King George VI was generally kept well informed about the progress of the Second World War by his Government, with the relevant ministerial minutes and other documentation being passed to His Majesty’s Private Secretary, Sir Alan Lascelles, via the Cabinet Office. Thus, in the build-up to D Day and the Allied landings in Normandy, the King-who was punctilious about ‘doing his boxes’-was already very much ‘in the loop’. Indeed, he wrote to his kinsman, Dickie Mountbatten, on 19 March, to say ‘the coming events are very much in my mind and I have been seeing troops every week who will be engaged in them.’ Furthermore, in February, George VI had observed one of the British General Vian’s training exercises.

However, prior to the operations, His Majesty was involved in other matters. Firstly, Princess Elizabeth celebrated her 18th birthday, on 21 April, with a low-key family lunch at the Palace. The King had already asked for and obtained an amendment to be made to the 1937 Regency Act so to allow the heiress presumptive to serve as a member of the Council of State, should the need arise. Secondly, His Majesty was much occupied with entertaining Prime Ministers of the Empire who were attending an Imperial Conference in London which commenced on 1 May (George VI hosted a dinner at Buckingham Palace that evening). This duty done, the King then took a train northwards, on 9 May, to inspect his fleet at Scapa Flow in Orkney; this included an interesting inspection trip aboard the aircraft carrier HMS Victorious. He returned to London on 14 May.

The following day, the King was finally able to focus on the forthcoming landings in France (“Operation Overlord”) when he visited General Montgomery’s headquarters at St Paul’s School for a final briefing. Apart from the military ‘top brass ‘; other guests included Winston Churchill and Field Marshal Jan Smuts, the South African Prime Minister. To Lascelles astonishment, after the top-level meeting had ended, the normally reticent King rose to his feet and made an impromptu speech which Montgomery would later describe in his diary as ‘absolutely first class, quite short and exactly right’.

During one of their weekly lunches at Buckingham Palace, on 30 May, Churchill informed the King that he proposed to observe the opening stages of “Overlord” from a one of the bombarding destroyers, HMS Belfast, off the French coast. Indeed, the Prime Minister apparently informed his Assistant Private Secretary, John (‘Jock’) Colville ‘What fun it would be to get there before Monty.’ This debonair gesture must have appealed to the sailor in George VI (who had after all served as a midshipman aboard HMS Collingwood at the Battle of Jutland in 1916) and he indicated he would do likewise. However, when Lascelles learned of his Sovereign’s intentions, he was horrified and immediately brought the King back down to earth by asking him if he thought this was fair to the Queen; and also questioned whether His Majesty was prepared to face the ordeal of offering (advance) advice to Princess Elizabeth on the choice of her first Prime Minister, in case the King and Churchill were both ‘sent to the bottom of the English channel.’ Lascelles pointed out too that the presence of the King and the Prime Minister might have a ‘paralysing effect’ on ‘the unfortunate captain of the ship.’ However, Churchill was not to be so easily dissuaded, despite the King, the following day, writing in his own hand to his Prime Minister at 10 Downing Street-the letter being delivered personally by Lascelles- firstly mentioning his own change of position about going-and asking Winston ‘in all seriousness’ to ‘reconsider your plan.’ His Majesty observed that ,’ I don’t think I need emphasise what it would mean personally, and to the whole Allied cause, if at this juncture a chance bomb, torpedo or even a mine, should remove you from the scene.’

By now aware it was ascertained that HMS Belfast would be flying the flag of Admiral Sir Frederick Dalrymple-Hamilton, who was to command the ships involved in the D-Day bombardment. The King decided to make use of a meeting with Churchill, on 1 June, at the Downing Street Annexe at Storey’s Gate, to engage the services of Admiral Sir Bertram Ramsay (the Naval Commander-in-Chief of “Overlord”). Ramsay knew only of Churchill’s plans and nothing of the King’s previous intentions. The Admiral emphasised that any passenger aboard the Belfast would run considerable risks from mines and torpedoes; as well as from air attacks and shelling from the German shores batteries. Furthermore, the Belfast would be 14,000 yards [8 miles] from the French shore, so those on board would see little to compensate for the aforementioned dangers. Churchill would also be quite inaccessible at a time when vital decisions would require to be made rapidly, for the Prime Minister was also the Minister of Defence. Yet, Churchill remained determined to go, regardless of the King’s letter and Ramsay’s warnings. Lascelles, who was also present at Storey’s Gate, was in despair and frankly informed the King that ‘ it is not going to make things easier for you if you have to find a new Prime Minister in the middle of “Overlord”‘. The King now regarded Churchill’s mission as a ‘joy ride’, but Churchill pointed out that ‘this [latest trip] was nothing’ he having successfully flown to the USA, the Middle East, Moscow and Tehran, in addition to having crossed the Atlantic by sea. Later, the King conferred with General ‘Pug’ Ismay, Churchill’s Staff Officer and chief military adviser and established that he too was unhappy at the Prime Minister’s attitude. His Majesty then drove down to Windsor Castle, taking Lascelles with him. They both fretted over the day’s happenings and Churchill’s ‘selfish’ attitude; not to mention their inability to influence him.

Perhaps shaken by the gathering opposition to his proposed time aboard Belfast, on 2 June, on being informed that by General Ismay that Churchill was ‘wobbling’, the King decided to write a second letter to his Prime Minister again appealing to him to review his position. The crux of the letter was that it was very unjust that the Prime Minister, having advised the King against going, should then go himself and in effect, as Lascelles notes ‘steal the King’s thunder.’ Churchill’s presence would also, the King observed, ‘add immeasurably to my own anxieties.’ This was sent by dispatch rider to 10 Downing Street, just prior to the Prime Minister commencing his journey to Hampshire overnight by special train. However, having heard nothing from Churchill by 11pm that evening, George VI informed Lascelles that he intended to drive down to the English coast at dawn to personally ensure that his Prime Minister did not go to sea on D-Day. The King’s main concern was that Winston was an indispensable part of the overall war machine and that the trip involved a totally unnecessary risk to his life. Eventually, an alarmed Lascelles reached Churchill by telephone aboard his train. The premier gave the monarch’s Private Secretary a verbal assurance that he would now abandon his nautical jaunt. Meanwhile, Lascelles also informed the King about the conversation over the telephone. The Prime Minister later backed up his verbal assurance with a written pledge to the Sovereign to ‘defer to Your Majesty’s wishes, and indeed commands’ although he also pushed-back somewhat by indicating that ‘I must earnestly ask Your Majesty that no principle shall be laid down which inhibits my freedom of movement’. This letter was sent up to the King on the morning of 3 June as he was about to partake of breakfast. Lascelles took the view that ‘we have bested [Churchill]’ though George VI would never have thought along those lines or used such a superior tone.

Meanwhile, on 4 June, the Supreme Allied Commander, General Dwight D. Eisenhower, decided to postpone D Day from 5 June to the following day as high winds and heavy seas would make it impossible to launch landing craft, while low clouds would prevent aircraft from finding their targets. The King was perturbed by this, for the sake of the sailors and soldiers, who he knew from his own previous wartime experience, were enduring cramped conditions aboard each vessel. In the interim, came one good piece of news was that the Allies had entered Rome. On D Day, 6 June, the first assault took place in the early hours of the morning. Churchill-whom the politician Duff Cooper observed ‘looked as white as a sheet’ when he visited the House of Commons to announce news of the landings in France-later lunched with the King at the Palace. Thereafter, the duo motored to Air Marshal Trafford Leigh-Mallory’s HQ at Stanmore and thence to the Supreme Allied Commander’s HQ at Bushey for information on how events were progressing across the Channel. That evening, at 9pm, the King broadcast to the nation (the text having been perused in advance by President Roosevelt). He spoke haltingly but from the heart: ‘That we may be worthily matched with this new summons of destiny, I desire to call my people to prayer and dedication.’ Acknowledging ‘our shortcomings’, he continued ‘We shall not ask that God may do our will, but that we may do the will of God.’ In his diary, the King noted poignantly that he and the Queen then ‘spent a quiet week-end, though not in our thoughts.’ Churchill, meanwhile, according to Sir Alexander Cadogan, the Under-Secretary of State at the Foreign Office, ‘seems to have been baffled in his attempt to go to the Beaches, [and] is mucking up foreign affairs instead.’ The Prime Minister was spending the first part of the weekend at Chequers but he eventually set off for the French coast on the Sunday evening, 11 June, accompanied by Field Marshal Smuts and General Sir Alan Brooke, thus beating the King to it!

Once word came through that a bridgehead had been successfully established on the Normandy coast, plans for a brief visit by the King were considered-and approved-by the Cabinet on 13 June or as Churchill put it somewhat discouragingly to George VI, ‘They authorised me not to advise Your Majesty against such a step.’ Indeed, the Prime Minister was at his most interfering, instructing General Montgomery (‘Monty’) that ‘The King should not be advised to go into danger except the incalculable dangers of chance.’ George VI and his party, which included Sir Alan Lascelles, departed Victoria Station at 7.45pm on 15 June. After spending the night at Horsley in Surrey, the royal group then proceeded to Portsmouth where they boarded the cruiser HMS Arethusa, (commanded, the King noted assiduously, by Captain Dalrymple-Smith) at 8am and crossed the English Channel in choppy seas-a journey which took some four hours. Arriving off Cousseulles to the sound of gunfire, the King and his aides then transferred to one of the amphibious DUKWs for the short journey ashore. His Majesty had already let it be known -or so Churchill informed Monty-that, ‘you are not to withdraw your attention from any necessary military duty.’ The royal party were greeted by Montgomery who then drove his VIP guests to his headquarters at Creully (some six miles from the front line) for lunch, followed by a visit to the map room. After holding a brief investiture, the King and his party then visited General Dempsey, the commander of the British Second Army, at his headquarters nearby. Although George VI would have loved to have moved nearer the action, Montgomery-doubtless with Churchill’s instructions in mind-would not hear of it for enemy snipers remained at large. Similarly, once he had re-embarked his ship at 4pm for the journey home, His Majesty was prevented by recently dropped German mines from cruising along the shore to inspect the floating Mulberry Harbours which had proved so useful in facilitating the rapid offloading of cargo and equipment onto the beaches.

The King arrived at Portsmouth just prior to 9pm and subsequently arrived home at Windsor Castle at 11.30pm. Despite the limitations of the visit, the King must have felt satisfied that he had at last been able to visit his troops in person and learn first hand from both Montgomery and Dempsey of their plans for the next stage of the battle. The visit also had an interesting postscript: George VI’s brief foray only served to whet his appetite for further adventure, and on 11 July, during one of their weekly luncheons, he pressed Churchill for a longer trip to his troops in recently liberated Italy.