National Affairs: In Chesapeake Bay

More than a fortnight ago a British battleship cleared from an undisclosed British port, carrying a tall, grave Englishman on a weighty mission. That mission might well turn out to be as important as any in British history. Lord Halifax’s problem was not, like his predecessor the late Lord Lothian’s, to state Britain’s case to a skeptical, suspicious U. S. The stubborn, gallant, outnumbered resistance of Britain had transformed U. S. opinion, not only about the war. but about the character of the people Lord Halifax was to represent. But if U. S. aid was to be effective, it must come quickly. And if the U. S. and Britain were to draw more closely together, innumerable lesser conflicts and misunderstandings would need to be ironed out between them.

At night Lord Halifax walked on deck. He talked to the men on night watch. This tall man of 59, deeply religious, had never been in the U. S.. nor had he met the unpredictable social reformer and statesman on whom Britain now counted —President Roosevelt.

H.M.S. King George V, fast, powerful, riding low in the water, plowed through the grey North Atlantic, her convoy of destroyers slipping along beside her. Five hundred miles off the coast the convoy was dropped; the battleship sailed on alone. At 6:16 on a grey, cold morning, ship watchers at the mouth of Chesapeake Bay reported tersely: ”British warship, King George V class, off Norfolk waters.”* Through a morning mist the battleship swung northwest, past the mouth of the Potomac, the inlets of Maryland’s Eastern Shore, to drop anchor, invisible in the rain and fog, five miles from the Naval Academy at Annapolis. If Lord and Lady Halifax were waiting for a first glimpse of the U. S. they saw a desolate one—a waste of grey water, a cold, grey day.

Soon after lunch a five-car Presidential cavalcade sped from the White House out of Washington to U. S. 50 (the Defense Highway), twisted over the wet, slippery road, through piny woods and swamps on the way to Annapolis. With the President were Secretary of the Navy Frank Knox, Chief of Naval Operations Harold Stark, White House Secretary “Pa” Watson, Naval Aide Daniel Callaghan, eight Secret Service men. As there was no precedent for Lord Halifax’s stepping down from the Foreign Office to become Ambassador to the U. S., so there was no precedent for President Roosevelt’s answering gesture of friendship in thus going out to greet an Ambassador, showing him honor generally reserved for the head of a State.

The rain had become a downpour. The Presidential yacht Potomac was tied up at the Severn Basin; while midshipmen and officers snapped to attention, the Executive flag broke out from the foremast, the President was piped over the side. On the King George V arrangements were made for the President to come aboard; but the Potomac only circled the huge battleship, slowly, to give the President a good look. A guard of honor of Royal Marines stood at present arms on deck and the band played The Star-Spangled Banner. A launch carried Lord and Lady Halifax from the King George V to the Potomac, and the Presidential yacht disappeared into the mist on a voyage with no immediate destination.

Newspapermen did not even try to find out what they talked about, yet certainly, in the four hours that the Potomac steamed over the grey Chesapeake, the President and Lord Halifax had a great deal of ground to cover. It was pitch-dark when the voyage and the conversation ended. The searchlight of the Potomac swung slowly back & forth, searched out the Naval Academy pier. As the Potomac came alongside, reporters could see the Presidential party still gathered around the dinner table. The saloon was warm and brightly lit; there was a bowl of pink roses on the table; President Roosevelt, at the head of the table, was talking animatedly and laughing while Lord Halifax listened.

Photographers mobbed Lord and Lady Halifax when they appeared on deck, got their pictures as the Ambassador apologized for keeping them waiting in the rain. He read a brief statement to reporters, standing on the cold, windswept deck: “Lady Halifax and I are very glad to be here . . . and now the President has done my country the great honor of coming to greet us on arrival. … I have come here, as a member of the War Cabinet serving as His Majesty’s Ambassador, to make known to the Government and people of the United States from time to time in what ways, if they are willing, they can best give us the help we need. The more quickly your generous help can be made effective, the sooner shall we be able to break this Nazi power that is trying to enslave Europe and the world.”

The Presidential cavalcade sped back to Washington to the British embassy, where Lord Halifax got his best night’s sleep since the war began. The King George V slipped out to sea as quietly as it had come. To many a U. S. citizen the dramatic appearance of Britain’s newest, biggest battleship (see p. 24) within the sheltered bay brought the war home as appeals to aid Britain and warnings of the danger of Britain’s fall had never succeeded in doing. In a day the U. S. had been given a glimpse of Britain’s naval strength, a working view of U. S. and British understanding.

* The rumor had already got around. Because its Washington correspondent was ill and it feared being left uncovered, the London Daily Telegraph Or Morning Post cabled its New York correspondent Alex Faulkner: Why not take a few days fishing on Potomac. Correspondent Faulkner ignored the wire with a disapproving glance, got another in an hour: Potomac fishing urgent what you doing. But he knew what was happening when he read the third: Definitely big fish . . . imperative you go fishing yourself.