Read Online Churchill's Hour by Michael Dobbs - Free Book Online

him to travel, but that makes your position here of even greater significance. I don’t think it an exaggeration to say that a wholeworld might depend upon it. It’s one of my great sorrows that I have not yet met Mr Roosevelt, but, in you, I know I have a friend who will bring us together in thought as well as deed. You must be my mirror into his mind.’
    The words struck Winant as strange because, of course, Churchill had met Roosevelt, many years before. The old man seemed to have forgotten, but Roosevelt hadn’t. It had been 1918, at an official dinner in London. The occasion hadn’t been an unqualified success; Churchill had been both voluble and a little vulgar, and when Roosevelt returned from the dinner he told his colleagues that Churchill was nothing less than ‘a stinker’. It was a story that Joe Kennedy had paddled all around Washington, and so keenly that Winant was surprised the old man hadn’t been reminded of it. But then, given the nature of the story, it was perhaps no surprise at all.
    â€˜I have very clear instructions, Prime Minister—forgive me: Winston,’ the ambassador said as the valet poured more whisky. ‘The President has instructed me to tell you that we shall do everything within our power to help you win this war.’
    â€˜That is more than I had dared hope—’
    â€˜Short of declaring war ourselves, of course.’
    â€˜Ah.’ Churchill thrust his own glass towards Sawyers.
    â€˜The Lend-Lease Bill will be through Congress ina few days; you know the President’s set to sign it. Soon we’ll be able to send you all those tools you asked for to finish the job.’
    The ambassador had intended the words as encouragement, but for a moment Churchill’s expression suggested he’d just smashed his finger with a hammer.
    â€˜You know, Winston, your broadcast came as a profound relief to many Americans. Ridiculous, I know, but there are still those who suspect you of wanting to find some means of getting us involved in another European shooting match.’
    A gentle warning shot across the bow. There were many in the United States who still gave kitchen space to tittle-tattle that Churchill was bent on repeating the history of the last war, when a reluctant America had been dragged into the conflict three years after it had started as a result of the sinking of a number of ships by U-boats. The most notable loss had been the passenger ship Lusitania. More than a thousand souls had gone down with her, many of them American, and hundreds of thousands were to follow. Some blamed Churchill personally for this, suggesting he’d as good as arranged the U-boat attack in order to shame the United States out of its isolation. Many Americans still sat round their fires talking of the untrustworthy English.
    Churchill stirred uneasily, eager to move on.‘What of the Far East, Gil? It has been occupying my mind. We cannot rest content while Japan conducts a campaign of slaughter and genocide that is every bit the equal in savagery to Hitler’s.’
    â€˜But in China.’
    â€˜Such savagery never knows its bounds. It will not confine itself to China. Where will it turn to next? To French Indo-China? To the Dutch East Indies? To our own colonies of Hong Kong and Singapore, even India? There are vast riches waiting for them there.’
    â€˜Which is why, presumably, they are already colonies. And why the European powers would fight once more to retain them.’ Winant seemed so much more composed face to face than in front of an audience. And he knew his master’s mind. Churchill decided he would be a most effective ambassador, and was not a man he should underestimate.
    â€˜I must tell you, Gil, in all seriousness, what I have written to the President.’ Churchill turned to his glass, sipping, swirling, as though trying to wash away some foul taste, before staring at the American. ‘I told Mr