The vision was his, but it could not have been fulfilled without the forging of the Grand Alliance and the enormous efforts and sacrifices of Britain’s friends. If British armies can enter the Continent in such strength and so well equipped, it is because the Americans are at their side and the flood of American war production has helped lavishly to swell their armament. And if they face a German army and a German air force reduced to a shadow of their former strength, it is because the Russians have whittled away Germany’s military strength by their own stupendous sacrifices. The Russian cry for a Second Front was always a cry of bitterest need, and now that the Second Front has come, it is only fitting that the Allies in the West should recognise the scale of their obligation to Russia’s efforts on the Eastern front. But gratitude is the last thing the Russians want. They want heavy blows, hard fighting and rapid victory. The British and Americans are now in a position to repay their debt to Russia in the best and most acceptable coin.
Even if the Great Powers have been the chief engineers of Germany’s deepening defeat, in the next weeks, the nations of Western Europe will bear the full brunt of the fighting. The hour for their active participation has not yet come, and all the Allied leaders have warned their peoples against premature uprisings which would lead to a loss of life and effort before the crisis is reached. But even during the passive phase, the peoples of Western Europe will be one of the factors in Allied victory. Their bearing under bombardment, their discipline in the midst and in the rear of the advancing armies have military importance, just as, in the past, their refusal to accept the New Order and their four years’ underground struggle have been military factors of the highest significance. To them, too, the Allies owe a tremendous debt and one which they will pay only in part by the act of liberation. Inevitably the Allies’ tanks and artillery and transport will add to the destruction which Allied bombing has begun. As passive or active agents in their own liberation, the peoples of Western Europe are paying a heavy price. It is not enough to free them. Behind the guns must come the food lorries and the mobile canteens. The physical basis of reconstruction barely exists in some areas. Invasion threatens to overlap the narrow margin of subsistence. The Allies will need to act vigorously if their friends are not to be liberated only to starve. Much, too, will depend upon the behaviour of the invading armies. The lessons taught by the Italian campaign on the dangers of overspending by the troops have presumably been learnt, and while it is too much to hope that men worn out from battle will always be the surest ambassadors of good will, each unit could at least go out with some instruction on the degree to which good behaviour, good discipline, good humour and kindliness can oil the wheels of occupation and lay the foundations of lasting friendship. Britain and America are, with whatever tact and reserve they may be compelled to act, in some sense the trustees of the future political freedom of the peoples they are liberating. Darlanism and expediency belong to the phase of military weakness and insufficiency. The Allies’ overwhelming strength enables them to choose where they will. If their choice is faulty or compromised, they may play a decisive part in undermining the peoples’ freedom and the nations’ friendship.
Yet when all the thanks are made and all the contributions measured, there still remain the final artificers of victory, the men who, in the King’s words “man the ships, storm the beaches and fill the skies.” Although the first advances have been secured with surprisingly little loss of life, the hardest fighting lies ahead. In the weeks to come, thousands of men will lay down their lives or suffer disablement, will endure pain and hardship and strain, will throw everything they have into the balance of victory without particularly asking why or counting the cost. For them at the moment there is not very much that the people who stay behind can do. They can keep vigil, as the King has asked. They can face anxiety steadfastly. They can accept the losses when they come; but the real effort of gratitude will only be needed later on, when the men come home. They will not have been given victory, they will have toiled and sweated for it, all the way from Alamein to Bizerta, from Sicily to Rome, in the jungles of Burma, on the landing beaches in France. They have been the active agents of every military success. It is their courage and initiative and adaptability and common sense that have completed the historic reversal of the last four years. It will not be enough for their elders to give them “food, work and homes”—the essentials of a decent post-war society. They must be allowed their place in that society, they must be given scope and opportunity and responsibility to run it themselves.
The men who ruled the country in 1913 were still ruling it in 1923, and in all too many dismal cases were still doing so in 1939. After this war, let the debt of gratitude be more adequately paid. The men who are air-marshals and generals in their thirties must not wait until the sixties for honour and responsibility in civilian life. The change cannot be brought about overnight, least of all while the war continues, but now is the time, when the men are fighting and dying and everyone with a heart and conscience is deeply aware of a tremendous debt, to register the firm resolve that, after this war, youth and enthusiasm will not be actual disqualifications for responsibility and that the new world will not only be built for the war generation but round them and by them as well.
