Fight Them on the Beaches

These stories are a work of fiction. Where 'real-world' characters may appear, the nature of the divergent story means any depictions herein are fictionalised and in no way an indication of real events. Above all, characterisations have been developed with the primary aim of telling a compelling story.

Published by Sea Lion Press, 2019. All rights reserved.

Foreword

Katherine Foy

What if Hitler had invaded Britain?

Few periods in British history could be more iconic than the summer of 1940. If modern Britain possesses anything close to a shared national mythology, it is surely that which was forged in those desperate months when the nation stood alone against the apparently unstoppable menace of Nazi Germany. It is the period which most flavours the British popular history of the Second World War, being responsible for sentiments, images and phrases that endure nearly eighty years on. Churchill's most famous, most remembered speeches date from this fateful summer, as do lasting ideas of Britain's place in Europe and in the world. 1940 is the year that the proud but insecure imperial power becomes the tenacious underdog. It is the last heroic moment, the grand finale of one thousand years of island history – a moment when Britain was unquestionably 'in the right', when her sacrifices were noble, and when she served as a beacon to the free world. These are the images of 1940 that live on nearly eighty years later. Flawed though these perceptions may be, however prone to revision and cold objectivity they are, there can be no disputing that they remain potent and in many ways critical to Britain's self-image into the 21st century.

It should be no surprise that folk memories of 1940 live on, even as the year itself fades from living memory. Those memories survive through portrayal in books and film, a cultural recycling that began almost immediately in contemporary propaganda reels, which begat generations of war films, and which continues to this day in modern historical blockbusters like Dunkirk and Darkest Hour (both 2017).

Central to the 'spirit of 1940' must be the sudden existential threat felt by Britain and British people, and in turn by all those still fighting against the Axis powers after the fall of France. German military forces stood primed across the English Channel, that narrow body of water which for centuries had served as England's last defence against invasion. Those forces had bested every continental army yet set against them, over-run every allied European nation, and now stood ready to invade Britain herself. The perceived fear of invasion-by-sea runs deep in British – or more accurately English – cultural history. 1940 was certainly not the first time such fears existed, though it may well have been the last. It is perhaps because of this fear that the Battle of Britain and in particular 'The Few' are remembered so heroically, why stoic endurance of the Blitz lasted as long as it did, and why the ageing units of the Home Guard – of objectively questionable military worth – are affectionately remembered by their epithet of 'Dad's Army'.

In the end Hitler's invasion was never attempted – perhaps it never would have been. The focus of the War shifted elsewhere – the Balkans, Russia, the Pacific, Normandy – such that fears of imminent invasion gave way to a grim determination to fight the long war, and eventually to take that fight to the Germans' own homeland.

The genre of alternate history (or, in academic non-fiction, 'counterfactual history') has a tendency to disproportionately focus upon certain popular (or populist) topics. One of these, as might be expected, is precisely this might-have-happened period in British history. Given the importance of 1940 to both British history and (perhaps more importantly) to British self-image, it is unsurprising that the What if... scenario posited at the start of this foreword arouses a great deal of interest, discussion, and disagreement. What if Hitler had attempted to invade Britain? What if the German plans – officially code-named Operation Sea Lion – had been put into action? Would they have succeeded? At what cost would they have failed? What would the after-effects have been?

It is a truism widely held by the alternate history community that the topic of Operation Sea Lion has been 'done to death', that it is over-discussed, and that there cannot be a shred of originality left to uncover. It has been elevated to the level of an intellectual cliché, and in turn has become a narrative one. In 2019, only a hack would hack would write an alternate history story about a German invasion of Britain.

In presenting the following thirteen stories, I beg to differ with this judgement. This collection contains the work of some of Sea Lion Press' most creative and original authors, working with a wide variety of settings and perspectives. It includes both visceral fast-paced action – the sort which would not be out of place in a historical war film – and cold reflective pathos. There are stories which take place right as the invasion barges land, and some which are set decades afterwards. Some worlds are subtly different to our own; others are unrecognisable. What these story's authors have in common is a desire to explore a point of British history so iconic that it gave its name to this publishing house; and an urge to always ask "What if?"

My thanks to Tom Black for authorising this collection and for establishing Sea Lion Press, to Jack Tindale for his excellent cover designs, to Edward Feery for proofreading, and to all of the authors who have contributed to this collection, indulged my editing, and tolerated my stream of chasing messages and emails.

Fight Them On The Beaches

Nigel Waite

Early in the morning, 3rd June 1940. An intelligence officer – known, for our purposes, as Bill – made his way to Downing Street to brief the Prime Minister. No detail about which organisation he was in charge of – Loose Lips Sink Ships, after all.

He was ushered into the Prime Minister’s office, where Churchill stood up behind his desk. Gesturing for Bill to sit down, he said: Ah, good morning Bill. Thank you for coming in so early. I wanted your view on how things are going in France.

Well, Operation Dynamo is going well. I think we’re going to evacuate most of the troops from Dunkirk. The French army is under pressure. I’m not sure how much longer they’re going to hang on.

Yes. We’re planning to send Brooke to France with another force, but it sounds like they’re not going to do much good.

No, sir. We lost a lot of equipment and it’s going to take time to get a force together.

Leaning forward, the PM fixed his gaze on Bill. So we need to start thinking about what comes next. How much of a threat are the Germans to us?

Well, after this business in Norway, we don’t think they’re going to have much of a surface fleet left. Plenty of submarines, of course, but nothing that could land a significant amount of troops on our shores.

Could they use merchant ships?

Only if they capture a port, and we’re preparing to sabotage any port that looks like it might fall to them.

How about the Luftwaffe?

That will be a threat to us, especially after they set up bases in northern France. Most of the south-east will then be within easy range of their planes. They could easily land paratroopers anywhere there.

A strong enough force to capture a port intact?

We don’t believe so.

So your assessment is that the risk of invasion is low.

Yes, sir. Unfortunately.

Churchill’s head jerked up in surprise. Unfortunately?! What do you mean, man?

We’ve been looking at the likely losses on both sides in the case of an invasion. On the naval side, they’re going to have to commit their entire fleet, and there’s not much left of it. Against the Royal Navy we don’t expect much of it to survive. We expect our losses to be fairly light. They might use some submarines in the operation as well. The channel is really too shallow for subs to operate effectively; they’re a lot less dangerous there than in the Atlantic. So we would have a real opportunity to wipe out their surface fleet, sink some of their subs and kill or capture their paratroopers and any other elite units they might send in their first wave.

What about the Luftwaffe? Churchill demanded.

We’re going to be attacked by them anyway. In an invasion scenario we expect them to be trying to keep the Royal Navy away from their invasion fleet, supplying their troops and acting as a replacement for artillery as well as fighting the RAF. Quite frankly, they’re going to be overstretched.

I thought you said they wouldn’t have much of a fleet.

Ah, that’s the interesting bit. We’ve received some useful information from Bletchley.

Bletchley? A look of distaste passed over Churchill’s face. Oh, yes, I was there a few weeks ago. A bunch of academics and other weird types going on about getting machines to think. When we said they should leave no stone unturned recruiting for that place, I never thought they’d take us literally.

Hiding his own feelings, Bill replied: Quite. Well, they’ve intercepted some transmissions that indicate the Germans are thinking of using Rhine barges to carry the troops across the Channel.

Barges! Like canal barges?

A bit bigger than those, but basically yes.

Are they sea-worthy?

Not particularly. We think that a large wave could easily sink them.

So still not much of a threat. I don’t see why they’re important.

"They’re an important part of the German transport infrastructure. Normally it’s not easy to target transport. Even bombing a major rail yard doesn’t stand much chance of success. Against river transport we’ve got no chance. But here they’ll be bringing a large part of their river