IT was Sunday evening, December 7, 1941. Winant and Averell Harriman were alone with me at the table at Chequers. I turned on my small wireless set shortly after the nine o’clock news had started. There were a number of items about the fighting on the Russian front and on the British front in Libya, at the end of which some few sentences were spoken regarding an attack by the Japanese on American shipping at Hawaii, and also Japanese attacks on British vessels in the Dutch East Indies. There followed a statement that after the news Mr. Somebody would make a commentary, and that the Brains Trust programme would then begin, or something like this. I did not personally sustain any direct impression, but Averell said there was something about the Japanese attacking the Americans, and, in spite of being tired and resting, we all sat up. By now the butler, Sawyers, who had heard what had passed, came into the room, saying, “It’s quite true. We heard it ourselves outside. The Japanese have attacked the Americans.” There was a silence. At the Mansion House luncheon on November 11 I had said that if Japan attacked the United States a British declaration of war would follow “within the hour”. I got up from the table and walked through the hall to the office, which was always at work. I asked for a call to the President. The Ambassador followed me out, and, imagining I was about to take some irrevocable step, said, “Don’t you think you’d better get confirmation first?”
In two or three minutes Mr. Roosevelt came through. “Mr. President, what’s this about Japan?” “It’s quite true,” he replied. “They have attacked us at Pearl Harbour. We are all in the same boat now.” I put Winant on to the line and some interchanges took place, the Ambassador at first saying, “Good,” “Good”—and then, apparently graver, “Ah!”. I got on again and said, “This certainly simplifies things. God be with you,” or words to that effect. We then went back into the hall and tried to adjust our thoughts to the supreme world event which had occurred, which was of so startling a nature as to make even those who were near the centre gasp. My two American friends took the shock with admirable fortitude. We had no idea that any serious losses had been inflicted on the United States Navy. They did not wail or lament that their country was at war. They wasted no words in reproach or sorrow. In fact, one might almost have thought they had been delivered from a long pain.
Parliament would not have met till Tuesday, and the Members were scattered about the Island, with all the existing difficulties of communication. I set the office to work to ring up the Speaker, the Whips, and others concerned, to call both Houses together next day. I rang the Foreign Office to prepare to implement without a moment’s delay a declaration of war upon Japan, about which there were some formalities, in time for the meeting of the House, and to make sure all members of the War Cabinet were called up and informed, and also the Chiefs of Staff and the Service Ministers, who, I rightly assumed, had had the news.
No American will think it wrong of me if I proclaim that to have the United States at our side was to me the greatest joy. I could not foretell the course of events. I do not pretend to have measured accurately the martial might of Japan, but now at this very moment I knew the United States was in the war, up to the neck and in to the death. So we had won after all! Yes, after Dunkirk; after the fall of France; after the horrible episode of Oran; after the threat of invasion, when, apart from the Air and the Navy, we were an almost unarmed people; after the deadly struggle of the U-boat war—the first Battle of the Atlantic, gained by a hand’s-breadth; after seventeen months of lonely fighting and nineteen months of my responsibility in dire stress. We had won the war. England would live; Britain would live; the Commonwealth of Nations and the Empire would live. How long the war would last or in what fashion it would end no man could tell, nor did I at this moment care. Once again in our long Island history we should emerge, however mauled or mutilated, safe and victorious. We should not be wiped out. Our history would not come to an end. We might not even have to die as individuals. Hitler’s fate was sealed. Mussolini’s fate was sealed. As for the Japanese, they would be ground to powder. All the rest was merely the proper application of overwhelming force. The British Empire, the Soviet Union, and now the United States, bound together with every scrap of their life and strength, were, according to my lights, twice or even thrice the force of their antagonists. No doubt it would take a long time. I expected terrible forfeits in the East; but all this would be merely a passing phase. United we could subdue everybody else in the world. Many disasters, immeasurable cost and tribulation lay ahead, but there was no more doubt about the end.
Silly people, and there were many, not only in enemy countries, might discount the force of the United States. Some said they were soft, others that they would never be united. They would fool around at a distance. They would never come to grips. They would never stand blood-letting. Their democracy and system of recurrent elections would paralyse their war effort. They would be just a vague blur on the horizon to friend or foe. Now we should see the weakness of this numerous but remote, wealthy, and talkative people. But I had studied the American Civil War, fought out to the last desperate inch. American blood flowed in my veins. I thought of a remark which Edward Grey had made to me more than thirty years before—that the United States is like “a gigantic boiler. Once the fire is lighted under it there is no limit to the power it can generate”. Being saturated and satiated with emotion and sensation, I went to bed and slept the sleep of the saved and thankful.
As soon as I woke I decided to go over at once to see Roosevelt. I put the matter to the Cabinet when we met at noon. On obtaining their approval I wrote to the King, and his Majesty gave his Assent.
The War Cabinet authorised the immediate declaration of war upon Japan, for which all formal arrangements had been made. As Eden had already started on a journey to Moscow and I was in charge of the Foreign Office I sent the following letter to the Japanese Ambassador:
Foreign Office, December 8th
Sir,
On the evening of December jth His Majesty’s Government in the United Kingdom learned that Japanese forces without previous warning either in the form of a declaration of war or of an ultimatum with a conditional declaration of war had attempted a landing on the coast of Malaya and bombed Singapore and Hong Kong.
In view of these wanton acts of unprovoked aggression committed in flagrant violation of International Law and particularly of Article 1 of the Third Hague Convention relative to the opening of hostilities, to which both Japan and the United Kingdom are parties, His Majesty’s Ambassador at Tokyo has been instructed to inform the Imperial Japanese Government in the name of His Majesty’s Government in the United Kingdom that a state of war exists between our two countries.
I have the honour to be, with high consideration,
Sir,
Your obedient servant,
WINSTON S. CHURCHILL
Some people did not like this ceremonial style. But after all when you have to kill a man it costs nothing to be polite.
Parliament met at 3 p.m., and in spite of the shortness of notice the House was full. Under the British Constitution the Crown declares war on the advice of Ministers, and Parliament is confronted with the fact. We were therefore able to be better than our word to the United States, and actually declared war upon Japan before Congress could act. The Royal Netherlands Government had also made their declaration. Both Houses voted unanimously in favour of the decision.
We were not told for some time any details of what had happened at Pearl Harbour, but the story has now been exhaustively recorded. Until early in 1941 the Japanese naval plan for war against the United States was for their main fleet to give battle in the waters near the Philippines when the Americans, as might be expected, fought their way across the Pacific to relieve their garrison in this outpost. The idea of a surprise attack on Pearl Harbour originated in the brain of Admiral Yamamoto, the Japanese Commander-in-Chief. Preparation for this treacherous blow before any declaration of war went forward with the utmost secrecy, and by November 22 the striking force of six carriers, with supporting battleships and cruisers, was concentrated in an unfrequented anchorage in the Kurile Islands, north of Japan proper. Already the date of the attack had been fixed for Sunday, December 7, and on November 26 (East longitude date) the force sailed under the command of Admiral Nagumo. Keeping far to the northward of Hawaii, amidst the fog and gales of these northern latitudes, Nagumo approached his goal undetected. Before sunrise on the fateful day the attack was launched from a position about 275 miles to the north of Pearl Harbour. Three hundred and sixty aircraft took part, comprising bombers of all types, escorted by fighters. At 7.55 a.m. the first bomb fell. Ninety-four ships of the United States Navy were present in the harbour. Among them the eight battleships of the Pacific Fleet were the prime targets. The carriers, with strong cruiser forces, were fortunately absent on missions elsewhere. By 10 a.m. the battle was over and the enemy withdrew. Behind them lay a shattered fleet hidden in a pall of fire and smoke, and the vengeance of the United States. The battleship Arizona had blown up, the Oklahoma had capsized, the West Virginia and California had sunk at their moorings, and every other battleship, except the Pennsylvania, which was in dry dock, had been heavily damaged. Over two thousand Americans had lost their lives, and nearly two thousand others were wounded. The mastery of the Pacific had passed into Japanese hands, and the strategic balance of the world was for the time being fundamentally changed.
In the Philippines, where General MacArthur commanded, our American Allies had yet another set of misfortunes. A warning indicating a grave turn in diplomatic relations had been received on November 20. Admiral Hart, commanding the modest United States Asiatic Fleet, had already been in consultation with the adjacent British and Dutch naval authorities, and, in accordance with his war plan, had begun to disperse his forces to the southward, where he intended to assemble a striking force in Dutch waters in conjunction with his prospective allies. He had at his disposal only one heavy and two light cruisers, besides a dozen old destroyers and various auxiliary vessels. His strength lay almost entirely in his submarines, of which he had twenty-eight. At 3 a.m. on December 8 Admiral Hart intercepted a message giving the staggering news of the attack on Pearl Harbour. He at once warned all concerned that hostilities had begun, without waiting for confirmation from Washington. At dawn the Japanese dive-bombers struck, and throughout the ensuing days the air attacks continued on an ever-increasing scale. On the 10th the naval base at Cavite was completely destroyed by fire, and on the same day the Japanese made their first landing in the north of Luzon. Disasters mounted swiftly. Most of the American air forces were destroyed in battle or on the ground, and by December 20 the remnants had been withdrawn to Port Darwin, in Australia. Admiral Hart’s ships had begun their southward dispersal some days before, and only the submarines remained to dispute the sea with the enemy. On December 21 the main Japanese invasion force landed in Lingayen Gulf, threatening Manila itself, and thereafter the march of events was not unlike that which was already in progress in Malaya; but the defence was more prolonged. Thus the long-nurtured plans of Japan exploded in a blaze of triumph.
Both Hitler and his staff were astonished. Jodl tells at his trial how Hitler “came in the middle of the night to my chart room [in East Prussia] in order to transmit this news to Field-Marshal Keitel and myself. He was completely surprised”. On the morning of December 8 however he gave the German Navy orders to attack American ships wherever found. This was three days before the official declaration of war by Germany on the United States.
I convened a meeting, mostly Admiralty, in the Cabinet War Room at ten o’clock on the night of the 9th to review the naval position. We were about a dozen. We tried to measure the consequences of this fundamental change in our war position against Japan. We had lost the command of every ocean except the Atlantic. Australia and New Zealand and all the vital islands in their sphere were open to attack. We had only one key weapon in our hands. The Prince of Wales and the Repulse had arrived at Singapore. They had been sent to these waters to exercise that kind of vague menace which capital ships of the highest quality whose whereabouts is unknown can impose upon all hostile naval calculations. How should we use them now? Obviously they must go to sea and vanish among the innumerable islands. There was general agreement on that.
17 + s.w.w.
I thought myself they should go across the Pacific to join what was left of the American Fleet. It would be a proud gesture at this moment, and would knit the English-speaking world together. We had already cordially agreed to the American Navy Department withdrawing their capital ships from the Atlantic. Thus in a few months there might be a fleet in being on the west coast of America capable of fighting a decisive sea battle if need be. The existence of such a fleet and of such a fact would be the best possible shield to our brothers in Australasia. We were all much attracted by this line of thought. But as the hour was late we decided to sleep on it, and settle the next morning what to do with the Prince of Wales and the Repulse.
Within a couple of hours they were at the bottom of the sea.
I was opening my boxes on the 10th when the telephone at my bedside rang. It was the First Sea Lord. His voice sounded odd. He gave a sort of cough and gulp, and at first I could not hear quite clearly. “Prime Minister, I have to report to you that the Prince of Wales and the Repulse have both been sunk by the Japanese—we think by aircraft. Tom Phillips is drowned.” “Are you sure it’s true?” “There is no doubt at all.” So I put the telephone down. I was thankful to be alone. In all the war I never received a more direct shock. The reader of these pages will realise how many efforts, hopes, and plans foundered with these two ships. As I turned over and twisted in bed the full horror of the news sank in upon me. There were no British or American capital ships in the Indian Ocean or the Pacific except the American survivors of Pearl Harbour, who were hastening back to California. Over all this vast expanse of waters Japan was supreme, and we everywhere were weak and naked.
I went down to the House of Commons as soon as they met at eleven that morning to tell them myself what had happened, and next day I made them a full statement upon the new situation. There was much anxiety and not a little discontent with the long-drawn battle in Libya, which evidently hung in the balance. I did not at all conceal the prospect that very severe punishment awaited us at the hands of Japan. On the other hand, the Russian victories had revealed the fatal error of Hitler’s Eastern campaign, and winter was still to assert its power. The U-boat war was at the moment under control, and our losses greatly reduced. Finally, four-fifths of the world were now fighting on our side. Ultimate victory was certain. In this sense I spoke.
I used the coldest form of factual narration, avoiding all promises of early success. The House was very silent, and seemed to hold its judgment in suspense. I did not seek or expect more.