss of all hands, he made his name with the bold attack on the ships anchored at Scapa Flow. Just after midnight U-47 entered the harbour and soon sighted two warships, one identified as a Revenge Class Battleship and the other as a Renown Class battlecruiser. Prien launched a spread of three torpedoes at the battleship and two struck home to devastating effect. Within minutes HMS Royal Oak was sinking, with its bewildered crew leaping overboard, many clad in nothing except their night clothes. Such was the confusion that it was initially assumed the ship had fallen victim to an internal explosion, so no search was launched for U-47. Realizing he was not being hunted Prien took the bold decisions to press home an attack on the Battlecruiser. This time only one of four torpedoes fired found its mark and struck the bows of the ship. This still did considerable damage but did not sink her, though Prien claimed otherwise, believing he had sunk both the battleship Royal Oak and the battlecruiser Repulse. At this point the base began to realize the harbour had been penetrated and Prien had to make good his escape. His insistent claim to have sunk Repulse and not merely damaged her was academic in any case as the ship in question was not Repulse or even a Battlecruiser, it was a World War I seaplane tender the Pegasus. The damage to the ship was severe enough that it was sent to a breakers yard in December [1].

The military impact of the attack was not significant for the Royal Navy. The sensational newspaper headlines it generated both in Britain and neutral countries, especially the USA, was another matter. Naturally there was elation over the success of the attack in Berlin, with Prien receiving the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross and being nicknamed ‘The Bull of Scapa Flow’. For Doenitz this an important success, he didn’t see an immediate increase in U-Boat production, but he did now have Hitler’s attention, which was the prerequisite to get anything done in the Third Reich. All this elation probably explains the failure of anyone, other than Prien himself, to question why half of U-47’s torpedoes had failed to hit home against anchored targets. It would be quite some time before the issues with the Kriegsmarine’s torpedoes were recognized, let alone fixed.

The British gained a large measure of revenge on the Kriegsmarine when a force of Royal Navy cruisers composed of HMS Ajax, HMS Achilles, HMS Exeter, and HMS Cumberland intercepted the Graf Spee off the River Plate on the 13th of December. In the battle that followed the Exeter would suffer fatal damage, sinking on the morning of the 14th after being abandoned the previous night. This was not enough to save Graf Spee. The attacks pressed home by all four Royal Navy vessels managed to damage Graf Spee’s steering controls, leaving her stuck in a slow turn to port. This allowed the three surviving Cruisers to hit Graf Spee with salvo after salvo, with one shell scoring a direct hit on the bridge, killing the Graf Spee’s captain, Kapitän zur See Hans Langsdorff, along with most of the ship’s senior officers. With Graf Spee badly damaged and lacking firm direction with the loss of Langsdorff the crew took the decision to scuttle their ship, in no small part because of a mistaken sighting that convinced them more Royal Navy ships were closing in. The smoke they spotted was in fact from the Exeter now just over the horizon, meaning that Exeter could claim to have played a vital part in the destruction of the German Pocket Battleship. British propaganda emphasized it was the gunfire of the cruisers that sank Graf Spee and the claims of the crew to have scuttled her were disputed for years, only being settled when Oceanographer Bob Ballard located her in 1994 [2].

One aspect of the battle that the British did their best to keep out of the media was that when the British ships began to recover survivors, they found British sailors among their ranks. These were the crews from of some of the merchant ships the Graf Spee had sunk and it was soon clear that many of them had perished in the battle. Others had been luckier in that they had been transferred to the German Merchantman Altmark well before the battle and were on their way to be interned in Germany, though they would not reach a German port and the circumstances of their rescue would have significant consequences for the Allies, the Axis, and neutral Norway [3].

One of the stranger incidents of the period occurred near Mechelen in Belgium, when a German Me108 crashed at the airfield there. The pilot, Major Erich Hoenmanns, survived and between his interrogation and inspection of the wreckage it was established that not only had Hoenmanns become lost, he had also somehow cut off the fuel supply to the engine by mistakenly moving a lever in the cockpit. Given this unlikely chain of events some even speculated that Hoenmanns was trying to defect and had lost his nerve at the last moment, a claim vehemently denied by Hoenmanns himself.

It was only years after the war that evidence emerged that the ‘Mechelen Incident’ could have been far more serious for the Wehrmacht than the loss of one officer. Being interviewed for a history of the Battle of France Major Helmuth Reinberger claimed that the evening before the incident he had been having a drink in the officer’s mess and run into Hoenmanns, who had offered Reinberger a ride since he was planning to log some flying hours the following day and Reinberger was facing a tedious train journey to Cologne for a staff meeting. This offer was very tempting according to the account Reinberger gave the interviewer. However, Reinberger also stated that he had concluded that given the amount Hoenmanns was drinking he would be in no fit state to fly in the morning and so he declined the offer. This was not only fortunate for Reinberger, assuming the incident would still have happened with him aboard, but according to him also avoided the highly classified documents he was due to carry from falling into Belgian hands, among which were papers detailing parts of the German plan for the attack in the west, Case Yellow.

Naturally the idea that the French might have gotten their hands on a copy of the German battle plan in January sparked a great deal of interest and Hoenmanns was asked to verify the story, which he did, with the exception that he claimed it had been Reinberger who had gotten drunk and failed to wake up in time having accepted the offer. It must be said though that a hangover would be a more plausible explanation for Hoenmanns actions on the 17th of January than a botched defection, though in either case it was clear that Reinberger missed the flight by luck more than judgement. Surviving Wehrmacht records confirm that Reinberger did indeed attend a staff meeting in Cologne around that time and that in his capacity as the supply officer for 7. Flieger-Division he did carry papers dealing with the Division’s objectives for Case Yellow [4].

As dramatic as such an intelligence coup might seem its true value remains a matter of debate, with a strong case being made that it would have made only a marginal difference in the Battle of France, barely altering the existing Dyle Plan in May, and having no effect whatsoever on the events of July and August 1940 [5].

[1] In OTL Prien did not make an attack on Pegasus, which had indeed bee misidentified as a Battlecruiser.

[2] So in OTL Cumberland didn’t arrive until after the battle. Here with somewhat more RN resources available she was part of the hunting group, which presses Graf Spee harder, resulting in more damage to Exeter, which survived OTL, and the Graf Spee being scuttled at sea rather than when leaving Montevideo.

[3] Which will be the subject of the next update.

[4] So all those elements happened in OTL, Reinberger just ran into Hoenmanns in the mess, Hoenmanns happened to be flying the next morning, got lost and accidentally cut off fuel to the engine. I decided it would take a very small butterfly to break the chain of circumstance and I chose the one that I liked best, though at one point I did consider having Hoenmanns not cut off the fuel and make a last-minute escape.

[5] Yes July and August, make of that what you will…
 

Garrison

Donor
French Got plans for Case Yellow?
In OTL yes, of course this wasn't the same plan that was carried out in May. The plan the French got their hands on was for exactly the sort of attack through the Low Countries they expected, which just reinforced their refusal to contemplate alternatives. How much of a role knowing the plan might have been compromised played in the Germans embracing the 'Sickle Cut' version has been debated. Overall for this TL I am assuming it had at least some impact, but there are other butterflies that will influence the Battle of France, besides obviously a better armed and trained BEF.
 

Garrison

Donor
But somehow Barbarossa is mentionned here...Hmm...
Yes because things will be quite different here, just not different enough for Hitler to postpone his masterplan. As I said at the beginning this is basically a Britwank and while it will start slowly the conditions for the British will be considerably better by the time we reach 1942, I cannot promise the same for some of the other combatants, be they Axis or Allied. Of course if anyone was interested in creating a French or Soviet wank based on the same initial premise, that would be fine with me.
 
Yes because things will be quite different here, just not different enough for Hitler to postpone his masterplan. As I said at the beginning this is basically a Britwank and while it will start slowly the conditions for the British will be considerably better by the time we reach 1942, I cannot promise the same for some of the other combatants, be they Axis or Allied. Of course if anyone was interested in creating a French or Soviet wank based on the same initial premise, that would be fine with me.
Well, as little as France fighting on from Algiers would still make a huge difference for Britain, and even bigger for France.
 

The one man who would have revelled in taking up the mantle in exactly those circumstances had to content himself with the role of First Lord of the Admiralty, promoting a dispatch to the fleet, ‘Winston’s back!’ [2].
The big question on that statement is..

Winston's back...good

or

Winston's back...oh shit
 
February 1940 – April 1940 - The Altmark and Norway

Garrison

Donor
February 1940 – April 1940 - The Altmark and Norway

The last act of the Graf Spee affair played out on the 15th of February when the tanker Altmark passed into neutral Norwegian waters. The ship was not carrying fuel, but survivors from several of the ships sunk by Graf Spee. Transporting POWs through neutral waters was not a violation of international law but under considerable pressure the Norwegians did intercept the ship and search it, not once but twice. The first search was conducted by the torpedo boat, HNoMS Trygg, which failed to discover the presence of some 300 POWs for the simple reason that they failed to inspect the hold. The official reason for this was that the search party believed the hold was full of oil. This peculiar piece of logic has prompted many to speculate that crew of the Trygg found what they wanted to find. Its possible someone in higher authority shared this sentiment because the Trygg was promptly ordered to conduct a second search, this time the results were very different [1]. Varying versions of what happened exist, what seems to be generally agreed up is that some of the prisoners managed to make enough noise to prompt some of the Norwegian sailors to insist on investigating and when they went to open the hold a scuffle broke out that rapidly escalated to a full-blown brawl with fists, impromptu clubs and knives being used. There were casualties on both sides, but the arrival of reinforcements from the Trygg carrying pistols allowed the Altmark to be secured. At this point the niceties of transporting prisoners were academic, the lies told by the Altmark crew and the injuries to the Norwegian boarding party, which would prove fatal in one case, were enough to incline the Norwegians to intern the ship. This was fortunate as a short time later the British destroyer HMS Cossack arrived and requested to put a party aboard the Altmark and inspect the condition of the prisoners. As the prisoners aboard the Altmark were becoming distinctly fractious over whether they would be repatriated or possibly left aboard if Altmark were somehow allowed to continue its journey, the Norwegians accepted the suggestion, albeit reluctantly. The Royal Navy contingent remained aboard as the Norwegians sailed the Altmark to Bergen with the Cossack falling into formation as not wholly welcome escort.

In London the reaction was one of satisfaction and relief. Orders had been issued from Admiralty House to board the Altmark and liberate the prisoners even if the Norwegians resisted, regardless of the potentially disastrous diplomatic consequences of doing so. Avoiding having to make that choice while still being able to free the prisoners was seen as a triumph and a rare piece of good news for the Chamberlain government, which was increasingly coming under attack for what was perceived as a lacklustre prosecution of the war. What political credit there had been from the sinking of the Graf Spee was being conspicuously directed to the First Lord of the Admiralty, indeed many attributed the Norwegian willingness to confront the Altmark as being the result of the more aggressive stance of the Navy under Churchill’s guidance. Even so, at this point the possibility that Churchill might be the next occupant of No.10 still seemed remote enough that even those who were appalled by that idea continued their criticism of Chamberlain’s conduct of the war. The seizure of the Altmark may no have shored up Chamberlain’s position but it did serve to allay some of the fears in Whitehall that Norway were being coerced into favouring the Nazi’s in their diplomatic dealings.

In Berlin the reaction was different to say the least. Hitler was incandescent and Goebbels launched a full-scale propaganda assault on the Norwegians. They were accused of ‘piracy’, of ‘blatantly colluding with the British’, and ‘showing their neutrality as nothing but a smokescreen’. Most ominous was the pronouncement by Hitler himself that Norway’s actions had, ‘forced Germany to fundamentally reconsider their policy towards that nation. If they choose to commit violence against Germany, they could expect violence in return’ [2].

All this rhetoric alarmed the Norwegian government as it was doubtless intended to. This was further ratcheted up by the theory, which may have originated with British intelligence, that the Altmark incident had been a deliberate provocation designed to provide a pretext for a German invasion and the occupation of Narvik, the key port in the supply of Swedish Iron ore to Germany. If this did originate with British Intelligence then it was at least partially successful as the Norwegians began to to explore the possibilities of some sort of defence agreement with the Allies, even if it were nothing more than a pledge to protect Norwegian neutrality in the event of a German attack, this time backed by the might of the Royal Navy rather than the warm words Poland had received.

From the Norwegian perspective this was no more than a tentative idea, with substantial internal resistance. The British however rather overestimated the scale of the shift in Norwegian attitudes and decided to send the infantry component of the 49th (West Riding) Infantry Division, consisting of the 146th (1st West Riding), 147th (2nd West Riding) Brigade and 148th (3rd West Riding) Brigades, to the Highlands for winter training so they could be ready if the Norwegians did choose to align themselves with the Allies [3]. This rather hurried arrangement meant the units would face miserable conditions with inadequate shelter and all too often cold field rations. As it turned out this was excellent practice for the conditions they would face when they were indeed deployed. The other important benefit of this hasty training was the awkward realization than soldiers in Khaki did not blend well into a snowy background and so hasty efforts were made to address the problem. A supply of hooded smocks was hastily dyed along with some outsize pyjama bottoms to act as over trousers. Much to the chagrin of many an NCO troops were also instructed to apply whitewash to their boots. It was a rough and ready solution, but as would prove to be the case many times during war rough and ready was considerably better than nothing.

[1] In OTL the Norwegians searched the Altmark THREE times and found nothing. I have charitably decided to chalk that up to ineptitude rather than malice and allowed for them being at least marginally competent here.

[2] Invented quote.

[3] The 146th and the 148th were indeed dispatched to Norway OTL, though obviously with rather less preparation, the 147th was retained in the UK, here it gets to join its fellow Yorkshire Brigades.
 
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