XV, and even before the Revolution it had the aspects of a museum. Except for a forest of antennas on the roof, the edifice in 1939 was externally much as it had been for 150 years. But the Navy had constructed a gastight underground air raid shelter there of reinforced concrete, designed to provide a safe working place for all the personnel in the building. It was at Rue Royale, center of information from all over the world, that the decision was made in August, 1939, to place the Navy on a war footing. And it was there that the final fatal information was received that plunged France into the chaos of another world conflict.
At daybreak on the 1st of September, following a so-called refusal on the part of the Warsaw Government to discuss the latest unacceptable proposals from Hitler, the German Army invaded Poland. In Berlin the British and French ambassadors solemnly warned Hitler that their countries would honor their commitments to Poland if this aggression was not halted immediately. In France general mobilization was decreed.
With the Navy’s personnel now up to strength of about 160,000,11 the Navy’s forces took their initial stations as planned in case of war with Germany and Italy. On the assumption that there would be a German raid toward the Moroccan coast, a barrier line of large submarines was posted off Vigo and the Portuguese coast. Other submarines were stationed in the Mediterranean.
Regulars—91,093, of which 5,486 were officers; Reserves—69,243, of which 4,820 were officers.
However, during the day Italy declared herself provisionally neutral. Accordingly orders were issued immediately to all French ships and planes that Italian shipping was to be approached with the utmost caution and provoking incidents were to be carefully avoided.
The 2nd of September was a day of suspense, with frantic diplomatic negotiations proceeding in all the capitals. The French Parliament voted the military credits asked for by the Government, but not once was the word “war” mentioned. The navy yards began ship conversions according to program.
That same day the Navy Ministry received information indicating that the German Fleet had sortied in force from its bases two or three days previously, but, upon being questioned, the British confessed that they had no information of its whereabouts. Remembering the bombardments of Bône and Philippeville which had marked the beginning of World War I, the French now feared a similar raid on the Moroccan ports. Accordingly the Raiding Force was ordered to proceed at high speed from Brest toward Casablanca, and the minelaying cruiser Pluton to lay a protective minefield off the Moroccan coast. However, these emergency measures were countermanded when later intelligence rendered them unnecessary. Even though there was no fighting, however, the French suffered their first naval casualty of the war, for the Pluton was destroyed on September 13 by an explosion while her mines were being disarmed prior to off-loading. The French Navy lost 215 officers and men killed or missing in the explosion.
The 3rd of September was the day when the question of war or peace would be decided. Unfortunately the diplomats of France and Britain had not coordinated their efforts, for the British ultimatum to Germany expired at 11 a.m., while the French ultimatum did not expire until 5 p.m. Consequently the Royal Navy’s liaison officers already working beside their counterparts in the French Naval Ministry had some anguished hours while they faced the possibility, however unlikely, that they might find themselves alone in the conflict. However, 5 o’clock came, with no reply from Hitler, and the hours of peace in Europe had run out.
General Gamelin, speaking for the Army, advised the Navy that he would not undertake any operations until 5 o’clock the next morning, the 4th of September. With the authorization of the Premier, however, the Navy sent out a plain language radio message to all its ships and stations notifying them of a state of war.
Within two days Paris had its first air raid alarm. At the Navy Ministry, a beehive of activity, all hands grabbed gas masks and rushed to the armored shelter underground. The alarm proved to be false, but it confirmed one thing: the shelter was far too small, and it was unbearably hot. At the “all clear” the exhausted, perspiring officers and men climbed from the enclosure and stretched themselves out, panting, on the floors and desks, without regard to rank or station. And Admiral Darlan decided that he and his staff would move immediately to the “standby” headquarters, established several years earlier at Maintenon as an emergency command post outside the capital.
In modern war a bird’s-eye view of the field of battle is no longer an essential to the military leader. The primary functions of a naval commander in chief are the coordination and analysis of information, and, in conjunction with the Ministries of the government and with the other services, the determination of a program of action, which is then transmitted to the various subordinate commanders for actual implementation. To fulfill these functions, it was not necessary for the Chief of Staff of the French Naval Forces to locate his headquarters either on board ship or in the Naval Ministry at the capital. The most important requirement for a headquarters location is that it provide an adequate communication and liaison network.
The Navy had pondered this problem for some time, and originally it had selected as headquarters several casemates of the old fort of Vincennes, an edifice erected by the kings of France in the 14th century, and located in the immediate suburbs of Paris. But the accommodations were clearly inadequate, and in addition the location was too close to the capital with all its intrigues, indiscretions, and political interference.
The Navy’s preference, Maintenon, was a charming village seventy kilometers west of Paris. Excellent national and international telegraphic and telephonic communications were assured by cutting in the Navy’s headquarters directly on telephone and telegraph trunklines laid underground to the capital. The radio network was equally satisfactory. High speed teleprinters provided permanent liaison with subcommanders. There was an airfield nearby. And finally, while the capital was reasonably near, it was not uncomfortably so.
In effect, life at Maintenon was very like life aboard ship. Personnel were forbidden to have their families in the village, and everyone had to obtain special permission before “going ashore,” as it were. The offices of the staff were a group of huts ranged under the trees of a beautiful park, though a circle of sentries surrounded all.
It was there that Admiral of the Fleet Darlan, Commander in Chief of the Naval Forces, and his staff would reside until the spring of 1940. To distinguish this command post or headquarters from the Ministry of the Navy, which would remain at Rue Royale in Paris, Maintenon was designated the “French Admiralty.” The three or four hundred people attached to the command were under the orders of the Chief of Staff (Rear Admiral Maurice Le Luc) and the Deputy Chiefs of Staff (Captain Paul Auphan and Jean Négadele). These three worked at the same table, to which was routed all incoming information and from which all outgoing orders emanated. In his free moments Admiral Darlan would join the group and watch his staff at work while he smoked his beloved pipe.
As correspondent at Paris the French Admiralty had a man who today would be called a “sage”—Professor Henry Moysset, who for twenty years had lectured at the Naval War College and who also had been the chief private secretary of Navy Minister Georges Leygues. Professor Moysset22 was intimately acquainted with Germany and the Germans, and his wide international contacts constituted precious sources of information.
In 1941 Moysset became Minister without Portfolio to Marshal Philippe Pétain.
In establishing his headquarters at Maintenon, on the opposite side of Paris from the battlefront, Admiral Darlan felt certain that he would never be forced to evacuate them, even though the frontlines should waver.
But the Admiral’s confidence was short-lived, for by June, 1940, the German invasion threatened to engulf it, and the French Navy’s headquarters moved to Montbazon, near Tours. Then, during the tragic days of the armistice, it moved successively to Dulamont, near Bordeaux, then to Nérac, and, finally, to Vichy.
