Royal Feud: The Duke of Windsor and King George VI in Wartime.

Although buoyed up by the success of his recent tour of Canada and the United States, when King George VI landed at Southampton, in late June, the deteriorating political situation in Europe was a pressing source of concern given Germany’s and Italy’s recent invasions of Czechoslovakia and Albania respectively. Another worry was the situation surrounding the King’s eldest brother, the former King Edward VIII. Following his much-publicised Abdication in December 1936, ‘David’ had been given the title of Duke of Windsor. He subsequently married his paramour, Wallis Simpson, in June 1937, and the couple currently resided, ostracised by the Court at Buckingham Palace, in France.

The King (‘Bertie’) had good reason to be concerned about his brother, as in political matters, the Duke had already shown that he could not be relied upon to display the traditional royal circumspection. In October 1937, David (who spoke good German) and Wallis had paid a controversial visit to Nazi Germany, where they were serenaded by an SS band and met with Hitler at the Berghof in Obersalzberg. Furthermore, as recently as May 1939, while George VI was in the course of crossing the Atlantic, the Duke of Windsor made a radio broadcast at the invitation of the American network, NBC, during which he appealed ‘as a soldier of the last war’ for peace and asked that all statesmen ‘act as good citizens of the world and not only as Frenchmen, Italians, Germans, Americans or Britons.’ Soon letters of appreciation were flooding in, particularly from American listeners. Tellingly, the BBC had decided not to carry the broadcast; while the British press probably more accurately reflected the King’s view that the Duke’s intervention, just prior to such an important royal tour, had been both ill-judged and ill-timed. Indeed, David’s youngest brother, the Duke of Kent went so far as to describe him as ‘a fool’.

In late June, the Duke of Windsor was again back in the headlines, when Buckingham Palace indicated that they were unable to confirm a rumour that the former king and his wife ‘would shortly settle down in England.’ Intriguingly, the Paris correspondent of Reuters added that he had been informed by the Duke ‘that he has no definite plans after the summer‘, which he was spending at the Château de la Croë, his residence at Antibes, in the south of France.

King George VI must have been disturbed by the thought of his predecessor arriving in England at such a precarious time. Nonetheless he carried on with his duties, reviewing a march past of National Service Volunteers in Hyde Park, visiting the Royal Naval College at Dartmouth and entertaining the Prince Regent of Yugoslavia at Buckingham Palace. On reaching Balmoral, in early August, Bertie attended his Duke of York Camp at nearby Abergeldie Castle; this annual event had been established to encourage the integration of boys from different social backgrounds. However, on 9 August, the King broke off his highland holiday to travel south to Weymouth to inspect the Reserve Fleet, before returning to Scotland.

On 23 August, with a German attack on Poland looking increasingly likely, the Duke of Windsor asked the British Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain to keep him informed of developments in order that he could make plans for the future. David would have been aware that as early as March, Chamberlain had given an undertaking to Poland that the British government would ‘lend all support in their power’ in the event of any action which threatened Polish independence. Four days later, the Duke telegraphed Hitler from the French Riviera and made a ‘very earnest appeal for your utmost influence towards a peaceful solution of the present problems.’ The King, meanwhile, had returned to London as the crisis worsened and offered to make a similar personal approach to Hitler. However, he received a polite rebuff from Chamberlain. Bertie later dined at Buckingham Palace with his brothers the Duke of Gloucester and the Duke of Kent. It seems highly likely that the matter of the Duke of Windsor was discussed in light of the earlier press reports of his possible return to England; the King had doubtless also been informed of his brother’s recent approach to Chamberlain. He probably had knowledge too of David’s view (expressed to his friend and legal adviser Walter Monckton during the Munich crisis of the previous year) that since the British government were responsible for him and the Duchess having to live in exile, they must therefore accept responsibility for getting them and their possessions out of France if the need arose.

On 1 September German troops invaded Poland. At 9AM on 3 September, the British Ambassador in Berlin, Sir Nevile Henderson, handed a note to the German Foreign Minister, Ribbentrop. In this, the Foreign Secretary, Lord Halifax indicated that if hostilities against Poland did not stop by 11AM, a state of war would exist between Great Britain and Germany. Germany did not respond and at 11:15 Neville Chamberlain went on the radio to announce to the British people that they were at war with Germany. In the evening, the King broadcast to the nation and asked that everyone stand ‘calm and firm and united.’

In Antibes, the Duke of Windsor had received news of Britain’s declaration war in a personal phone call from the British Ambassador in France, Sir Ronald Hugh Campbell. David then telephoned Walter Monckton and instructed him to convey to the King his desire to serve in any capacity His Majesty deemed suitable. George VI responded by offering to send a plane to the South of France to bring his brother and sister-in-law to Britain. However, when Monckton telephoned the Duke with this news, rather than being grateful, he seemed more intent on establishing exactly where he and the Duchess were to be accommodated. When informed that his equerry Edward Dudley ‘Fruity’ Metcalfe might arrange for the couple to stay with him at his home in Sussex, the Duke became difficult and insisted that he would not return to England unless he and his wife were invited to stay at one of the royal residences as a guest of the King. Unsurprisingly, this latest “request” fell on stony ground and the plans to send a plane were put on hold.

However, despite this impasse, Walter Monckton flew out on 7 September to discuss the various posts that were to be offered to the ex-king when he eventually decided to return home. These included a civil defence post as Deputy to the Regional Commissioner in Wales and a job as a liaison officer in the British Number 1 Military Mission attached to the French General Headquarters in Paris. It was also made clear that there was no question of the couple staying at a royal residence; nor should the Duchess expect to be received by Their Majesties. In the meantime, another problem emerged: The Duchess had a fear of flying and asked if it might be possible to provide transport by sea to England. One can imagine the sighs in London as the harassed powers-that-be struggled to arrange this. In the interim, the Duke and Duchess departed Antibes and headed northwards via Vichy to await further instructions. The Duke of Windsor’s old friend and champion, Winston Churchill soon came to the rescue: He had recently been appointed First Lord of the Admiralty and arranged for Captain Louis Mountbatten, a cousin and former naval Aide-de-Camp to Edward VIII, to travel to Cherbourg aboard his ship HMS Kelly and transport the Duke and Duchess to Portsmouth.

Following a six-hour crossing, the ducal party landed in England late on the evening of 12 September. The difference in David’s status was immediately apparent to him. As a Prince of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, the Duke was only entitled to the first six bars of the National Anthem from the Royal Marines band (rather than the full version he had become accustomed to as Sovereign). Furthermore, there was no member or representative of the royal family to greet him and his wife. After an overnight spent at Admiralty House (a kind gesture arranged at the last-minute through the intervention of Churchill), the Duke and Duchess were ferried in the Metcalfe’s car to their country residence, South Hartfield House. From there, the Duke and Duchess would make regular visits by car to London, using the Metcalfe’s town house in Wilton Street as a daytime base.

On 14 September, the Duke of Windsor had an afternoon meeting with the King at Buckingham Palace, their first meeting in three years. George VI would later recall in his diary that ‘we talked for an hour. There were no recriminations on either side…’; yet to his youngest brother George, the Duke of Kent, he confided that David’s demeanour ‘was his usual swaggering one, laying down the law about everything.’ The Duke thought it ‘cordial enough’ and indicated his preference for the civil defence post in Wales, which was unsurprising given that he had a deep affection for the Principality which he had visited on numerous occasions during his years as Prince of Wales. The King replied vaguely that there was no hurry about making a decision.

Next day, the Duke had meetings with Churchill at the Admiralty, followed by an uneasy encounter with the Prime Minister at 10 Downing Street. The reason for this would soon become apparent: During a subsequent meeting at the War Office with the Secretary of State for War, Leslie Hore-Belisha, David was informed that the King had now withdrawn the offer of the post in Wales for which he had expressed a preference. Bertie felt that his older brother would be ‘most suitably employed’ in France. The Duke would now return there as a member of the Military Mission with the temporary (lower) rank of Major-General. As a “sweetener” the Prime Minister was ‘making enquiries’ as to whether the former king and his wife could first make fortnight’s tour of the English Commands before returning to the Continent.

However, on 16 September, Hore-Belisha had two audiences with the King. He observed that George VI was ‘in a distressed state’ and took the view that if the Duchess of Windsor visited the Commands she might receive a hostile reception, particularly in Scotland. Nor did he want the Duke to visit the Commands in England. During the second audience, the King remarked that while all his predecessors had succeeded to the throne after their predecessors had died, ‘Mine is not only alive, but very much so.’ He concluded that it better for the Duke to return to France as soon as possible. Within the hour, Hore-Belisha met up with his former king at the War Office. He handled the delicate situation with great tact by explaining that if the Duke was to tour the Commands, it might attract undue attention and be a threat to security. By contrast, if David showed readiness to take up his new appointment at once, it would create an excellent impression with the public-at-large. Hore-Belisha also pointed out that the Head of the British Military Mission, Major-General Richard Howard-Vyse was awaiting his new royal liaison officer’s arrival in Paris as a matter of urgency. Tellingly, as he departed the War Office, the Duke was cheered by onlookers. He also received many letters of encouragement from his former subjects. Word of this would have reached the Palace and would hardly have endeared David to the King.

In the event, owing to red tape, the Duke and Duchess did not return to France until 29 September. The couple made use of the time to drive out to their former love nest, Fort Belvedere at Sunningdale. It proved to be a sad visit as the gardens were overgrown and the house was shuttered up and decaying.

On 30 September Major-General HRH the Duke of Windsor reported for duty at his HQ at Nogent-sur-Marne, east of Paris. He quickly settled in and was popular with his fellow officers. In the first instance David was dispatched, with the approval of the French Commander-in-Chief, General Maurice Gamelin (who was delighted to have an ex-king and former combatant of the Great War of 1914-1918 in his midst) on a tour French fortifications along the Belgian border with France. However, unknown to the French High Command, the Duke’s expedition had a serious purpose. He had been asked to write a report on how secure the French defences were in this low-lying area as this would be of relevance to the British Expeditionary Force (BEF) who were responsible for the defence of Lille and the surrounding locality but who, in the words of one British officer, ‘knew so little of the doings of the French army’. After a brief visit to the British GHQ at Arras , where he took tea with his younger brother Harry, the Duke of Gloucester (currently serving as ‘Chief Liaison Officer’ to the Commander-in-Chief of the BEF, Major-General Lord Gort), David set out on four day, 50-mile tour of inspection. His report, dated 10 October, was damning: French tank defences were inadequate, while the main fortified positions were not camouflaged and lacked any anti-aircraft cover. Furthermore, not only was their a shortage of French military personnel but many of those the Duke encountered seemed to lack proper training. Major-General Howard-Wyse was impressed by the ‘valuable’ report and forwarded a copy to Gort. The Duke took the trouble to send a copy, with a personal letter enclosed, to General Edmund Ironside, the Chief of the Imperial General Staff in London. Sadly, the report seems to have been left to gather dust.

As the Duke was not due set out on his next tour of inspection (along the Vosges section of the Maginot Line) until 26 October, it was decided to send him on a visit to the BEF. The ex-king was ‘full of go and interest’ according to one British General and his spirits had undoubtedly been lifted by the warm welcome he received from the troops. However, an unfortunate incident occurred when a guard at headquarters presented arms and the Duke, without thinking, returned the salute, as he had been accustomed to doing in the past, both as Prince of Wales and as King. Unfortunately, the salute was intended for the senior officer present, the BEF’s commanding officer, Lord Gort. It also so happened that the Duke of Gloucester was part of the official group. Technically speaking, he also outranked his eldest brother, both militarily and in terms of royal precedence. An aggrieved Harry Gloucester later informed the King of his ‘horror’ at David’s behaviour. The Duke of Kent only added to George VI’s disquiet when he asked if the rumours were ‘true’ that David had ‘seemed to get all of the attention’ when he and Harry had reviewed the troops together. The King in turn was furious and felt that the Duke of Windsor had ‘made everything extremely difficult for all concerned during his recent visit to the Front.’ It appears that secret instructions were subsequently sent from London to say that the British Sector was to be off-limits to the ex-king. Furthermore, David also received a formal reprimand from his superiors over his actions.

Nevertheless, the Duke was allowed to continue with his tour of the Maginot Line, probably because no other member of Howard Wyse’s staff would have been permitted similar access by the French. He covered this stretch in three days (26-28 October) with visits to Fort Hochwald (where the French greeted him with the firing of some shells into no-man’s land and the British National Anthem) and army headquarters at Ingwiller. However, when David-keen to compare defence methods used by the BEF with those of the French forces-learned from an embarrassed Howard-Wyse that his contact with British troops was now being deliberately restricted to occasional visits to GHQ, he became most annoyed. The Duke wrote to Churchill in mid-November, indicating that this blow was ‘merely fresh evidence of my brother’s continued efforts to humiliate me in his and his courtier’s power.’ He was now determined to travel to London and have it out with the King. Monckton, who continued to act as an intermediary between David and Bertie, indicated that he doubted the King ‘would be willing to discuss the matter yet.’ Walter also pointed out to the Duke that should he be involved in ‘an open quarrel’ with the King, ‘people would in the vast majority support him because there is a war on and because he is who he is.’ Matters then seemed to settle down and, at the end of November, David was informed by Howard-Vyse that London had indicated, ‘there was no objection’ to him visiting British military units ‘for a definite purpose, and with prior approval.’ The Duke informed Monckton ‘I have won my point…’ Nevertheless, the altercation left the ex-king disillusioned, and as I will explain in a later instalment, highly unpredictable and increasingly difficult to handle. It also left relations with his brother, the King, in a fraught state, for when George VI paid a visit to the BEF in northern France in early December, there was no contact between the brothers.

The Scottish State Coach At the Trooping.

Most unusually, the Queen today made use of the Scottish State Coach at the Trooping of the Colour. Apparently, the decision to use a closed carriage, was taken as a precaution against inclement weather. I thought it might be worth looking at the history of this item which currently graces the Royal Mews at Buckingham Palace.

The coach was originally constructed in 1830 as a glass ‘town’ coach for Queen Victoria’s uncle, Prince Adolphus, the Duke of Cambridge. The Duke travelled in the ‘Cambridge Coach’ (as it was then known) to the coronation of his brother William IV in September, 1831. After Adolphus’s death, the coach was sold to William Keppel, 7th Earl of Albemarle, who converted it to a semi-State Landau. Interestingly, William’s son, the Hon. George Keppel, married (in 1891) Alice Edmonstone, who would later become a mistress of King Edward VII. George and Alice Keppel are the great-grandparents (on the maternal side) of the present Duchess of Cornwall.

In 1920 the coach was presented as a gift by the Keppel family to Queen Mary. It was remodelled and restored to its original enclosed state in 1968–9 on the present Queen’s instructions so as to create a coach specifically for state occasions in Scotland. The emblems of the Order of the Thistle (the highest order of chivalry in Scotland), as well as the Scottish version of the Royal Arms were painted on the sides. In addition, a model of the Crown of Scotland was placed atop the roof. This distinguishes it from the other carriages in the Royal Mews which feature the royal arms of England and the Order of the Garter insignia.

The Queen made use of the remodelled Scottish State Coach for the first time when she attended the opening of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland in Edinburgh on 20 May 1969. The coach proved to be a popular choice as the combination of a glass roof and large glass windows provides onlookers with a better view of the occupants, as well as vital extra light.

The Coach has also been used regularly for events in other parts of the United Kingdom. It was particularly favoured by the late Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother who travelled in it, accompanied by some of her grandchildren, to Queen Elizabeth II’s Silver Jubilee Thanksgiving Service at St Paul’s Cathedral in June 1977. She again made use of the coach during her Installation as Lord Warden and Admiral of the Cinque Ports at Dover in the summer of 1979. This usage seems particularly apt given that Her Majesty was a direct descendent of Scotland’s famous King, Robert the Bruce and had Stuart blood coursing through her veins.

The Scottish State Coach has made several more forays north to Edinburgh: In 1994 it was used as a reserve carriage during the State Visit of the King and Queen of Norway; while in August 2016, it was displayed on the forecourt of the Queen’s official residence in Scotland, the Palace of Holyroodhouse to mark Her Majesty 90th birthday year.

Most recently, in October 2018, the coach was used by Princess Eugenie and her husband Jack Brooksbank, for the procession that took place after their wedding at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor .

D Day Debacle: King George VI and Churchill

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.

King and Queen’s 1939 Royal Tour of Canada and the US.

The 1939 Royal tour was undertaken against the backdrop of the threat of war in Europe to stimulate Canadian support for the ‘mother country.’ A short diversion to the United States was also arranged to provide an opportunity to cultivate solidarity with transatlantic friends.

On 17 May King George VI and his consort, Queen Elizabeth landed at Wolfe’s Cove, Quebec to a 21-gun salute. The royal tour (which was to last four weeks) had been planned with meticulous attention to detail. Nevertheless, the organisers could not have predicted the start would be delayed by two days as Their Majesties’ sea journey from Portsmouth, aboard the Empress of Australia, was hampered by thick fog.

However, all this was soon forgotten as the Canadians were captivated by this first visit by a reigning King of Canada and his Queen to their Dominion. The Prime Minister, Mackenzie King, spoke for most when he stated, during a lunch at the Chateau Frontenac Hotel in Quebec City, ‘Today, as never before, the Throne has become the centre of our lives.’

Although the King was initially reticent, the Queen (who spoke fluent French) wowed the crowds with her famous charm, during a subsequent appearance at Montreal’s City Hall. Later, in the capital Ottawa (reached by an air-conditioned 12-carriage Royal Train which would act as the couple’s base throughout the majority of the 3224 mile trip), the Queen unveiled the foundation stone of the new Supreme Court and was delighted to be introduced to some Scottish stonemasons who hailed from Kirriemuir, near to her native Glamis. Even more touching was the unveiling, by the King, of the National War Memorial in Connaught Square, after which Their Majesties walked spontaneously among the gathered throng of 25000 Canadian veterans, talking to as many as possible. The royal walkabout was born.

After travelling westwards through the provinces of Ontario (which included a day of engagements in Toronto), Manitoba, Saskatchewan, Alberta (where an overnight was spent at the famous Banff Springs Hotel) and British Columbia, the King and Queen reached the westernmost destination of the tour (Victoria, Vancouver Island) on 30 May. The King celebrated by presenting new colours to the Royal Canadian Navy at Beacon Hill. The return journey eastwards, by a different route, included busy stops in Edmonton and Saskatoon (where the royals paid a visit to the Massey Harris tractor factory).

On 7 June, Niagara Falls was reached. After touring the Falls and dining at the General Brock Hotel, the royal couple crossed the Peace Bridge to Buffalo in New York State. This signalled the start of a gruelling 5-day tour of the United States which commenced with a visit, on 8 June, to Washington D.C. in 95 degree heat. After being formally welcomed by President Roosevelt and his wife Eleanor at Union Station, the royal couple then attended a garden party at the British Embassy followed by a State Dinner, hosted by the President, at the White House. Next day, the King and Queen visited the Capitol, lunched aboard the presidential yacht and toured George Washington’s home at Mount Vernon. The royals then travelled overnight by train to New York to attend the World Fair at Flushing Meadows and visit Columbia University in Manhattan.

In the evening the couple motored the 80 miles to Springwood, the President’s country home at Hyde Park, where events were soon enlivened by the collapse of a serving table during dinner. Roosevelt later had a long talk about the European political situation with the King until 1.30am, when the President ended the conversation with the words, ‘Young man, it’s time for you to go to bed.’ By contrast, the next day-a Sunday-was mainly devoted to relaxation, with the Roosevelt’s serving hot dogs to their royal guests at a hill-top barbecue.

Thereafter, the King and Queen returned to Canada where they toured New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island. The couple then travelled onwards to Halifax in Nova Scotia where, on 15 June, the King made an emotional address of thanks to his Canadian subjects during a farewell luncheon at the Nova Scotian Hotel. Subsequently, the couple embarked the Empress of Britain for the long journey home by sea to England via Newfoundland.

In retrospect, it has to be said that the tour strengthened Canadian support and affection for the Monarchy; it also served to establish a useful rapport between King George VI and President Roosevelt. Commentators, including Lord Tweedsmuir ( the Governor-General of Canada), generally thought that the King and Queen had done a good job. The last word must go to the Queen who reflected, ‘It made us, the King and I.’

Royal Charity Event.

Every year Princess Olga of Yugoslavia organised and presided over charitable sales of work in Belgrade. These events were organised to raise funds for the many causes of which the Princess was Royal Patron, with the focus being on the welfare of mother and child. Olga was very ‘hands on’ and set up her own stall for the event, with items often sourced in London by her childhood nanny, Kate Fox (‘Nurnie’). In the accompanying image we see the Princess (on the left) preparing to sell her wares once the event has been declared opened by Queen Marie of Yugoslavia (pictured centre). To the right is Olga’s youngest sister, Princess Marina of Greece, a frequent visitor to Belgrade prior to her marriage to Prince George, the Duke of Kent.