Tag: #hitler

King Gustav V of Sweden: Nazi Sympathiser?

King Gustav V of Sweden was an avowed Germanophile, as was many of his family. His late wife, the strong-willed Queen Victoria of Sweden, had after all been born a Princess of Baden and was both the granddaughter of Emperor Wilhelm I, as well as a cousin of Emperor Wilhelm II. Furthermore, the marriage was primarily a political alliance organised by Gustav’s father, King Oscar II, who was keen to forge strong ties with Germany. Victoria’s influence over her rather hesitant husband was considerable and was still evident in the years following her death in 1930. The latter’s cousin, Prince Maximilian von Baden, who died in 1929, was another influence. He had long emphasised to Gustav that Germany and Sweden had common interests against Russia. In 1915, during the Great War ‘Max’ even travelled to Drottningholm in an (ultimately futile) attempt to bring Sweden into the war on the German side. Another relative of the Swedish Queen, her second cousin Prince Victor of Wied was to serve as a counsellor in the German Legation in Stockholm between 1919-1922. In 1933, and by now a member of the National Socialist Workers’ Party, he returned to the Swedish capital in the powerful and influential post of German Minister. Wied-who was a friend of Hermann Göring-continued to foster relations between Sweden and Germany, not least through the King and members of the German and Swedish aristocracy, who were traditionally pro-German. It so happened that Göring’s Swedish first wife Carin, had been high-born. (Although she died in 1931, Carin would open up contacts on behalf of her husband which were still in use during World War 2.) It also helped that Gustav’s grandson (and heir-but-one to the Swedish throne) Gustav Adolf, had married the German Princess Sybilla of Coburg the previous year. Her English-born father, Charles Edward, the Duke of Coburg, was a staunch supporter of Hitler and the Nazi Regime and had contacts at the highest level in Berlin. He was also a friend of Victor of Wied. Unsurprisingly, in 1933, during a visit to Berlin, Gustav entertained the President of Germany and the newly-elected Chancellor, Adolf Hitler to lunch at the Swedish Legation. Meanwhile, in February 1939, the King paid another visit to Berlin, during which he conferred on Field Marshal Göring, a Commander Grand Cross of the Royal Order of the Sword, a distinguished Swedish military award.

King Gustav on a visit to Berlin with his grandson, Gustav Adolf. Field Marshal Göring in the centre.
King Gustav and his German-born wife, Queen Victoria.

However, when World War II commenced in September 1939, the Swedish government of Per Albin Hansson adopted a neutral stance, a view endorsed by King Gustav. Nevertheless, this would prove a difficult position to maintain and was to come at a price. The first challenge was when Germany invaded Sweden’s neighbours of Norway and Denmark on 9 April 1940. Gustav received news of this by telephone, just after 5am, from his Foreign Minister, Christian Günther. The latter had been informed of the dual invasions in person at his home on Ymervägen in Djursholm, only a few minutes earlier, by the German Minister in Stockholm, Prince Victor of Wied. The latter had been at pains to reassure Günther that Sweden, unlike Norway and Denmark, would not be invaded (subject to certain conditions) and that he would soon be in a position to hand over an official communication from Berlin which would elaborate on the German government’s position. Wied was as good as his word and, by 9am, a collection of notables, including the Prime Minister, the Foreign Minister and the Crown Prince, joined the King in his study at the Royal Palace to discuss Germany’s demands. It made uncomfortable reading: Firstly, Sweden was not allowed to mobilise its forces. Secondly, the Swedish navy must at all times not hinder German naval operations nor travel further than three miles from the Swedish coast. Neither was Sweden to impede German official telecommunications traffic. Of particular importance to the German war effort, deliveries of Swedish iron ore were to continue unhindered, with the mines to be protected against Allied sabotage attempts.

It would be fair to say that each person sitting round the table was fearful of the Nazi menace. They had no reason to doubt that if they did not agree to these terms, Hitler’s troops would soon be marching down the streets of Stockholm. Indeed, only the sceptical Crown Prince-who had previously been married to Britain’s Princess Margaret of Connaught and was currently married to the British-raised Louise Mountbatten (who outspokenly compared Nazism to Barbarism)-spoke out against acceptance of these conditions. Eventually, it was agreed to accept the German’s demands with one exception: Sweden would not agree to being prohibited from mobilising its forces. On April 19, King Gustav V wrote a personal letter to Hitler ‘affirming the intention of Sweden to maintain strictest neutrality and to resist the violation of Sweden’s frontiers by any powers.’ Hitler replied within days reaffirming Germany’s intention to respect Sweden’s neutrality unconditionally. But, as shall be seen, these words were merely diplomatic platitudes.

Gustaf V (centre) presides over a wartime Council of State meeting with Minister of Defence Per Edvin Sköld, Minister for Foreign Affairs Christian Günther, legal consultant Thorwald Bergquist and Minister of Justice Karl Gustaf Westman.

However, even as he signed his letter to Hitler, Gustav V was already dealing with several dilemmas. The first was when his niece, Crown Princess Märtha of Norway, seeking to avoid capture by German occupying forces, travelled from Elverum across the border into Sweden with her three children in the early hours of 10 April. None of the party had passports but eventually the border guards let them through. Unsure of the reception she would receive from her Swedish relations, the Crown Princess then proceeded to the Högfjällshotell in the ski resort of Sälen where she was joined by her mother, the Danish-born Princess Ingeborg, who was no fan of the Germans, who had recently invaded her homeland.

King Haakon (second left) and Crown Prince Olav (extreme left) run for cover as German Heinkel aircraft attack them in April 1940

No sooner had Gustav received word of Märtha ’s arrival when another crisis crossed his desk. An exhausted King Haakon and Crown Prince Olav, who had remained in Norway but refused to cooperate with the Nazis, were currently being hounded by a crack group of 120 German commandos bent on their capture or death. They had reached the Swedish border post near Flötningen, on 12 April. The Norwegian Foreign Minister, Halvdan Koht, telephoned his Swedish counterpart, Christian Günther, seeking a guarantee that King Haakon might be allowed to cross over into Sweden and cross back safely after a night’s rest at a hostel. Günther discussed the matter with King Gustav. The reply was brisk and uncompromising: ‘The Swedish government does not want to provide guarantees regarding return travel in advance.’ It was also indicated that under international law, if the Norwegian King and his party crossed the border in military uniform, they would be interned. This response was to earn Gustav the lasting enmity of King Haakon.

Meanwhile, the situation with Crown Princess Märtha was also mishandled by King Gustav. Märtha was moved on from Sälen, as it was feared her presence so close to the Norwegian border might provoke the Germans, but as to doing exactly what remains unclear. “Uncle Gustav”, after initially welcoming Märtha and her family to his home at Drottningholm (where an adjutant warned that the war was not to be discussed at the dinner table) eventually offered her accommodation at nearby Ulriksdal Palace. Interestingly, the move to his palace coincided with King Haakon learning that the Germans had informed the Administrative Council, an interim body appointed by the Norwegian Supreme Court to deal with matters of civil administration in Norway, that he should abdicate the throne. Furthermore, during this period the Crown Princess (who received little direct news of King Haakon and her husband Olav) was subject to constant political pressure to return to Norway with her son Prince Harald and cooperate with the occupying power by acting as Regent, of what would effectively be a puppet throne, until her son reached his majority. A number of prominent Norwegians who visited Stockholm advocated for such a solution. This idea also had its supporters within Per Albin Hansson’s Swedish government. For instance, the Swedish Justice Minister (and one-time Foreign Minister), Karl Westman, wrote in his diary as early as 19 June, mentioning his attendance at a government meeting: ‘I reiterated my question about why the friends of the Norwegian dynasty do not put the Norwegian crown princess and [prince] Harald on a plane and send them… to Oslo.’ He was writing this at a time when many Swedes believed that Märtha’s presence threatened to undermine Sweden’s neutrality when Germany was on the ascendance: Only a few days earlier German forces had entered Paris unopposed and the French were on the point of signing the surrender at Compiègne. Meanwhile, some Norwegians even harboured the-not unrealistic-suspicion that Prince Harald could be kidnapped and taken to Oslo by force.

King Gustav, meanwhile, was concerned to learn of the German’s desire to have King Haakon abdicate or even to depose the monarchy in Norway. He now chose to become personally involved and in a telegram to Hitler observed, ‘I consider it my duty to personally emphasize to you, Herr Reich Chancellor, that such a measure would elicit serious disapproval among the broadest circles of the Swedish people and throughout the whole of Scandinavia. I wish therefore, before irrevocable decisions are made by you, to draw your attention through this telegram…to urge you, Mr. Chancellor, to proceed with all the moderation that can be considered possible in relation to Norway, its king and people.’ Did he now fear for his own throne?

Rumours now began to circulate of a cipher telegram having been sent on 21 June by King Gustav to King Haakon to advise him to abdicate in favour of his grandson as ‘a means of saving the Norwegian people from unnecessary difficulties’. This led to confusion and it appears that the contents of King Gustav’s earlier telegram to Hitler was somehow misconstrued or misreported for, on 22 June the British Minister in Stockholm indicated that King Gustav had telegraphed Hitler directly personally recommending the Regency option to him. Thus, London (and the Crown Princess) now believed that Gustav was the principal protagonist in this “Norwegian Regency” matter. Indeed, such was the fury in London that it caused Britain’s King George VI to sit down and write a very stern letter to the Swedish King. Fortunately, this was not forwarded by the British Legation in Stockholm to King Gustav, when it became clear that in his earlier telegram to Hitler the meddling Swedish king had instead urged the Reich Chancellor to show the utmost possible moderation in his dealings over Norway. Some commentators have taken the view that Gustav intervened simply because he believed that if the matter was not resolved soon Germany would abolish the monarchy in Norway. Ironically, Hitler would interpret Gustav’s involvement as a Norwegian-inspired attempt to put pressure on Germany.

The Crown Princess of Norway and her children Ragnhild, Harald and Astrid in August 1940 as they travel through Finland en route to Petsamo.

Märtha was clearly aware of the growing danger and sent a telegram to London warning her husband and father-in-law ( who had fled there, in early June, with members of the legitimate Norwegian government) that her Swedish family (i.e. King Gustav) and Hitler were conspiring to remove King Haakon and set up a Regency. Crown Prince Olav had never felt his family were safe in Sweden and in a letter from Buckingham Palace dated 22 June, he appraised his old friend President Franklin D. Roosevelt of the situation. The President soon came to Märtha’s rescue and offered her and her children the chance to relocate to the United States as his ‘personal guests.’ They departed Ulriksdal on 12 August and sailed from the Finnish port of Petsamo (now Petsjenga, Russia) aboard the USS American Legion on 15 August. Olav’s intervention, of course, thwarted the regency option. King Gustav seemed displeased by this latest development and telegraphed King Haakon, on 24 July, stating that he objected to the American trip as it might undermine the future of the Norwegian monarchy, a viewpoint Haakon quickly dismissed.

Not content with concerning himself with Norwegian matters, Gustav V turned his hand to acting as a peacemaker between Germany and the United Kingdom. He wrote personally to Britain’s King George VI, as well as to Hitler offering his services as an intermediary for peace. What the Fuhrer replied is unclear but George VI handed a note to the Swedish Ambassador in London on 12 August which courteously but firmly rejected Gustav’s offer, pointing out that ‘the intention of My Peoples to prosecute the war until their purposes have been achieved has been strengthened’ as a result of the felonious behaviour of the Germans in the war so far.

A Swedish soldier watches over German troops being transported through Sweden in World War 2.

Meanwhile, as the above sagas were being played out, King Gustav was also faced with an even more pressing problem within days of the occupation of Norway: A German request to transport food rations, medical staff and nursing supplies through Sweden by train to Narvik in northern Norway. This port was the primary outlet, particularly in winter, for transporting the Swedish ore by sea to Germany. The Swedish government agreed to this request on 17 April. It was a decision they would soon come to regret, as over time the Germans would push for further concessions including the transport of ‘furlough troops’ and ‘destroyer crews’. This was eventually expanded to ‘arms and troops’ by the end of June.

King Gustav and Per Albin Hansson 1941

However, the most debated was during the so-called midsummer crisis (Midsommarkrisen) in June 1941, when Germany-who had by now reached an accommodation with Finland and was planning an invasion of the Soviet Union (Operation Barbarossa)-asked to transport a battle-equipped division of military personnel belonging to the Wehrmacht’s 163rd Infantry Division from Oslo and through Sweden to Haparanda, near the Finnish-Swedish border in Northern Sweden, for further transportation eastward. The Swedish cabinet was divided on the issue and was initially against granting the request, on the basis that it was a violation of Sweden’s neutrality. Heated discussions took place throughout 23 and 24 June. However, the government executed a volte-face when the Swedish Prime Minister, Per Albin Hansson, indicated that King Gustav had informed him that he could not take responsibility for a negative answer and would abdicate unless Germany’s application was granted. He also informed his brother Eugen (who notably distanced himself from the Nazi regime) that the consequences of saying no to the Germans would be serious. Although Swedish historians have continued to debate whether their monarch really threatened to abdicate, it should be noted that on June 25, the Prince of Wied had a long conversation with King Gustav. The German Minister was subsequently pleased to inform the Foreign Ministry in Berlin that Gustav had ‘expressed his satisfaction that the principal German request for the transit of one division had been accepted by the State Council and who indicated his personal support in the matter.’ Indeed, Gustav himself would later reveal ‘that it had been owing only to his personal intervention that the question of the transportation in the summer of troops through Sweden had been settled in accordance with [German] wishes.’

King Gustav V with his family during World War 2. Crown Princess Louise (left), the King, Princess Sybilla with daughter Birgitta, Crown Prince Gustav Adolf with granddaughter Margaretha.

The same afternoon, the first of the trains left Oslo, crossing the border into Sweden early on 26 June, and heading northwards through Sweden en route to Finland and the Eastern Front. As the train arrived at Krylbo, 15 kilometres northwest of Stockholm, the Prince of Wied was present to inspect a guard of honour in the company of his wife. The main transport commenced on 27 June with around four trains crossing into Sweden each day. In total 15,449 German troops were transported by 12 July. Meanwhile, according to Sweden’s Expressen newspaper, over the ensuing wartime years 2,140,000 German soldiers and 100,000 tons of weapons and equipment would be transported through “neutral” Sweden. It should also be noted that on 29 June 1941 cooperation agreements were made between the Swedish and German air forces; as well as between the Swedish and Germany naval forces. Gustav would later indicate to the German Minister that is had only been due to his ‘personal intervention’ that in September 1941, the German 2nd Division, had been permitted to sail through Swedish territorial waters with a Swedish naval escort, en route north to the Eastern Front. The grateful Germans continued to push for more, with Sweden’s adherence to the Tripartite Pact even being mentioned at one stage.

German-born Princess Sybilla visits a German Hospital Train as it passes through Sweden in November 1941.

This period sees Gustav and some of his family at their most fawning where Germany is concerned. In November 1941, a smiling Princess Sibylla, with a German army officer at her side, was spotted serving coffee and cake to a group of wounded German soldiers, travelling homeward from Norway, at the Krylbo railway station. It is inconceivable that this was done without the King’s permission; while in February 1942, Gustav would also permit a visit to Stockholm by Sibylla’s father, currently an Obergruppenführer in the German Sturmabteilung (SA). In addition, in October 1941, four months after the German invasion of Soviet Russia, Gustav attempted to send a personal letter to Hitler ‘about a matter that is close to my heart…’ i.e. Bolshevism and offering his ‘sincere thanks to you for deciding to strike at this plague..’ and congratulating the Fuhrer ‘on the results you have already achieved.’ However, the Swedish Prime Minister got wind of it and would not allow the letter to be sent. That the King was a devious operator is evidenced by what he did next: Gustav merely sent for the Prince of Wied on 28 October and read the contents of the letter out aloud to him. The Prince took notes and that very evening, the German Foreign Ministry in Berlin received a copy of the text from the German Embassy in Stockholm: ‘The King wished quite frankly to express his warm thanks to the Fuhrer for having decided to crush this [Bolshevik] plague. The King asked that his heartiest congratulations be conveyed to the Fuhrer on the great success already achieved. At the same time the King gave assurances that by far the greater part of his people shared his views in this matter. His efforts and his activities would always be aimed at converting the doubters to his views. The King also added that he was very anxious for the preservation of good relations between Germany and Sweden.’ Gustav also asked the Prince of Wied ‘to treat the foregoing communication in special confidence so that it would not become known in public. ‘ As a second cousin of Gustav’s late wife, the King still treated the Prince ‘like family’ and he was invited on summer retreats until 1943. It is no wonder that Winston Churchill now viewed Gustav as being, ‘absolutely in the German grip.’ Hitler responded to Gustav’s message, on 7 December, ‘with sincere pleasure’ and particularly mentions ‘the very personal comforting personal attitude of Your Majesty…’ in appreciating the ‘historic action’ which Germany had taken in the war against Bolshevism.

Gustav V and his government were also afraid of the Swedish press upsetting the Germans. Academics have reported that there was ‘very limited reporting’ on the Jewish question in 1940 and 1941 compared to the pre-war years. This self-censorship also extended to at least sixteen Swedish newspapers being prevented from reporting abuses in Norwegian prisons. Expressen cites a case which illustrates that the Swedish King took a personal interest in such matters. When the Gothenburg Trade and Shipping Magazine featured an article by Torgny Segerstedt (an avowed critic of Nazism and Sweden’s policy of appeasement to Hitler) which mentioned Nazi atrocities, Gustaf V summoned the magazine’s editor to the Royal Palace and urged him to stop writing negative articles about Hitler and his regime. Meanwhile, on one occasion, Hitler himself set the record straight, when in an interview with Stockholm Tidningen, in March 1944, he denied that he had made an approach to King Gustav, who had offered to mediate with Finland.

It is easy today to criticise the actions of King Gustav. However, he and his government were clearly under constant pressure for although Sweden remained unoccupied, it remained cut off from the West by German-held territory and was heavily dependent on Germany economically, including for her imports of necessities. Furthermore, the possibility of a German invasion of Sweden was ever-present. At times, the King’s intervention may even have prevented a German incursion, as when he wrote to assure Hitler that ‘Sweden will defend itself against all invaders, even against an English attack…’ This was in response to Hitler’s grumblings that Sweden would not protect itself against a British invasion thus threatening the supply of iron ore on which Germany so desperately relied. Certainly, in April 1942, Hitler decided to strengthen German forces in Norway by 70,000 men. The 25th Panzer Division was strategically stationed in Oslo and was Germany’s way of intimidating the Swedish government into continued cooperation. By contrast, with the weakening of the German military position in the latter part of 1943 onwards, Gustav’s fear of German reprisals seemed to diminish and he appeared a little more accommodating, although cynics would say that was merely repositioning himself in preparation for an Allied victory. In advance of the Heads of Government Meeting at Tehran in November 1943 some-such as the Russian Foreign Minister Vyacheslav Molotov-were pressing for Sweden to abandon neutrality and fight with the Allies. However, the Swedish Minister in Moscow told the United States Ambassador to Soviet Russia, W. Averell Harriman, that while Sweden was ready to take ‘certain risks,’ his government was not ready to go very far and there was a regal reason :’He pointed out that it was the ambition of the King to lead his people through the war without the suffering that would come from participation.’ Meanwhile, around 7 million tons of iron ore were still being traded between Sweden and Germany in 1944.

As has been observed, Swedish wartime diplomacy sought to ward off German invasion by adopting a neutrality that sacrificed some of Sweden’s independence and made significant concessions to Germany, many backed by the King. Nonetheless, during this period, Gustav V has been credited with helping save Jews deported from Nazi-occupied countries such as Denmark by authorizing measures including the distribution of Swedish passports. Furthermore, in June 1944, at the urging of the Swedish diplomat Raoul Wallenberg and the Chief Rabbi in Sofia, Gustav sent a telegram to the Hungarian ‘Regent’, Miklós Horthy, protesting the deportation of Jews from Hungary. This examples a stronger stance than in 1933 when he apparently informed Hitler that the persecution of the Jews initiated by the Nazis would have a disastrous effect on Germany’s international reputation. The Chancellor should ‘proceed more gently.’

At the time of his 85th birthday in 1943 Gustav V made an interesting speech, which indicates his mindset during World War 2, “It is my firm opinion that a constitutional monarch under ordinary circumstances should not act as a leader in one direction or another except in exceptional cases. But during the current great world crisis, I have considered it my indisputable duty to try on several occasions to help the country out of the difficulties of the moment.” With these words, he acknowledges that he certainly had strayed in ‘one direction’ and that was certainly not in the direction of the Allies.

The author of this blog takes a keen interest on the fate of royalty during World War II. He narrates the wartime adventures of the Greek-born Princess Olga (onetime Consort of Prince Regent Paul of Yugoslavia) in Africa (and much else besides).

Prince Paul Of Yugoslavia meets Hitler.

On 2 March 1941, Prince Paul of Yugoslavia, the senior or ‘chief’ Regent of that country departed Belgrade for his Slovene holiday home at Brdo in what his Greek-born wife, Princess Olga, describes as ‘a depressed condition’. The Prince had every reason to feel so. Firstly, Italy had made no secret of its expansionist desires in the Balkans, as was evidenced by its recent invasion of Greece. Athough this incursion had, for the moment, been successfully repulsed, Prince Paul remained very much alive to the threat that Italy posed to Yugoslav independence. Secondly, the attitude of the British government left much to be desired. Oxford-educated Paul was known as ‘F’ or ‘Friend’ by the British for his solid Anglophile outlook. However, the British had repeatedly avoided the Prince Regent’s numerous requests for ‘material aid’ in the form of weapons and ammuntion etc.. Indeed, Churchill’s government had, until recently, been content with the Yugoslav’s neutral stance. Nevertheless, this had changed in January and February when the British government indicated that they wished Yugoslavia and Turkey to join with them to form a ‘united’ Balkan front to ‘fight’ (even if their own country was not invaded) and provide ‘speedy succour’ to Greece. Thirdly, and most pressing, were the demands currently being made by Germany for Yugoslavia to join the Axis Tripartite Pact. This matter had to be addressed as a matter of extreme urgency for, following Bulgaria’s accession to the Pact on 1 March, Yugoslavia now found itself surrounded by Axis-aligned nations on all borders, a fact emphasised when between twelve to fifteen divisions of German soldiers crossed the Danube into Bulgaria as Paul’s train travelled westwards. Ominously, ‘Fascists’ in Bulgaria were apparently calling out, ‘Down with Yugoslavia.’

Hence, Paul’s final destination was not to be Slovenia but the Berghof, Hitler’s residence in the Bavarian Alps near Berchtesgaden. Word of the meeting had gradually leaked out to the international press as far as Australia. The Fuhrer seemed to be in good form and according to German Foreign Office documents, he informed the Yugoslav Prince Regent that England had already lost the war and other nations would have to adapt themselves to a ‘new order’. Hitler mentioned that he was offering the Slavs a ‘unique opportunity’ to ‘establish and secure’ their ‘territorial integrity’ in this reorganised Europe. The Fuhrer indicated that in order to secure this preferential treatment, Yugoslavia would have to acceed to the Axis Tripartite Pact.

The Prince was not about to be rushed into a decision there and then. He parried that as far as he personally was concerned, the Greek descent of his wife, as well as his sympathies for England, made this a most difficult matter. There was also another complication: It also so happened that one of the ‘founding’ signatories of the Pact was Mussolini’s Italy. Prince Paul firmly believed that Mussolini and Italy were responsible for the assassination of King Alexander of Yugosalvia in Marseilles in 1934.

Nevertheless Hitler persevered and stressed that Yugoslavia, through accession to the Tripartite Pact, could rely on Germany both as a ‘partner’ and a ‘guarantor’ of both her present and future territory. The latter was a reference to Germany’s tempting offer that should they sign the Pact, ‘when the war ended, Salonika would go to Yugoslavia’. The Fuhrer also declared that his country only expected Yugoslavia to acceed. The Slavs would not, however, be asked to participate militarily in any war.

Prince Paul ‘reserved’ his position, having already indicated that if he did as the Germans asked, his position in Yugoslavia might become untenable. The Regent further declared that as this was such a serious matter, he would have to discuss the matter with the cabinet on his return to Yugoslavia. Soon thereafter, the German Foreign Minister, von Ribbentrop contacted the German Minister in Belgrade, von Heeren, and informed him, ‘Please do everything you can in every possible way to hasten the accession of Yugoslavia [to the Pact]’. The Prince, meanwhile, left Bavaria convinced that ‘war was inevitable but that we had to gain time to be able to moblize.’ His viewpoint was echoed by the international press in headlines ‘BALKAN VOLCANO NEARING RUPTION..’

A new biography Princess Olga of Yugoslavia:Her Life and Times was published on 1 April 2021 by Grosvenor House Publishing. This is now available to purchase on Amazon. ISBN 9781839754425

King of the Belgians Freed by US Troops.

When German troops invaded Belgium, on 10 May 1940, King Leopold III of the Belgians decided (in direct opposition to the advice of the Belgian Cabinet who were relocating to London) to remain with his people rather than go into exile. On 28 May, with the military situation now all but hopeless, the King (who was in Bruges) decided to surrender the Belgian army to prevent further bloodshed both among his troops and the general populace. He also released a message, telling his people, ‘I will not leave you in these tragic moments. I shall stay with you to protect you and your families and your fate will be mine.’

On Hitler’s orders, Leopold was taken captive and sent back to Brussels, on 29 May. There, he was met at the entrance hall of his home , the Château de Laeken, by a German officer. As the hour was early, the King then proceeded to his bedroom to rest. Looking out of the window, he spotted two German foot soldiers keeping guard. This military presence quickly made him realise that he was now a prisoner-of-war in his own home.

At first life for the royal family (the widowed King and his three children, Josephine-Charlotte, Baudouin and Albert) was reasonably comfortable, despite the fact that half of the Château was soon commandeered by the German occupying forces. Furthermore, Hitler was keenly aware of the need to keep Leopold under close surveillance and so he appointed an experienced German diplomat, Colonel Werner Kiewitz as ‘gardien en chef’ to the King. Kiewitz was a fluent French speaker and any communications between Hitler and the King (and vice-versa) were channelled through him. He also acted as a ‘gatekeeper’, controlling all access to the King and accompanying him on any trips outside of the palace. When Leopold subsequently made a request to swap his palace for a villa, ‘Les Bouleaux’, at Tervuren, it was promptly turned down. The King did eventually have an audience with Hitler at Berchtesgaden, on 19 November 1940, in an attempt to persuade the Führer to release Belgian POWs, and issue a public statement about Belgium’s future independence. Sadly, the meeting proved unproductive.

However, romance was in the air and, on 11 September 1941, the King remarried in a religious ceremony held in the Royal Chapel at Laeken. His second wife was the British-born Lilian Baels, the daughter of a former Governor of West Flanders. She was given the title of the La Princesse de Réthy. Lilian gave birth to a son Alexandre in July, 1942.

Prior to the Allies landing in Normandy on 6 June 1944, Leopold had made a ‘testament politique’ for he had a premonition that the Germans might seek to relocate him and his family from Belgium. Indeed, there had already been an earlier threat to do this after the King had written to Hitler, in November 1942, remonstrating against Belgians being sent to work in factories in Germany, as forced labour. Leopold had aggravated the situation by also raising the matter twice with the President of the Red Cross in Belgium, Doctor Nolf. Indeed, on 18 February 1943, the Führer sent a special envoy (General Muller) to Brussels by air to inform the Belgian monarch that his approaches to the Red Cross (as well as those to Berlin) had irritated Hitler and instructing Leopold, ‘on pain of deportation’ to not further violate the restrictions imposed on him as a prisoner-of-war. In fact, Hitler was now firmly of the view that if the Allies mounted an invasion on mainland Europe, the King should be moved to Hirschstein Castle near Dresden.

Sure enough, on the evening of 6 June 1944, while Allied troops were beginning their invasion of Normandy, Colonel Kiewitz called on His Majesty and informed him politely that, on the direct orders of the Führer, he was being moved to a new location in Germany. They were to leave at 7am the following day. Despite the King making a last-minute appeal to the German Military Governor, General Alexander Von Falkenhausen, the decision stood. Leopold was permitted to take only one suitcase and was driven away in a German staff car accompanied by Kiewitz and an SS motorcycle escort. The first stop on the journey was made at 4pm at the Château Royal at Ciergnon. It was only at this stage that the King was informed by Kiewitz that his wife and children were also to be deported from Belgium. Fortunately, Leopold was able to make contact with Lilian via a direct telephone line to Laeken. Thereafter, although the King had still not yet been informed of his final destination, he was required to resume his journey, stopping for the night at the Hotel Brasseur, in the city of Luxembourg. Leopold eventually reached Hirschstein Castle, a medieval edifice situated on a promontory on the banks of the River Elbe, on the evening of 9 June.

In the meantime, following upon her telephone converation with her husband, on 7 June, the Princesse de Réthy had attempted to delay her departure by protesting that some of the children were ill. Furthermore, on 8 June, she lodged a formal appeal with the occupying power. This was backed up by a telegram sent directly to Hitler by the German-born Queen Mother, Elisabeth. The King had also written a note to the German authorities from Ciergnon indicating that he wished his wife and children to remain in Belgium. However, all these attempts were in vain. At 3am, on 9 June, a Major Bunting called on the Princess and informed her that her appeal had ‘been rejected’ and that she and her party were due to depart Laeken later that day. Lilian was a formidable woman and she immediately contacted Cardinal Van Roey, the Belgian Primate, as well as senior officials of the judiciary, to intercede on her behalf. Nonetheless, she eventually had no option but to comply with the German order and, at 6.30 that evening, she and her children (driven in a requisitioned royal car) headed a convoy of several cars and two lorries (carrying food and fuel) which was escorted by a group of German army outriders and a detachment of the Gestapo. Included in the Princess’ party was the children’s tutor, Vicomte Gatien du Parc Locmaria and the King’s Private Secretary, Monsieur Willy Weemaes. The Court Physician, Dr. Charles Rahier was a late addition.

Princess Lilian’s convoy followed roughly the same 500-mile route as that of the King, with the first night being spent at the Hotel Brasseur in the city of Luxembourg and that of 10-11 June at the Hotel Elephant in Weimar. It was during her stay at the latter, that Lilian was peremptorily informed that most of those accompanying her were ‘not authorised’ to proceed further. Worse still, she and her son Alexander were to travel separately from the King’s older children. Following some ‘violent protestations’ on the part of the Princess, the latter idea was quickly abandoned. Furthermore, some of the accompanying party-including the tutor and private secretary-were allowed to proceed. The somewhat diminished convoy arrived at the gates of Hirschstein Castle late on the evening of 11 June.

Meanwhile, on 14 June, radio stations in Belgium broadcast the news that the King and his family had been removed from the Château de Laeken, at the personal request of the Führer. The reason given was that the recent ‘Anglo-American’ air attacks over Laeken had rendered this location unsafe. The King’s new residence, listeners were assured, was of a standard ‘in keeping with his rank and position’. This was somewhat stretching the truth, for although the accommodation at Hirschstein was adequate (if somewhat cramped) and the family were able to take daily exercise in the extensive grounds, other conditions there were far from ideal: a new ‘gaoler’ named Colonel Otto Lurker had been appointed. He was terrified that his charges might try to escape, so he deprived them of all contact with the outside world. Soon, letters from friends sent through emissaries in neutral countries, such as Sweden and Switzerland, were intercepted with a vengeance. Furthermore, the property was surrounded by three-metre-high walls topped with barbed wire and patrolled by a team of guard dogs. For good measure, a unit of sixty SS Guards (ultimately overseen by a Gruppenführer Von Alvensleben) kept up a constant (and vigilant) watch over their royal prisoners.

On 1 February 1945, Von Alvensleben informed the King that, owing to the rapid advance of Russian forces, he and his family’s stay at Hirschstein Castle was over. He was relocating them to southern Germany, on his own initiative. However, only Leopold and his family were to be taken there. The other Belgians in the group would be transferred to another location. The King refused to agree to this and immediately telegraphed Von Kaltenbrunner in Brussels. An impasse followed but on 6 March, Colonel Lurker informed His Majesty that he and his family were now being sent to Austria. Leopold, Lilian and the children would travel by car, while other members of the royal party were to take the train.

The 300-mile journey, which commenced at 4am on 7 March, was not without incident. During a snowstorm in Munich, the royalties were forced to take shelter for the night in seedy hotel and on other occasions their progress was interrupted by Allied aircraft patrolling overhead. Indeed, when the royal family reached the outskirts of Salzburg the following day, they were forced to abandon their cars and seek shelter in a tunnel for three hours. Thus, it was late in the evening of 8 March before the little group reached their final location, a villa in Strobl, some 50km south east of Salzburg, on the shores of Lake Wolfgangsee. Conditions there were similar to those at Hirschstein, with the property again being surrounded by a barbed wire fence patrolled by guard dogs. However, the military guard had now risen to seventy. Furthermore, the accommodation was somewhat incommodious and food was scarcer to come by. Indeed, the children seemed to be constantly hungry. For the King, the one high point was the receipt of a letter-the first in nearly eleven months- from his mother, Queen Elisabeth. Nevertheless, Colonel Lurker remained a menacing presence.

On 29 March, American troops advanced into Austria, a fact of which the King remained completely unaware. Similarly, in Belgium, the liberation of which had been completed by 4 February, there was no clue as to the King’s whereabouts, so tight had been Lurker’s control of information. Then, on 7 May, while looking out of a window, Leopold spied an American tank approaching the villa. As the German guards seemed to have suddenly disappeared, he sent out one of his officials to investigate. Soon, two officers of the US Seventh Army, a Colonel Wilson and his colleague Major Howard, entered the hall of the royal residence and were astonished to find the King and his family standing there. According to Leopold’s recollection, when he informed the Americans of the whereabouts of the SS guards, they exclaimed, ‘Come on. Let’s go and shoot them!’ However, the King soon diffused the situation by saying, ‘ No, not in our house.’ He then indicated that the guards should be taken prisoner by the Americans and then brought before their Commanding Officer for questioning, adding , ‘He will decided their fate.’ Leopold’s reward was to receive a final Nazi salute and a cheeky ‘Heil Hitler’ from his former captors, as they were taken away in trucks.

Meanwhile, the King-who was now dizzy with the joy of freedom and determined to return to Brussels as soon as was practicable-requested that General Alexander Patch, who commanded the US Seventh Army, be informed of his whereabouts. This news was duly passed on by Patch to the Belgian authorities. Events then moved on quickly: Leopold’s brother Charles (who had recently been appointed Regent in his brother’s absence) arrived at Strobl on 9 May accompanied by the Belgian Prime Minister, Achille Van Acker, and representatives from other political parties. It gradually became apparent, following various meetings at Strobl and later at Saint Wolfgang (to where the royal party had relocated on 18 May) that Leopold’s return home was going to be much delayed due to various complications including social and political unrest. As the King was no longer regarded as a symbol of unity in Belgium, the question of his abdication also hung ominously in the air.

In October 1945, the King and his family moved to Switzerland and installed themselves in the smart Villa Reposoir at Pregny, a suburb of Geneva. They were to remain there until 22 July 1950 when they returned to Brussels. However, following the King’s homecoming, the situation showed no sign of settling down and support among government ministers was hemorrhaging . Thus, on 31 July, Leopold was forced to delegate his powers to Baudouin, who was now given the title of Prince Royal. On 16 July 1951, King Leopold III formally abdicated and Baudouin ascended the throne. It was a sad ending to a reign, which in the early years with his first wife, the iconic Queen Astrid at Leopold’s side, had shown such promise.

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.