MARTIN WILLING – chairman of the local branch of the Royal Air Forces Association – marks the 85th anniversary of the commencement of the Occupation of Jersey in 1940 – an event, Martin argues, as significant as the Island’s eventual liberation in 1945
1) THE Second World War started on 3 September, 1939, after Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain failed to receive an acknowledgement from the German government after their unprovoked attack on Poland, an ally of the British. Meanwhile, Jersey’s Lieutenant-Governor had already called up the Island’s militia to be prepared from 2 September.
Needless to say, there was chaos within the confines of Britain’s government and civil service – and Jersey echoed this situation. A lot of cross-communication ensued, which was finally sorted out on 11 September, when the Island’s Governor was given authority to call out the militia, and also to communicate directly with the War Office. On the 16 September 1939, the States of Jersey issued a statement of loyalty to the Crown, and – on 20 May 1940 – the government finally passed the National Service Law in Parliament, and requested that the Channel Isles do the same, with Jersey complying by 3 June.
Gradually, it dawned on both the UK and Jersey governments that there was a war on, and that Jersey and the rest of the Channel Isles could be an attractive target for the rampant German army. This period after the declaration of war, and before the German Blitzkrieg, started in early May 1940, and became known as the “Phoney War”. Although the RAF and the Navy operated relatively successfully, the Army planned more slowly for the war to come.
2) There was a lot of planning and ordering to be done, and, very briefly, the British government also debated the strategic use and purpose of the Channel Islands – and concluded that there was none. As we will see later, the British government then filed this information in a quiet corner until their realisation that invasion by sea or air from France in 1940 was a distinct possibility.
3) On 7 April 1940, the Germans invaded Denmark and Norway, thus bringing to an end the so-called “Phoney War”, and the British Government now had even more on its plate. Nevertheless, it found time to place 50 Naval ratings on Jersey to assist the militia in defending the airport and other potentially useful installations from any potential invader. The Lieutenant-Governor wrote several times to inform and enquire about the Island’s defence, but generally received courteous but non-specific answers. It became clear that the Islands were considered to have no strategic value, and would be very difficult to defend in any way, yet no English Government Department was prepared to admit this.
4) On 2 May 1940, the Channel Shipping programme for the summer was announced with three boats per week initially leading up to a daily service on 12 July. Two days later Jersey Airways were inviting potential customers to fly to the mainland by air – and also to holiday in Guernsey by air from Jersey!
By now, with the heavily censored news broadcasts ringing in their ears, Jersey’s population was beginning to have their doubts. Local pubs were thick with both smoke and rumour, but nothing substantive other than the price of Jersey “spuds”, which was discussed with due seriousness. By now the situation was beginning to dawn on the Island’s government, as well as on the population, and volunteers were called for on 17 May to join the “Island Defence Force”, a sort of “Dad’s Army” who might defend the airport with forks and rakes.
From mid-May onwards, some 250 boys from the Army Technical School at St Peter’s Arsenal were given the job; together with a number of carts and lorries, they were deployed around the small grass airfield to deter German aircraft landing. The lorries and carts were filled with earth and stones with a view to rapidly repairing any bomb craters. Still, local life went on and evacuation was not even thought about, for there were more pressing things, such as the potato market, 500 pickers from Ireland and the coming tourist season to discuss. Some prescient natives did start to make quiet preparations, but, above all, the decision became an individual one.
5) With the serious and not-good news being censored by the British government, and the BBC only publishing a refreshingly innocent version of events, Jersey’s population could only speculate what the outcome might be, and this they did in spades. Always a healthy pub population, the Islanders debated at great length about the outcome – and also what they might do about it. With not a lot to go on, most thought that the Germans wouldn’t get to the Channel Islands as the British Armed Forces would stop them. No one fully took in the disaster at Dunkirk, and the fact that only 330,000 men had been rescued, and that they had left all their equipment behind. Nobody debated the past five years of appeasement carried out by the Chamberlain government, while Hitler re-armed and thumbed his nose at Europe’s leaders. No one had taken any notice of the goings-on with Franco in Spain, and the military assistance (particularly the Luftwaffe) that Hitler had provided.
The Spanish operations gave Hitler a head-start when it came to Blitzkrieg in Poland, and then following westwards on 10 May. One couldn’t expect the then relatively simple and certainly uninformed Jersey population to have grasped anything like this, so their pub-chatter generally failed to arouse anything important as the month of May wore on.
It would be easy to blame the Jersey government of the time too, for they were kept in the dark by their British overlords, and even the Lieutenant-Governor spent almost 99% of this time in touch with the War Office only, who were licking their wounds and extremely unlikely to pass on any bad news post Dunkirk.
6) On 10 May, Hitler started his “Blitzkrieg” invasion of Holland, Belgium, Luxembourg and France with a lightning thrust through Holland and Belgium, and a smaller, entirely tank-driven punch through the Ardennes Forest.
The Dutch and Belgian forces soon collapsed, and the French became very nervous, refusing to join the British eastern march to face off the German advance. They were very wise, for the Ardennes thrust took everyone by surprise, outflanked the Maginot line, and enabled the Germans to swing north and surround both the British Expeditionary Force and the French along with them.
By 26 May, the British evacuation of Dunkirk began, and, luckily for the surrounded forces, the Germans stopped to gather their reserves and support columns, thus allowing the British to extract 338,226 British and French soldiers back to safety in the UK.
7) For a period including May 1940, a Fleet Air Arm Squadron of Fairey Albacores was stationed at the airport to provide the Navy with some sort of seaborne air power at this time. Belonging to 826 Naval Air Squadron, all but one of the aircraft was flown out on 29 May. The remaining unserviceable one was a gift to the Germans in the event, because it was thought that they repaired it in the following months and used it as a “hack”. In the meantime, the Germans continued their charge westward, the River Marne proving to be no obstacle, and on 9 June Paris was declared to be an “open city” to avoid being smashed to pieces, and the Germans duly entered it the following week. This provided Hitler with one of his greatest PR moments of the war so far, when he rushed westwards to be photographed looking towards the Eiffel Tower along with several officers, and latterly having the same railway coach that was at Compiègne, and that was used to sign the German surrender at the First World War’s end, and used to sign France’s surrender in the second.
8) In June 1938, the Home Office began to consider how it might put the Channel Islands on a war footing. They concluded that Defence Regulations would have to be brought in at short notice, and wrote to each Island to ask what extra foodstuffs, and regulations, might be required in the event of war.
Obscure regulations were dusted off, and both Bailiwicks were told that they would have to make their own regulations and arrangements, while keeping all of this most secret, so that their populations would not be alarmed. That most essential of all supplies – food – was considered at length and, after much deliberation, a Director of Food was appointed in Jersey, and a system whereby the Island’s needs could be installed, and supplied.
In the event, it all came to naught after the German invasion, but I won’t deal with that here. Close co-operation between the two Bailiwicks was vital, but proved difficult to implement, and inevitably fell to pieces as the month wore on. Above all, the absolute secrecy with which such preparations were made for war to envelope these beautiful holiday islands, made it certain that war, when it came, would be a complete surprise.
In Jersey, the uneasy population began to realise that a German invasion was a very real possibility, and some even made their life-changing decisions, and planned to go to England. There was still absolute silence from the authorities, and certainly no mention of any discussions that they might have had with the government in London.
9) Meanwhile, on 10 June, Italy declared war on Britain and France, and on 11 June, no fewer than 15 Whitley bombers from 77 and 102 Squadrons re-fuelled here on their way to and from Turin on a bombing raid. Around this time the Bailiff and the Lieutenant-Governor were telephoning both the War and Home Offices to try to discover what was going on, and what the future might be. It is thought that around this time the decision was taken to de-militarise the Channel Islands, as they were considered indefensible from the direction of France. Sadly, however, this decision was not published until later – with disastrous results.
Not surprisingly the fact that the Islands might be lost to the British cause began to sink in, for despite being regarded as indefensible, they could also be militarily defended – and they could become a thorn in the side of the French-based Germans.
On 28 May, the Lieutenant-Governor sent an assessment to the War Office and, on 5 June, to the CIGS, and this was duly passed around most of the interested offices, and also quietly and secretly debated by many. In particular, it illuminated in their minds the PR disaster that would ring around the world when the news got out, but they considered the Islands indefensible and this fact centred the War Office’s mindset. It was hurriedly decided that a small detachment of Bofors guns would be sent to Jersey to defend the airfield and up to a Battalion of Men made ready to come to the Island and defend it.
This decision – taken in the greatest of secrecy – lasted until the safe arrival of the British survivors from those landed at Cherbourg just prior to the German arrival there.
10) Jersey’s States decided to go for a “cabinet” style of government and formed the Superior Council by 12 June, comprising the heads of the various committees with the Bailiff as its chairman.
This council met on a weekly basis and made the Island much more manageable. On 14 June, the Lieutenant-Governor, Major General JMR Harrison and the Bailiff, Alexander Coutanche, sent a further enquiry as to what the UK government intended to do now that the Germans were on the doorstep.
On 16 June, the War Office decided that the 1,500 personnel of the Machine Gun Training Centre in Alderney should be brought to Guernsey and Jersey to help defend the airfields. This was achieved on 17 June but in almost total secrecy, leaving a few Alderney citizens stranded and in much doubt.
A second British Expeditionary Force had been sent to France via Cherbourg, to try and stem the German advance, but had failed.
On 16 June, Major General Harrison received a cable from London asking that small craft and ships be despatched from Jersey to St Malo to evacuate the remnants of this force. This was achieved by members of the St Helier and St Aubin’s Yacht Club, and the remnants of this shattered Force continued on towards St Nazaire, where they boarded the Liner Lancastria. Fully loaded with some 9,000 souls on board the ship set sail and was immediately bombed by the Luftwaffe, with the loss of some 5,000 lives.
11) On 17 June, Jersey Airport hosted General De Gaulle, after his DH89 Rapide aircraft of the RAF’s 84 Squadron stopped to re-fuel on its way from Bordeaux to Croydon. It was lunchtime and, with the airport restaurant closed, the General and his party were taken to the Alexandra Hotel in St Peter for lunch. They then bought a crate of whiskey and continued on their journey, leaving the airport at 3pm.
12) I have dealt with the military and political situation in the Islands, UK and indeed Europe, but what of the people of Jersey? By this time, BBC News broadcasts were heavily censored and the true picture was very difficult to discern. People, most of whom had been through the First World War, just couldn’t accept that Germany had battered its way so quickly westwards, and that in just over a month they had captured Paris. In any event, their own government was putting a brave face on the face of it, and keeping a tight silence on all the communications between themselves and London.
On Monday 17 June, Jurat EA Dorey, representing both Jersey and Guernsey, flew to London to speak earnestly to anyone in the government who might listen. He pointed out that there were perhaps 3,000 young men of military age, who could be expected to provide additional manpower to the British Armed Forces; apart from that, the rumours spinning around both islands were such that something had to be done, and a decision made and publicised. With Dorey returned by 19 June, the British government decided to de-militarise the Islands but keep this info “secret”.
On 20 June, the Bailiff let it be known that the Islands would be de-militarised and that certain arrangements would be made shortly, once the dust had settled.
In the event two passenger ships departed for Jersey and Guernsey, and spent two hours in each port boarding all military personnel and material, before heading back to England’s Channel ports.
The following day the Lieutenant-Governors of both Jersey and Guernsey departed on naval ships – and Jersey and Guernsey were on their own.
13) On 19 June, the British Government, having decided not to try and defend the Channel Isles, informed the States that the population could be offered evacuation, and that this would be started at once using coal and potato boats, with passengers travelling as deck cargo.
They also promised to send Channel Ferries and other more suitable ships to help, as it was anticipated that there would be a rush of people to leave.
Unfortunately, the British government neglected to tell the Germans or the rest of the world that this was going to happen. This was an inexplicable decision, and whether it was deliberate or accidental it had consequences a little later.
Meanwhile the news of evacuation spread like wildfire and huge queues formed outside the Town Hall and elsewhere as people queued to get tickets or passes or anything that would entitle them to a passage out of the Island.
It was entirely chaotic, for although many had radios, the news came from England as there was no local radio station, and so rumour spread like a contagious disease, and facts were never known. In the event, people seeking evacuation were allowed to take one small suitcase per person, and were just allocated ships or boats on which to travel, with no seating or cabins being assigned.
Marjorie Grimshaw remembers that she and her mother were walking down Gloucester Street to go to the beach when they met her father coming in the other direction from the hospital. He told them to go home at once and to pack a suitcase each as they were going to England. No argument or decision change for them, and they were on a boat on 20 June bound for Weymouth.
Likewise, Derek Touzel, a 16-year-old at the time, remembers that they had moved temporarily to a friend’s house in La Chasse, next to the Forum Cinema, when his father became very worried about the imminent arrival of the Germans. Luckily, they had a friend who was a harbour pilot, and he arranged for them to travel on a small 1,000-tonne general cargo boat called the Wyr. They drove down to the harbour early in the morning of 28 June, with four folk inside their Morris Oxford and four hanging-on and standing on the running boards. They left the keys in the car’s ignition and jumped on to the boat, which immediately left for Weymouth and safety.
14) By 21 June, 10,361 people had taken this option, being just under 20% of a population of 51,462, after the military personnel had been evacuated on 20 June, and the Lieutenant-Governor left on a Naval ship on 21 June. That day, the Bailiff Alexander Coutanche was sworn in as Civil Governor of the Island, and all other Crown Officers were instructed to remain at their posts. The chaos continued, with pets and unwanted farm animals being destroyed by local vets and the Animal Shelter, and people’s houses and properties being left abandoned, along with cars, personal possessions and anything else that would not fit in a small suitcase.
The town and harbour were soon jammed with abandoned cars, bikes and other means of transport, and, for those who elected to stay, there some rich pickings to be had. However, it must be said that there was not an enormous amount of pilfering, nor of civil unrest because, with the sounds of gunfire reaching the Island from France, it was clear to all that everyone faced a very uncertain future whichever option they took.
In the shape of Jersey’s Bailiff, the Island was extraordinarily lucky, for, as ever in British history, cometh the hour, cometh the man.
The later-knighted Alexander Coutanche had the organisational skills, moral leadership and absolute sense of right from wrong needed to lead the Island through those dark Occupation years.
15) A quieter period then ensued, although the Germans mounted reconnaissance flights over the Island on 18, 21 and 24 June, and daily thereafter. On 21 June, almost the entire population of Alderney departed via Guernsey, whereas Sark’s small population stayed in place after the Dame, Sibyl Hathaway, declared that all should stay. The Germans still believed that the Island was fortified and defended, as they had missed or chose to miss the British announcement to the contrary when it eventually came.
On 28 June, Heinkel 111 Bombers carried out an “armed reconnaissance”, and, believing that potato lorries were Army trucks carrying ammunition, they bombed the harbour at La Rocque and St Helier, killing a number of people in the process.
To those left behind, it was a timely reminder that the German invaders meant business, and their arrival was anticipated with dread. In London, the US Ambassador, Joseph Kennedy, was asked to inform the German authorities that the Islands were de-militarised on 30 June.
16) Guernsey was formally occupied by troops flown into its airport on 30 June, but Jersey was left until early on 1 July, when three copies of an ultimatum to surrender were dropped on the airfield at Jersey. This called for red crosses to be painted on clear spaces, and that the authorities should be ready to surrender, but events were overtaken when one of the aircraft, with Oberleutnant Kern on-board, landed at Jersey. With the good Oberleutnant marching in front of it with his pistol, it taxied towards the terminal to be met by Mr Charles Roche, the Airport Commandant. Further troops and naval personnel were flown into the Island that afternoon, and thus the Island was occupied.
17) And so began five years of Occupation by the German military, an act that the German authorities had no intention of ever revoking, for Hitler, by this time, had decided that, whatever the outcome, the Channel Islands should remain German.
These must have been very frightening times for all concerned, and it is difficult to imagine the fear and dread that must have gripped the Island.
*With grateful thanks to Mr Michael Ginns’ excellent book, Jersey Occupied, and Charles Cruickshank’s excellent official history of the Occupation years, both of which provided most of the facts documented in this article.
I am indebted, too, to the Jersey Library for placing at my disposal copies of the Evening Posts from those times, and for the Jersey Archive for their valued assistance and provision of photographs.
The run-up to the Island’s Occupation
