Our attack at that point shifted to strategic bombing of London. Churchill asserts tho' ns G,), mina' "all mistne. In the provocative41 terror-bombing of our cities which required stern immediate42 retaliation43, and the fact that invasion had to be tried before October 1 or not at all, the shift was almost mandatory44. I discuss this point in detail in my daybyday analysis of the campaign. The Purpose of "Eagle Attack" Adierangriff, the Luftwaffe's "Eagle Attack" on England in the summer of 1940, was essentially45 a peacemaking gesture. It was a limited effort, intended to convince the British that to prolong the war would serve no purpose. The effort had to be made before the attack on Russia, to protect our rear to the westward46. That it failed was of course a tragedy for Germany, since we were condemned47 to carry on this climactic world battle on two fronts. Historians are curiously48 slow to realize that it was more tragic49 for England. Germany, after all, entered the war with little to lose, but in 1939 England was the world's first power. As a result of the war, though a supposed victor, she lost her world-girdling empire and shrank to the size of her home islands. Had the Adieranqriff induced her to make peace with Germany in 1940, that empire would almost surely still be hers, so it is hard to understand why the so-called Bottle of Britain was her "finest hour." Her pilots performed with dash and valor29, like'their German racial cousins. But England threw away her last chance to prolong her world role, linked to a vigorous rising continental50 power; after that, she allied51 herself with Bolshevism to crush that power, Europe's last bastion against barbaric Asia; and she become as a result a weak withered52 satellite of the United States. This debacle was all the work of the visionary adventurer Churchill, to whom the people had never before given supreme office. Churchill cost himself in the role of St. George saving the world from the horrible, German dragon. He had the pen and the tongue to push this legend. He himself always believed it. The English believed it long enough to lose their empire, before becoming disillusioned53 and voting him out. Hitter and England Of all things, Hitler wanted no war with England. To this, I can personally testify. I do not need to, for it is written plainly in his turgid and propagandistic self-revelation, Mein Kampf. I saw his face at a staff conference on the day that England gave its strategically insane guarantee to Poland. I saw it again by chance in a corridor of the chancellery, on September 3, when contrary to Rib14 aive,) t.eons (--t of bad weather, bentrop's assurances, England marched.
That time, it was the face of a shattered man. It is impossible to understand what happened in 1940 without having this fact about Adolf Hitler firmly in mind, for from the start of the war to the end, German strategy, German tactics, and German foreign policy were never anything but this man's personal will. No world-historical figure, when entering the scene, ever made his aims and his program clearer. By comparison, Alexander, Charles XII, and Napoleon were improvisers, moving where chance took them. In Mein Kampf, Hitler wrote in bombastic56 street-agitator language what he intended to do upon attaining57 power; and in the twelve years of his reign55 he did it. He wrote that the heart of German policy was to seize territory from Russia. That effort was the fulcrum58 of the Second World War, the sole goal of German arms. He also wrote that before this could be attempted, our traditional enemy France would have to be knocked out. In discussing England, Hitler in Mein Kampf praises the valor of the race, its historical acumen59, and its excellent imperial administration. Germany's grand aim, he says, must be a Nordic racial alliance in which England maintains its sea empire, while Germany as its equal partner takes first place on the continent and acquires new soil in the east. From this conception Hitler never departed. When Churchill spurned60 his many peace offers, he felt a frustrated61 fury, which he vented62 on the Jews of Europe, since he felt that British Jewry was influencing Churchill's irrational63 policy. Almost to the hour of his suicide, Hitler hoped that England would see the light and would come to the only sensible arrangement of the world that was possible, short of abandoning one half to Bolshevism, and the other half to the dollar-obsessed Americans-the outcome the world must now live with. In these considerations lies the secret of the failure of Adierangriff; of our arrival at the coast, facing panicky England, without an operational plan for ending the war; and of the persistently64 unreal air about the Sea Lion plan, which, after elaborate and costly65 preparations, never came off. In the last analysis, the set-piece invasion did not sail because Hitler had no heart for beating England, and somehow our armed forces sensed this. The Air Battle The battle went in several stages. The Luftwaffe first attempted to make the British fight over the Channel, by attacking shipping66. When the R.A.F would not come out and fight for the ships, Goering bombed the fighter bases. This forced the British fighter planes into the air. After knocking them about pretty badly, Goering-pushed by Hitler because of unconscionable British bombing of our civilians-sent in his bombers in the great Valhalla waves against London and other major cities, hoping to cause the people to depose68 Churchill and make peace. Hitler's July 19 speech, though perhaps a little blustery in language, had set forth69 very generous terms. But all was in vain, and the October rains and fogs closed gray curtains on the weary stalemate in the air. So ended the "Battle of Britain," with honors even, and England badly battered70 but gallantly71 hanging on.
Most military writers still blame Goering for our "defeat" over England. But this falls into the trap of the Churchillion legend that the Luftwaffe was beaten. That Germany's sparkling air force could do no better than fight a draw, I do, however, lay to Goering's charge. Despotic political control of an armed force, here as in Case Yellow, again meant amateurism in the saddle. Hermann Goering was a complicated mixture of good and bad qualities. He was clever and decisive, and before he sank into stuporous72 luxury, he had the brutality73 to enforce the hardest decisions. All this was to the good. But his vanity shut his mind to reason, and his obstinacy74 and greed crippled aircraft design and production. Until Speer come into the picture, the Luftwaffe was worse hit by bad management and supply on the ground than by any enemy in the air, including the Royal Air Force in 1940. Goering vetoed excellent designs for heavy bombers, and built a short-range air force as a ground support tool. Then in 1940 he threw the lightly built Luftwaffe into a strategic bombing mission beyond its capabilities75, which nevertheless almost succeeded. As a ground support force, the Luftwaffe shone in Poland and France and in the opening attack on the Soviet76 union. It fell off as our armies got further and further away from the air bases; ut for quick knockout war on land, its achievements have yet to be surpassed. In popular history-which is only Churchill's wartime rhetoric77, frozen into historical error-Hitler the raging tiger sprang first on Poland, then insensately turned and tore France to death, then reached his blood-dripping claws toward England and recoiled78 snarling79 from a terrible blow between the eyes from the R.A.F. Maddened, blinded, balked80 at the water's edge, he turned from west to east and hurled81 himself against Russia to his doom82. In fact, from start to finish Hitler soberly and coolly-though with selfdefeating amateurish83 mistakes in combat situations-followed out the political goals laid down in Mein Kampf, step by step. He yearned84 to come to terms with England. No victorious85 conqueror86 ever tried harder to make peace. The failure to achieve this peace through the Eagle attack was of course a disappointment. It meant that our rear remained open to nuisance attack from England while we launched the main war in the east. It meant we had to divert precious limited resources to U-boats. Above all it meant the increasing intervention87 of America under Roosevelt. The Final Tragedy These nagging88 results of British obduracy89 festered in Adolf Hitler's spirit. He had in any case an unreasonable90 attitude toward the Jewish people. But the regrettable excesses which he at last permitted trace directly to this frustration91 in the west. A Germany allied with England even with a benevolently92 neutral England-would never have drifted into those excesses. But our notion was beleaguered93, cut off from civilization, and we became locked in a mortal combat with a primitive94, giant Bolshevist country. Humane95 considerationswent by the board. Behind the line, in conquered Poland and Russia, the neurotic96 extremists of the Nazi97 Party were free to give rein98 to their criminal tendencies. Hitler, enraged99 by the Churchillion opposition100, was in no mood to stop them, as he could have with one word. When crossed, he was a formidable personality. This was the most important result of the "Battle of Britain." TRANSLATOR'S NOTE: Roon's discussion of the Bottle of Britain is unacceptable. It is not a Teutonic trait to admit defeat gracefully101. I have read most of the important German military books on the war, and few of them manage to digest this bitter pill. But Roon's far-fetched thesis that Winston Churchill's stubbornness caused the murder of the European Jews may be the low point in all this literature of self-extenuation. His figures on the airplanes involved in the battle are unreliable. To be sure, few statistics of the war are harder to pin down. Depending on the date one takes as the start, the original balance of forces differs. Thereafter the figures change week by week due to combat losses and replacements102. The fog of war at the lime wos dense103, and both commands riddled104 ,with, tangled105 records. Still, no official source I have read calls it an equal match, as Roon calmly does. His assertion that the attack was a "peacemaking gesture" is as ridiculous as his claim that the outcome was a draw. If there is ever another major war, I devoutly hope the United States armed forces will not fight such a "draw." "Popular history" has it right. Goering tried to get daylight mastery of the air, the two fighter commands slugged it out, and he failed; then he tried to bomb the civilian67 population into quitting, First by day and then by night, and failed. The British fighter pilots turned the much larger Luftwaffe back, and saved the world from the Germans. The sea invasion never come off because Hitler's admirals and generals convinced him that the British would drown too many Germans on the way across, and in Churchill's words, "knock on the head the rest who crawled ashore106." A navy remains107 a handy thing to have around when the going gets rough. I hope my countrymen will remember this. There was no clear-cut moment of victory for the British. They really won when Sea Lion was called off, but this Hitler backdown was a secret. The Luftwore kept up heavy night raids on the cities, and this with the U-boat sinkings made the outlook for England darker and darker until Hitler attacked the Soviet union. But the Luftwaffe never recovered from the Battle of Britain. This was one reason why the Germans failed to take Moscow in 1941. The blitzkrieg ran out of blitz in Russia because it had dropped too much of it on the He/ds of Kent and Surrey, and in the streets of London.-V.H. ILVERY fat barrage108 baloons, shining in the cloudless sky ahead of the S plane before landcame in view, gave the approach to the British Isles109 a carnival110 touch. The land looked very peaceful in the fine August weather. Automobiles111 and lorries crawled on narrow roads, through rolling yellowand-green patchwork113 fields marked off by dark hedgerows. Tiny sheep were grazing; farmers like little animated114 dolls were reaping corn. The plane passed over towns and cities clustered around gray spired115 cathedrals, and again over streams, woods, moors116, and intensely green hedge-bounded fields, the pleasant England of the picture books, the paintings, and the poems. This was the end of a tedious week-long journey for Pug via Zurich, Madrid, Lisbon, and Dublin. It had begun with the arrival in Berlin of a wax-sealed envelope in the pouch117 from Washington, hand-addressed in red ink: Top Secret-Captain Victor Henry only. Inside he had found a sealed letter from the White House. Dear Pug: Vice118 C.N.O says you are a longtime booster of "radar." The British are secretly reporting to us a big success in their air battle with something called "RDF." How about going there now for a look, as we discussed? You'll get dispatch orders, and our friends will be expecting you. London should be interesting now, if a bit warm. Let me know if you think it's too warm for us to give them fifty destroyers. FDR Pug had had mixed feelings about these chattily phrased instructions. Any excuse to leave Berlin was welcome. The red-ink blare and boasts in the meager newspapers were becoming intolerable; so were the happy triumphant119 Germans in government offices, chortling about the pleasant postwar life that would start in a month or so; so were the women strolling the tree-lined boulevards, looking slyly complacent120 in French siM and cosmetics121. Pug even felt guilty eating the plunder122 in the improved restaurant menus: Polish hams, Danish butter, and French veal123 AL and wine. The gleeful voices of the radio announcers, claiming staggering destruction of British airplanes and almost no Luftwaffe losses, rasped his nerves as he sat alone in the evenings in the Grunewald mansion124 looted from a vanished Jew. An order to leave all this behind was a boon125. But the letter dismayed him, too. He had not walked the deck of a ship now in the line of duty for more than four years, and this shore-bound status appeared to be hardening. Walking home that afternoon he passed the rusting126 olive-painted Flakturm, and like nothing else it made him realize how glad he would be to get out of Berlin. People no longer gawked at the high tower bristling127 at the top with guns, as they had when the girder frame and the thick armor plates had been going up, Guesses and rumors128 about it had run fast and wild for weeks. Now the story was out. It was an A.A. platform for shooting at low-flying bombers. No high building could get in the lines of fire, for it rose far above the tallest rooftops jn Berlin, a crudeeyesore. So far the few English raiders had hugged maximum altitude, but the Germans seemed to think of everything. This gigantic drab iron growth, towering over the playing children and elderly strollers in the pretty Tiergarten, seemed to Victor Henry to epitomize the Nazi regime. The lonely cavernous house got on his nerves that evening, as his quiet-stepping Gestapo butler served him pork chops from Denmark at one end of the long bare dining table. Pug decided129 that if he had to come back he would'take a room at the Adlon. He packed suits and uniforms, the great weariness of an attache's existence: morning coa dress blues130, dress whites, evening uniforn-4 khakis, civilian street clothes, civilian dinner jacket. He wrote letters to Rhoda, Warren, and Byron, and went to sleep thinking of his wife, and thinking, too, that in London he would probably see Pamela Tudsbury. Next day Pug's assistant attache, a handsome co mander who spoke131 perfect German, said he would be glad to take over his duties and appointments. He happened to be a relative of Wendel! Willkie. Since the Republican convention, he had become popular with the Germans. "I guess I'll have to hang around this weekend, eh?" he said. "TOO bad. I was going out to Abendruh with the Wolf Stellers-They've been awfully132 kind to me lately. They said Goering might be there." "Go by all means," said Pug. "You might pick up some dope about how the Luftwaffe's really doing. Tell your wife to take along a pair of heavy bloomers-l' He enjoyed leaving the attache staring at him, mystified and vaguely133 offended. And so he had departed from Berlin. How the devil do you keep looking so fit?" he said to Blinker Vance, the naval134 attache who met him at the London airport. After a quarter of a century, Vance still batted his eyes as he talked, just as he had at Annapolis, putting the plebe Victor Henry on report for a smudged white shoe. Vance wore a fawn-colored sports jacket of London cut, and gray trousers. His face was dried and lined, but he still had the flat waist of a second classman. "Well, Pug, it's pretty good tennis weather. I've been getting in a couple of hours every day." "Really? Great war you've got here." "Oh, the war. It's going on up there somewhere, mostly to the south." Vance vaguely A,aved a hand up at the pellucid135 heavens. "We do get some air raid warnings, but so far the Germans haven't dropped anything on London. You see contrails once in a while, then you know the fighters are numng it up close by. Otherwise you just listen to the BBC for the knockdown reports. Damn strange war, a sort of airplane numbers game." Having just toured bombed areas in France and the Low Countries, Henry was struck by the serene136, wholly undamaged look of London, the density137 of the auto112 traffic, and the cheery briskness138 of Itbe well-dressed sidewalk crowds. The endless shop windows crammed139 withgood things surprised him. Berlin, even with its infusion140 of loot, was by comparison a bleak141 military compound. Vance drove Victor Henry to a London apartment off Grosvenor Square, kept by the Navy for visiting senior officers: a dark Hat on an areaway, with a kitchen full of empty beer and whiskey bottles, a dining room, a small sitting room, and three bedrooms along a hall. "I guess you'll be a bit crowded here," Vance said, glancing around at the luggage and scattered143 clothes of two other occupants in the apartment. "Be glad of the company." Blinker grimaced144, winked145 his eyes, and said tentatively, "Pug, I didn't know you'd become one of these boffins." "Boffins?" "Scientific red-hots. That's what they call 'em here. The word is you came for a look-see at their newest stuff, with a green light from way high UP." Victor Henry said, unstrapping his bags, "Really?" The attache grinned at his taciturnity. "You'll hear from the Limeys next. This is the end of the line for me-until I can be of service to you, one way or another." The loud coarse ring of a London telephone, quite different in rhythm and sound from the Berlin double buzz, startled Pug out of a nap. A slit146 of sunlight gleamed through drawn147 brovrn curtains. "Captain Henry? Major-General Tillet here, office of military History." The voice was high, crisp, and very British. "I'm just driving down to Portsmouth tomorrow. Possibly drop in on a Chain Home station. You wouldn't care to come along?" Pug had never heard the expression C-n Honw. "That'll be fine, General. Thank you." "Oh, really? jolly good!" Tillet sounded delighted, as though he had suggested something boring and Pug had been unexpectedly gracious. "Suppose I pick you up at five, and we avoid the morning traffic? You might take along a shaving kit142 and a shirt." Pug heard whiskeyish laughter in the next bedroom, the boom of a man and the tinkling148 of a young woman. It was six o'clock. He turned on the radio and dressed. A mild Schubert trio ended, one he had often heard on the Berlin station, and news came on. In a calm, almost desultory149 voice, the broadcaster told of a massive air battle that had been raging all afternoon. The PAF had shot down more than a hundred German planes, and had lost twenty-five. Half the British pilots had safely parachuted. The fight was continuing, the announcer said. If therewere any truth in this almost ludicrously understated bulletin, Pug thought, an astonishing victory was shaping up, high and invisible in the sky, while the Londoners went about their business. He found Pamela Tudsbury's number in the telephone book and called her. A different girl answered, with a charming voice that became more charming when Victor Henry identified himself. Pamela was a W.A.A.F now, she told him, working at a headquarters outside London. She gave him another number to call. He tried it, and there Pamela was. "Captain Henry! You're here! Oh, wonderful! Well, you picked the right day to arrive, didn't you?" "Is it really going well, Pam?" "Haven't you heard the evening news?" 'I'm not used to believing the radio." She gave an exhilarated laugh. "Oh, to be sure. The Berlin Radio. MY God, it's nice to talk to YOU. Well, it's all quite true. We've mauled them today. But they're still coming. I have to go back on duty in an hour. I'm just snatching a bite to eat. I heard one officer say it was the turning POirlt of the war. By the way, if inspection150 tours are in order for you, you might bear in mind that I'm working at Group Operations, Number Eleven Fighter Group." "Will do. How's your fiance?" "Oh, Ted3? Fit as a flea151. He's on the ground at the moment. He's had a busy day! Poor fellow, old man of the squadron, just turned twenty-nine. Loo here, any chance that we can sec you? Ted's squadron gets its spell off ops next'week. We'll undoubtedly152 come down to London together. How long will you be here?" "Well, next week I should still be around." "Oh, lovely. Let me have your number then, and I'll call you. I'm so glad you're here." He went out for a walk. London wore a golden light that evening, the light of a low sun shining through clear air. He zigzagged153 at random154 down crooked155 streets, along elegant rows of town houses, and through a green park where swans glided156 on calm water. He came to Trafalgar Square, and walked on through the Whitehall government buildings and along the Thames to Westminster Bridge. Out to the middle of the bridge he strolled, and stood there, looking at the untouched famous old City stretching on both sides of the river. London's top-heavy red buses and scuttling157 black little taxis streamed across the bridge amidan abundant flow of private cars. Berlin's sparse158 traffic had been mostly government or army machines. London was a no Flakturmcivilian city still, he thought, for all the uniforms. It had The British seemed to have produced their navy and their R.A.F from the mere159 table scraps160 of the prosperity still visibly spread here. Now these table-scrap forces had to hold the line. His job was to make a guess whether they would; also, to see whether their new electronic stuff was really advanced. Looking at this pacific and rich scene, he doubted it. He dined alone in a small restaurant, on good red roast beef such as one could only dream of in Berlin. The apartment was dark and silent when he returned. He went to bed after listening to the news. The claimed box score for the day was now a hundred thirty German planes down, forty-nine British. Could it be true? The small bald moustached general, in perfectly161 tailored khakis, smoked a stubby pipe as he drove, a severe look on his foxy much-wrinkled face. It had occurred to Victor Henry, after the phone conversation, that he might well be E. J. Tillet, the military author, whose books be greatly admired. And so he was; Tillet more or less resembled his book-jacket pictures, though in those the had looked twenty years younger. Pug was not inclined to start a conversationwith(man) this forbidding pundit162. Tillet said almost nothing as he spun163 his little Vauxhall along highways and down back roads. By the sun, Pug saw they were moving straight south. The further south they went, the more warlike the country looked. Signposts were gone, place names painted out, and some towns seemed deserted164. Great loops of barbed steel rods overarched the unmarked roads. Tillet said, pointing, "To stop glider165 landings," and shut up again. Victor Henry finally tired of the sin e and the beautiful rolling scenery. He said, "I guess the Germans too Ikea chad beating yesterday." Tillet puffed166 until his pipe glowed and crackled. Victor Henry thought he wasn't going to reply. Then he burst out, "I told Hitler the range of the Messerschmitt log was far too short. He agreed with me, and said he'd take it up with Goering. But the thing got lost in the Luftwaffe bureaucracy. It's a great mistake to think dictators are all-powerful! They're hobbled by their paper shutters167, like all politicians. More so, in a way. Everybody lies to them, out of fear or sycophancy168. Adolf Hitler walks in a web of flattery and phony figures. He does an amazing job, considering. He's got a nose for facts. That's his mark of genius. You've met him, of course?" "Once or twice." great admirer of mine, or so"I had several sessions with him. He's a he says. His grasp is quick and deep. The gifted amateur is often like that. I said Goering was making the same mistake with his fighter planes designing them for ground support-that the French were making with their tanks. You don't have to give a ground support machine much range, because the fuel trucks are always close at hand to fill them up. Those French tanks were superb fighting machines, and they had thousands of them. But the wretched things could only run fifty, sixty miles at a crack. Guderian drove two hundred miles a day. Some difference! The French never could get it into their heads that tanks should mass and operate independently. God knows Fuller, de Gaulle, and I tried hard enough to explain it to them." The car was bumping along 4 muddy detour169 past concrete dragons' teeth and a stone wall, ringed in barbed wire, that blocked the higbwa-". Masked workmen were raising clouds of gray dust with pneumatic hammers and drills. "There's foolishness for you." Tillet pointed170 at the tank trap with his Pipe. "Intended to halt invaders171. What this rubbish actually would do is reduce the maneuverability of our reserve to zero. Happily Brooke's taken charge now. He's cleaning all this out." Pug said, "General Alan Brooke, is that?" "Yes, our best man, a genius in the field. He managed the Dunkirk retreat. I was with his headquarters. I saw him demoralized only once. Headquarters shifting from Armentires to Lille." Tillet knocked out his pipe in dashboardtrayand(was) shifted his cold gray eyes to Pug. "The roads were crammed with refugees.(a) Our command cars could hardly move. The Armentieres lunatic asylum172 had been bombed. All the boobies had got out. There must have been two thousand of them all over the road, in loose brown corduroy pajamas173, moping, drooling, and giggling174. They swarmed175 around our car and looked into the windows, dripping saliva176, making silly faces, waggling their hands. Alan turned to me. it's a rout,. Ted," he said. 'We're lost, you know, the whole BEF's lost. We've lost the damned war." That's when I said, 'Never mind, Alan. There are a lot more lunatics on the German side of the hill, including the boss." Well, that made him laugh, for the first time in days. After that he became himself again. A word in season, the Good Book says." "Do you think Hitler's crazy?" Henry said. Tillet chewed at his pipe, eyes on the road. "He's a split personality. Half the time he's areasonable, astute177 politician. When he's beyond his depth he gets mystical, pompous178, and silly. He informed me that the English Channel was just another river obstacle, and if he wanted to cross, why, the Luftwaffe would simply operate artillery179, and the navy engineers. Childish. All in all, I rather like the fellow. There's(as) an odd pathos180 about him.(as) He seems sincere, and lonely. Of course"there's nothing for it now but to finish him off.-Hullo, we almost missed that Turn. Let's have a look at the airfield181." This was Pug's first look at a scene in England that resembled beaten Poland and France. Bent54 blackened girders hung crazily over wrecked182 aircraft in the hangars. Burned-out planes stood in sooty skeletal rows on the field, where bulldozers were grinding around rubble183 heaps and cratered184 runways. "Jerry did quite a job here," said Tillet cheerfully. "Caught us napping." The ruined airfield lay amid grassy185 fields dotted with wild flowers, where herds186 of brown cattle grazed and lowed. Away from the burned buildings, the air smelled like a garden. Tillet said as they drove off, 'Goering's just starting to make sense, going for the airfields187 and plane factories. He's wasted a whole bloody188 month bombing harbors and pottering about after convoys189. He's only got till the equinox, the damned fool-the Channel's impassable after about September the fifteenth. His mission is mastery of the air, not blockade. Define your mission!" he snapped at Victor Henry like a schoolmaster. "Define your mission! And stick to it!" Tillet cited Waterloo, lost for want of a few handfuls of nails and a dozen hammers, because a general forgot his mission. Marshal They's premature190 cavalry191 charge against Wellington's center, he said, surprised and overran the British batteries, gaining a golden chance to spike192 the guns. But nobody had thought of bringing along hammers and nails. "Had the), spiked193 those guns," said Tillet through his teeth-puffing angrily at his clenched194 pipe, chopping a hand on the steering195 wheel, and getting very worked up and red-faced-"had Marshal They remembered what the hell his charge was all about, had one Frenchman among those five thousand thought about his mission, we'd be living in a different world. With our artillery silenced, the next cavalry charge would have broken Wellin ton's center. We'd have had a French-dominated Europe for the next hundred and fifty years, instead of a vacuum into which the German came boiling up. We fought the Kaiser in 1914 and we're fighting Adolf right now because that ass6 They forgot his mission at Waterloo-if he ever kne", it." "For want of a nail the kingdom was lost," said Pug. "Damned right!" "I don't know much about Waterloo, but I never heard that version.
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devoutly
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| adv.虔诚地，虔敬地，衷心地 | |
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hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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ted
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| vt.翻晒，撒，撒开 | |
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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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crate
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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mighty
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citizenship
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technically
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confinement
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sloppy
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fumbling
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bribe
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rib
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imprisonment
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fascist
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17
shrillness
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| 尖锐刺耳 | |
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18
consul
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| n.领事；执政官 | |
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19
thwarting
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| 阻挠( thwart的现在分词 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
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20
primly
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| adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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21
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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22
placating
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| v.安抚，抚慰，使平静( placate的现在分词 ) | |
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23
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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24
portrayal
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| n.饰演；描画 | |
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25
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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26
meager
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| adj.缺乏的，不足的，瘦的 | |
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27
improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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28
disarmed
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| v.裁军( disarm的过去式和过去分词 )；使息怒 | |
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29
valor
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| n.勇气，英勇 | |
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30
defenders
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| n.防御者( defender的名词复数 )；守卫者；保护者；辩护者 | |
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31
bomber
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| n.轰炸机，投弹手，投掷炸弹者 | |
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32
bombers
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|
| n.轰炸机( bomber的名词复数 )；投弹手；安非他明胶囊；大麻叶香烟 | |
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33
extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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34
falcon
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| n.隼，猎鹰 | |
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35
aces
|
|
| abbr.adjustable convertible-rate equity security (units) 可调节的股本证券兑换率；aircraft ejection seat 飞机弹射座椅；automatic control evaluation simulator 自动控制评估模拟器n.擅长…的人( ace的名词复数 )；精于…的人；（ 网球 ）（对手接不到发球的）发球得分；爱司球 | |
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36
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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37
morale
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| n.道德准则，士气，斗志 | |
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38
radar
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| n.雷达，无线电探测器 | |
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39
dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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40
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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41
provocative
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| adj.挑衅的，煽动的，刺激的，挑逗的 | |
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42
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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43
retaliation
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| n.报复，反击 | |
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44
mandatory
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| adj.命令的；强制的；义务的；n.受托者 | |
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45
essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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46
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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47
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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48
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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49
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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50
continental
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| adj.大陆的，大陆性的，欧洲大陆的 | |
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51
allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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52
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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53
disillusioned
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| a.不再抱幻想的，大失所望的，幻想破灭的 | |
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54
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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55
reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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56
bombastic
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| adj.夸夸其谈的，言过其实的 | |
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57
attaining
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的现在分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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58
fulcrum
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| n.杠杆支点 | |
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59
acumen
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| n.敏锐，聪明 | |
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60
spurned
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| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
frustrated
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|
| adj.挫败的，失意的，泄气的v.使不成功( frustrate的过去式和过去分词 )；挫败；使受挫折；令人沮丧 | |
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62
vented
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| 表达，发泄（感情，尤指愤怒）( vent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
irrational
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|
| adj.无理性的，失去理性的 | |
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64
persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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65
costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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66
shipping
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| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
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67
civilian
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| adj.平民的，民用的，民众的 | |
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68
depose
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| vt.免职；宣誓作证 | |
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69
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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70
battered
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|
| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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71
gallantly
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|
| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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72
stuporous
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|
| adj.昏迷的，不省人事的，麻木的 | |
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73
brutality
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|
| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
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74
obstinacy
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|
| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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75
capabilities
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| n.能力( capability的名词复数 )；可能；容量；[复数]潜在能力 | |
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76
Soviet
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|
| adj.苏联的，苏维埃的；n.苏维埃 | |
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77
rhetoric
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|
| n.修辞学，浮夸之言语 | |
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78
recoiled
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|
| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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79
snarling
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|
| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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80
balked
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|
| v.畏缩不前，犹豫( balk的过去式和过去分词 )；（指马）不肯跑 | |
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81
hurled
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|
| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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82
doom
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|
| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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83
amateurish
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|
| n.业余爱好的，不熟练的 | |
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84
yearned
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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85
victorious
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|
| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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86
conqueror
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|
| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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87
intervention
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| n.介入，干涉，干预 | |
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88
nagging
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|
| adj.唠叨的，挑剔的；使人不得安宁的v.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的现在分词 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责 | |
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89
obduracy
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|
| n.冷酷无情，顽固，执拗 | |
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90
unreasonable
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|
| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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91
frustration
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|
| n.挫折，失败，失效，落空 | |
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92
benevolently
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|
| adv.仁慈地，行善地 | |
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93
beleaguered
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|
| adj.受到围困[围攻]的；包围的v.围攻( beleaguer的过去式和过去分词)；困扰；骚扰 | |
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94
primitive
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|
| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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95
humane
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|
| adj.人道的，富有同情心的 | |
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96
neurotic
|
|
| adj.神经病的，神经过敏的；n.神经过敏者，神经病患者 | |
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97
Nazi
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| n.纳粹分子，adj.纳粹党的，纳粹的 | |
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98
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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99
enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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100
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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101
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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102
replacements
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| n.代替( replacement的名词复数 )；替换的人[物]；替代品；归还 | |
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103
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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104
riddled
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|
| adj.布满的；充斥的；泛滥的v.解谜，出谜题(riddle的过去分词形式) | |
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105
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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106
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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107
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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108
barrage
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| n.火力网，弹幕 | |
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109
isles
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| 岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
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110
carnival
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| n.嘉年华会，狂欢，狂欢节，巡回表演 | |
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111
automobiles
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| n.汽车( automobile的名词复数 ) | |
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112
auto
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| n.(=automobile)(口语)汽车 | |
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113
patchwork
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| n.混杂物；拼缝物 | |
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114
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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115
spired
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| v.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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116
moors
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| v.停泊，系泊（船只）( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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117
pouch
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| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
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118
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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119
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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120
complacent
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| adj.自满的；自鸣得意的 | |
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121
cosmetics
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| n.化妆品 | |
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122
plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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123
veal
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| n.小牛肉 | |
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124
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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125
boon
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| n.恩赐，恩物，恩惠 | |
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126
rusting
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| n.生锈v.（使）生锈( rust的现在分词 ) | |
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127
bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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128
rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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129
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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130
blues
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| n.抑郁，沮丧；布鲁斯音乐 | |
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131
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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132
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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133
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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134
naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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135
pellucid
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| adj.透明的，简单的 | |
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136
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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137
density
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| n.密集，密度，浓度 | |
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138
briskness
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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139
crammed
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|
| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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140
infusion
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| n.灌输 | |
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141
bleak
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|
| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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142
kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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143
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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144
grimaced
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| v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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145
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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146
slit
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| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
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147
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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148
tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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149
desultory
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| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
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150
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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151
flea
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| n.跳蚤 | |
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152
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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153
zigzagged
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| adj.呈之字形移动的v.弯弯曲曲地走路，曲折地前进( zigzag的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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154
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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155
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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156
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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157
scuttling
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| n.船底穿孔，打开通海阀（沉船用）v.使船沉没( scuttle的现在分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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158
sparse
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| adj.稀疏的，稀稀落落的，薄的 | |
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159
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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160
scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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161
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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162
pundit
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| n.博学之人；权威 | |
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163
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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164
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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165
glider
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| n.滑翔机；滑翔导弹 | |
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166
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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167
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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168
sycophancy
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| n.拍马屁，奉承，谄媚；吮痈舐痔 | |
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169
detour
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| n.绕行的路，迂回路；v.迂回，绕道 | |
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170
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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171
invaders
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| 入侵者，侵略者，侵入物( invader的名词复数 ) | |
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172
asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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173
pajamas
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| n.睡衣裤 | |
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174
giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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175
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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176
saliva
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| n.唾液，口水 | |
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177
astute
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| adj.机敏的，精明的 | |
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178
pompous
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
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179
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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180
pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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181
airfield
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| n.飞机场 | |
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182
wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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183
rubble
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| n.（一堆）碎石，瓦砾 | |
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184
cratered
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| adj.有坑洞的，多坑的v.火山口( crater的过去分词 )；弹坑等 | |
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185
grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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186
herds
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| 兽群( herd的名词复数 )； 牧群； 人群； 群众 | |
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187
airfields
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| n.（较小的无建筑的）飞机场( airfield的名词复数 ) | |
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188
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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189
convoys
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| n.（有护航的）船队( convoy的名词复数 )；车队；护航（队）；护送队 | |
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190
premature
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| adj.比预期时间早的；不成熟的，仓促的 | |
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191
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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192
spike
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| n.长钉，钉鞋；v.以大钉钉牢，使...失效 | |
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193
spiked
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| adj.有穗的；成锥形的；有尖顶的 | |
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194
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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195
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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