这个神秘非连正好撞上了我比较熟悉的领域，这下不得不好好鉴赏了
评价为何意味
新闻开源是什么b玩意啊
网络文学开源又是什么鬼，不过这个确实超出我的了解范围了
这俩词在搜索引擎直接查没有相关结果
还有我
看到你说的去扫了一眼
这啥狗屁不通的玩意啊
因为deepseek开源高潮了就嗯写开源吗
无知无智就开始写byd小文章了
大概就类似于乱用token一样乱用开源，见词思义的那种
搭建开源社区是何意味，把平台的代码开源吗
说半天就是把自己写的东西开放增删改权变成共创，叽里咕噜说啥呢
那条就是你改背景之后发的，怎么现在又改回去了
因为是限时活动（）
给你头像加个星星变这个
材料一勉强还是在说人话，除了吹得太过，好像人工智能发展和开源有什么必然联系似的（其实反而ai因为需要大量投入，开不开源你普通人也练不了
材料二就。。。参考资料“词元泄露登陆凭证”
这甚至是去年海淀二模
今天外面这么多鸟叫，有没有人知道是什么鸟
重学是个什么玩意
君子协定－坎宁安与亚历山大港法国舰队的谈判
https://www.usni.org/magazines/proceedings/1952/july/gentlemens-agreement#main-content
这个网站有阅读限制所以复制出来了
片段翻译：
另可参考，ABC自传相关片段翻译：
英文原文
A Gentlemen’s Agreement
By Russell Brooks, American Consul General (Retired)
July 1952
Proceedings
Vol. 78/7/593
Article
In Operations in North African Waters Samuel Eliot Morison, commenting on the possibility of an unopposed landing in North Africa, said, “It was not expected that anything could be done about the French Navy. The senior officers of that force with ancient and honorable traditions had been in a psychological state since the fall of France. With no part in the treachery and corruption that undermined French resistance they had every intention of sticking fast to what was left of their country; and for them Marshall Pétain was France.”
This statement by an unbiased historian must be kept continuously in mind for it helps to explain what might well be termed “The Tragedy of the French Admirals in World War II,” which, as inevitably as in a Greek drama, resulted in death for Darlan and Platon, imprisonment for Esteva, Auphan, Abriel, Laborde, Derrien, Le Luc, and (for lesser “offences”) dismissal from the service, disguised by the euphemism of “retirement.”
But Morison’s conclusion, “and for them Marshal Pétain was France,” demands fuller treatment without which no one unfamiliar with the servitudes of military duty—in Particular, obedience to orders—can understand their acts. In adhering to the regime of Marshal Pétain, the French admirals recognized him as a symbol only, the representative of France. Most of them were not Pétainists. Their sense of military duty—or virtue, if preferred—was not a personal attitude but the sincere conviction of a loyalty owed the legal government of their country. That Pétain happened to be the head of state had no other significance in their minds. With the possible exception of Darlan, French admirals were not politically minded. Military duty? A servitude not to be cast off lightly. Duty and—Mers-el-Kebir, for without the latter it would have been easier to conciliate the former!
This is the story of Force X, the French Near Eastern Squadron based on Alexandria, which never fired a shot against an enemy except Italian shore installations at Bardia, yet was a high diplomatic prize to be won only after its commander, Vice Admiral R. E. Godfroy, faithful to the tradition of the French naval officer, was assured that his personal honor was intact. An insufficient reason where the more widely conceived interests of the State are concerned? Robespierre once said, “Learn this truth. You cannot coerce conscience.” Like honor, conscience is intangible, rigorously personal!
Force X is Born
Toward the end of April, 1940, the entry of Italy into the war seemed certain. British and French naval strength in the Near East was practically non-existent; Sir Andrew Cunningham, with headquarters at Malta, had only a few ancient Australian destroyers fit only for convoying; the French Mediterranean Squadron was at Toulon and could not be weakened even to protect French interests in the Levant and the vital Suez Canal.1
From Empire outposts, Dakar, Indo- China, from dockyards and boneyards were gathered three old World War I battleships— Provence, Lorraine, and Bretagne; the heavy cruisers Duquesne, Tourville, Suffren, and Duguay Trouin; five venerable destroyers, and a net layer. This heterogeneous fleet, insufficiently armed, in part reservist manned, whose most modern unit dated from 1928, was confided to Vice Admiral Godfroy, an outstanding officer. Its junction with newly arrived British forces gave for the first time a powerful Near Eastern squadron. Godfroy fully understood the necessity for unified command and placed himself for all joint operations under the orders of Admiral Cunningham, retaining autonomy only in case of directives from the French Admiralty.
But the position of Force X was already critical. Beyrut, the nearest French port, was too small to shelter the squadron; Alexandria harbor was overcrowded. Moreover, the problem of ordnance supplies seemed insoluble, for it could only be met from France or from a French overseas base, There was on hand sufficient ammunition only for a single engagement and enough anti-aircraft shells to fight off only one attack.
Godfroy therefore suggested that his three battleships rally the Western Mediterranean squadron, and early in June the Provence and the Bretagne, escorted by two of the five destroyers, left for Bizerte. They were sunk a month later at Mers-el-Kebir. The Lorraine remained at Alexandria.
Italy declared war June 10, 1940, and combined operations against her were prepared, the first of which was a sweep of the Dodecanese on June 13. No enemy was met. The second was a bombardment of Bardia on June 21 by the battleships of the combined squadrons.
The following night there was to be an attack on Tripoli and Sicilian ports. The British sailed first, and Force X was underway when Godfroy received a message from Cunningham stating that the British Admiralty had ordered the movement deferred. No reason was given, but the French commander knew instinctively that a French armistice was in preparation. On June 23 he was informed from Bordeaux: “. . . if the armistice is signed . . . you will discontinue all operations and hostile acts and sail for Bizerte . . . ,” followed a few hours later by “ . . . all demobilized ships must remain French Scuttling against alien action (British) was ordered.
In loyalty to his superior Godfroy informed Cunningham of the messages. From that moment on he faced his responsibilities alone, for he could expect nothing other than advice from France.
First reaction of all overseas French was to continue the struggle. This soon gave way, slowly in the beginning, then rapidly as the legality and authority of the Pétain Government was conceded by, and with the support of, the vast majority of the French people; as further resistance in the actual situation was realized as useless; and as the hope grew that the Armistice, though bitterly disliked, seemed to offer at least a possibility of avoiding total occupation and saving the overseas Empire. Even the invincible Churchill said in August, 1941, that he foresaw the defeat of Great Britain if the United States did not declare war immediately!
What then remained for France, divided politically, occupied physically, defeated morally? Thus reasoned Godfroy, and he determined to maintain his ships as an independent autonomous French unit to be returned intact to France when hostilities ended, if the British would not allow him to depart for Bizerte. He had given himself a job which was to demand three years of unceasing effort.
In Force X the prospect of an armistice was variously accepted, often depending upon whether the officer or enlisted man was a professional or a reservist. Most of the latter welcomed it, even though it involved acceptance of a crushing defeat. The leftist Front Populaire Government in power in 1936 had condoned indiscipline and taken no action against subversive elements in the navy. In France, opposition to a continuation of the “imperialist war” was widespread and dislike of “fighting for the British and Poles” not hidden even in government circles.
Mers-el-Kebir*
An event was soon to occur that would influence, even dictate to, the French Navy the course it was to follow until November 27, 1942—the blunder of Mers-el-Kebir, without which there might well have been no resistance to the North African landings and certainly no scuttling of the fleet at Toulon.
From June 24 to the end of the month was a period of anxiety. Discussions between Cunningham and Godfroy to plan the future of Force X made no progress other than to prove the existence of a mutual desire to arrive at an equitable and honorable solution. Shore liberty accorded reservists was employed by them to create disturbances at times verging on riots and necessitating the personal intervention of Admiral Godfroy. Cunningham suggested returning the out-of-hand sailors to France or to a French outpost, preferably Beyrut; a French merchant ship would be assigned the chore.
During the night of June 24-25 Godfroy received a telegram from the French Admiralty instructing him to “hasten the execution”—referring to the message of the previous day directing the fleet to sail for Bizerte—an indication that an armistice had been signed. He informed Cunningham, who replied courteously that his orders were to detain Force X at Alexandria and asked Godfroy “to accept the situation as inevitable in the circumstances.”
It was a logical request. To facilitate unity of action, Force X had been given British naval secrets, plans of future operations; departure was out of the question. Godfroy informed the French Admiralty that he intended to neutralize his ships. The answer was a bitter and reluctant acceptance, under protest to force majeure; and ended the faint hope that the squadron might continue to fight against the Axis. It must remain inactive at Alexandria, waiting for the turn of the anti-Nazi tide.
“But,” Godfroy told the author, “without a previous agreement, the mere immobilization of my ships would oblige the British to do guard duty over them and seriously handicap the operations of their fleet. It would have imposed an unnatural and heavy burden on the only nation still fighting our common enemies.”
He called on Cunningham and gave his word that Force X would not sail without advance notice given; the British promised to make no attempt to seize the ships. Diplomats might well remember that gentlemen’s agreements are still possible, particularly when they are made between naval officers! This accord of June 26 very probably saved the squadron from the fate of other French ships captured by surprise on July 3 in British ports—on “Mers-el- Kebir Day” as it is called in the French navy. But it and other modus viviendi solutions were merely introductions to the problem that must be permanently solved without delay: Render Force X innocuous by mutual consent.
Cunningham proposed that French volunteers from the fleet man some of the ships and join with the British—and more logically, but even less acceptably, that Godfroy turn over his squadron to him. The position of the two admiralties was totally incompatible; immobilization was the one way out.
The following day Cunningham thanked Godfroy for an offer made to discharge his fuel oil as a material guarantee of his promise not to attempt a surprise sailing. The open good faith of both is a reproach to the “suspicious approach” with which others, particularly the Colonial Office (always fearful of French influence in the Near East) treated the affair.
Nevertheless the solution reached could only be provisional; higher authorities could always intervene, and the influence of the French Navy in the Vichy Government was soon to become very potent. Already Godfroy had been told that the Admiralty had no intention of accepting the “internment to which you appear resigned,” and that a final decision would soon be made.
In the meantime, and in spite of the discontented reservists, fraternization between the professional sailors of both sides increased. But Mers-el-Kebir was to wreck this better understanding. Unknown to Force X were “Churchill’s plans” to sink if he could not possess the squadron.
On July 2 Cunningham invited his colleague to a dawn meeting in the Warspite the next day. Upon his arrival the British admiral slowly and reluctantly drew a paper from his pocket, handed it to Godfroy. It was an irrevocable decision in the form of a triple alternative ultimatum, requiring Godfroy to (1) man his squadron with French volunteers and place it at the disposition of the British; or (2) to accept total disarmament, or (3) to proceed to sea and sink his ships!
Godfroy stared at it, dazed, unwilling to believe the menace it contained. The demand was brutal. Sick at heart, he requested a short delay to consider a reply the general tenor of which he had already formulated. The first alternative would be refused as incompatible with his duty. Such a decision must be made by the French Government. Force X was not his to dispose of. With the approval of his Admiralty he would accept the second alternative; if not, he had no other option than to choose the third. “ ‘Sink the ship’,” he said to me, “is an integral part of French naval tradition; in no circumstances must a war vessel ever fall intact into the possession of strangers.”
Godfroy says categorically, “Mers-el- Kebir would not have occurred if the Royal Navy, not the British Government, had been charged with the making of the decision, for it knew that civilian fears of surrender to the Germans were groundless.” Between sailors . . . !
Convinced that Cunningham hoped to save Force X, that its proposed sacrifice was in opposition to all his instincts, Godfroy asked for time. Give reason a chance. A “confidential” answer from Cunningham came early in the afternoon: “ … to avoid a disaster as painful to me as to you . . . will you agree to discharge your fuel oil and remove the warheads from your torpedoes?” That done, there would be time for other matters.
Now certain that Cunningham disapproved his orders and desired to negotiate, Godfroy began to pump out his bunkers and disarm his torpedoes. The British admiral was visibly relieved, hoped that scuttling would now be unnecessary, and requested another meeting in the Warspite at 0800, July 4. Matters were looking up.
But late in the afternoon of July 3, Force X operators captured fragments of messages from Admiral Gensoul at Oran to the French Admiralty. Even though incomplete, they were sufficient to establish that the British had presented Admiral Gensoul with an unacceptable ultimatum to which the only possible reply was “Resist.” The coincidence of Admiral Somerville’s demand on Gensoul and of Cunningham’s on Godfroy proved the existence of a common plan for the neutralization or the destruction of all French warships. Even the honest British conviction of the imperative necessity of eliminating French naval forces cannot condone the brutality with which Mers-el-Kebir was conducted. Yet, strangely enough, French reaction was chiefly limited to the French Navy; the morally and physically weary people of France had their own worries and Admiral Darlan himself was opposed to retaliatory action.
Disillusioned, indignant, Godfroy ordered his gig and boarded Warspite. He was received with full honors by the British who criticized openly the unnecessary attack on anchored ships at Mers-el-Kebir. Confronting an embarrassed and unhappy Cunningham, Godfroy told him that after such an “odious crime” he withdrew all of his previous offers and regarded himself as free to act as he judged fit. Cunningham did not deny that he had been instructed to destroy Force X if the ultimatum was not accepted. He had simply ignored the orders, hoping for a less painful solution, but he left no doubt that he intended to neutralize the French squadron— by agreement if possible, but one way or another.
The meeting terminated in mutual recrimination of the British authorities who had prepared the ultimatum and with the promise that neither would take any immediate action until they had “slept on it.”
Returned to the Duquesne, Godfroy found an Admiralty message ordering him to sail, by force if necessary. He replied, “ . . . squadron moored in such a position as to make a fighting sortie impossible—will resist if attacked and scuttle if required . . . .’’He had no other option: Force X was anchored far inside the harbor; no tugs were available; his ships were dispersed over a wide area; their first attempt to move would be the signal for the opening of close range fire by the immensely superior British fleet.
At midnight of July 3 Godfroy was awakened to be given another Admiralty message directing an immediate attack on the British. The dispatch ended with the sinister words, “an eye for an eye.” Had the French Admiralty also lost their senses, he wondered. But the termination and the use of several non-naval terms created doubts of its validity. He turned in again. Later he learned that Admiral Darlan had not yet taken over, and that the order had been issued by an anglo-phobe substitute.
Mers-el-Kebir had shown Godfroy the dangers of a surprise attack, and he cleared his ships for action. Both squadrons were now ready for any eventuality, although only the British turrets were turned in menace—their cannon horizontal, so close was the range, their battleships moored fore and aft to take advantage of the full weight of their broadsides. All night British destroyers had circled the French, ready to launch a torpedo attack. Planes on the carrier Eagle were ready to take off.
Godfroy had no intention of opening hostilities. He knew that the first British salvo could put him out of action, but he hoped that at the short range the 14’ shells of the enemy would penetrate the thin plates of his cruisers without exploding. If he was not destroyed by the first broadside, he had his answer prepared: a torpedo attack, four fish from each of his four cruisers, for Lorraine was far out on the flank, too distant to take part effectively in any way. He remembered Cunningham’s demand for the removal of warheads, and during the night had replaced them. He was ready, although his cannon remained at “secure” in their mounts.
When all the tragedy of Mers-el-Kebir was known, Godfroy had written, coldly official, to Cunningham, confirming his verbal revocation of all previous accords; but he still would not believe that the gallant Britisher would execute the “incredible orders of Winston Churchill” without making a last effort to reach a compromise.
Reasoning thus as he paced the admiral’s bridge of his flagship at dawn, he decided not to call to combat stations as the British had done; instead he would order routine duties: i.e. washing down, polishing, etc. His alone was now the responsibility, his to make the decision.
Shortly after sunrise July 4 Cunningham sent an officer to press Godfroy to take no immediate action of any kind. Bitterly Godfroy acceded. As the envoy left, a French officer observed to him that while British guns were trained on Force X, those of the latter remained in their normal fore and aft positions. A few minutes later Cunningham’s turrets turned, his guns returned to “secure.”
At 0800, Italian planes attacked, and a bomb narrowly missed Duquesne. Instantly Tourville replied! Somber threatening silence resumed, but another step towards understanding had been taken.
Near noon Cunningham broadcast an appeal in French: “. . . the British Admiral does not want to sink your ships. Why sacrifice them uselessly? We desire only their immobilization. . . prevent them falling into enemy hands. . . .”
Godfroy’s initial reaction was unpleasant; the appeal was clearly an invitation to insubordination, but he also had to recognize an attempt at conciliation coinciding with his own personal wishes.
“. . . the British Admiral does not want to sink your ships. . .Here was the real Cunningham, free from the prejudices and stubbornness of a Churchill.
“. . . our regrets at what took place are as deep as yours…Honest disapproval of the crime of Mers-el-Kebir.
“… it is madness to fight one another… Sheer common sense.
To Godfroy, nervously pacing his narrow bridge, the appeal made sense, became reason, and he knew that in spite of Vichy he must help Cunningham to justify his disobedience of Churchill’s instructions, must lend support to his understanding attitude, and he sent Commander Auboyneau to Warspite. A better choice could not have been made, for Auboyneau was an ardent partisan of de Gaulle.
Upon his return Auboyneau reported his conviction that a “demilitarization” under Godfroy’s orders and control, without British supervision of any kind, would satisfy Cunningham. Godfroy understood and appreciated the confidence accorded him, but decided the offer was unacceptable. He must endeavor to maintain his squadron on a war basis, ready for action when France reentered the struggle.
Still alone on the bridge, hoping, doubting, fighting an inner battle between strict obedience to orders and the real interests of France, debating his next step, Godfroy was informed at 1400 that his officers requested an interview.
An admiral is a lonely man; a conference might clarify his confused ideas, might encourage him to take the action he saw was the one way out. In his bare quarters, under the naked steel of the deck, he listened as they gave their opinion—to his own amazement not surprised, so far had his own thinking progressed—in favor of a compromise.
An hour later he had made his decision and informed Cunningham that although he would not accept the three point ultimatum, he would, if no pressure were exercised, immobilize his ships by discharging the major part of their fuel oil and remove the obturating pads from his heavy artillery and store them in the French consulate general at Alexandria, not to be removed by anyone other than a person designated by him.
Cunningham accepted. The simple promise of a French admiral was a sufficient guarantee. Honor was satisfied, he had not failed in his duty—at least so thought Godfrey. He did not know Vichy!
That Cunningham was greatly relieved is evident in the terms of his warmly personal letter of July 6 to Godfrey. With the frank faith of a great-hearted sailor, he expressed his admiration for Godfrey’s subordination of all the traditional pride inherent in a French naval officer to the interests of his country and the well-being of his men, and honored him for his decision. In strong words he disapproved Mers-el-Kebir, and added, “. . . our duty is to prevent such things happening here. . . .”
Finally, towards the end of this timeless July 4 came a message from the French Admiralty approving the action Godfrey intended to take if attacked: that is, “. .. to defend himself, or scuttle…” Admiral Darlan had assumed his post, and the “eye for an eye” policy was out.
“. . Measures have been taken so that these ships (Force X) will accept our demands or be sunk. . . ,” Mr. Churchill had said; but he was not a true sailor, although pretending to the title, and great was the gain for better Allied relations when Admiral -Godfrey won the acceptance of his proposals. But suppose the understanding Cunningham had not been there!
An Unusual Agreement
The agreement between the two commanders, prepared July 5, signed July 7, may well be unique in history. The express orders of the two governments were disregarded and the accord was and remained wholly personal, and could not be revoked, modified, or added to without the mutual consent of its signatories. A change in command would require an entirely new contract. This became necessary two years later when Cunningham was assigned new duties. The document was never submitted to either government, and an enlightening omission is that it makes no mention of the removal of obturators and firing mechanism—Godfroy’s word was enough! Of no importance were the red seals, the protocol, the ceremonies that such an agreement would have merited, if it had been drafted by other than two naval officers!
Briefly this unusual compact provided for the maintenance of the French ships in their actual condition, after removal of obturators and firing mechanisms; for repatriation of surplus personnel until a number to be decided upon was reached; for the retained personnel to take no hostile action against the British; for the squadron not to attempt to leave Alexandria; for the British not to attempt to seize the vessels by force; for food and pay to be a charge on the British Government; for French personnel to have shore liberty at will and the right to correspond by letter with France, subject to normal wartime censorship; and for official correspondence to be free of all control! Moreover the Duquesne was authorized to use its wireless, provided no information concerning British military movements was sent. Hostilities terminated, the squadron could return immediately to France. As a precautionary measure, a clause was included providing that should the Axis seize French naval vessels in French ports and employ them against the British, the agreement was to be subject to further discussion.
It was a generous contract, a gentlemen’s accord of two navy men each having confidence in the integrity of the other. Godfroy was even authorized to code his messages to the French Admiralty! For three years Force X lived under its terms in spite of continuous attempts by the Free French, supported by members of Parliament, of the Foreign Office, and in particular, of the Colonial Office, to revoke it, for Cunningham refused to discuss it with anyone and would put no pressure on Godfroy. His successors at times lacked the same understanding.
The Effects of Mers-el-Kebir
Thus terminated the first and most dangerous of the four major crises involving the fate of Force X. The others were the Syrian affair, Rommel’s advance towards Alexandria, and the North African landings. All were serious, but it should be understood that the word “crisis” is employed to emphasize the degree of intensity; actually an atmosphere of crisis was always present, for which Mers-el-Kebir was chiefly responsible.
The French Navy is a closely knit group, almost a family, in which Bretons predominate. Fathers, sons, brothers, cousins serve the fleet. Of the 1650 victims of Oran, many were related to men of the Near Eastern Squadron, making reconciliation peculiarly difficult when all the details of the attack were known. Anglo-French naval hostility, reduced to a friendly traditional rivalry since the Entente Cordiale, was renewed overnight.
To Admiral Godfroy, anglophile in sentiment, Mers-el-Kebir was another of those numerous attacks which “the English found advantageous to make,—at liberty to honestly repent a few years or a few centuries later and erect a monument to the victims !” It was a tragic error for which the Allies paid dearly, for there can be no doubt that French naval opposition to the North African landings had its source in the Oran drama.
The British at Alexandria were the first to attempt a return to pre-Mers-el-Kebir relations. They were rebuffed by the hostile reserve of the French and finally realized that only time—and a great deal of it—could cure the resentment of the French Navy. Attempts by the French National Committee in London, aided by the Foreign and Colonial Offices, the British press and radio in Egypt, and Gaullist elements in Alexandria, all supported by ample funds, to recruit Force X personnel for war service, failed because of Mers-el-Kebir. During the remaining six months of 1940, only seven officers and 139 enlisted men—a total of 3%—heard and obeyed the call to scission.
In September, 1941, the Syrian Affair further embittered relations between Force X and its hosts. That Syria was a Free French objective was well known: General Catroux had been in Egypt encouraging the idea and de Gaulle had visited Cairo earlier in the spring. Moreover, the operation would coincide with the unvarying policy of the British Colonial Office to “get the French out of the Near East.” Naively, General Catroux informed the Syrians that they would be “liberated,” a promise greatly regretted by de Gaulle in 1945, when British and Syrian pressure terminated the French mandate.
An excuse was soon available—the alleged presence of German planes in Syria— and a wave of anti-French feeling swept Egypt. The campaign under General Wilson —Wavell having strenuously opposed the operation, for which “un-Churchillian attitude” he was “promoted” to the Indian theater—was happily brief.
In Alexandria tension between Force X and British enlisted personnel was fever hot, and shore leave was cancelled by Godfroy. Another repercussion was an attempt by the British Admiralty to revise the terms of the “Admirals’ Agreement,” an attempt fortunately successfully resisted by Cunningham.
In 1942, the occupation of Madagascar, without reason except for the acquisitional interest of South Africa—since the excuse of a Japanese invasion had no foundation of fact, while the ships and troops required could have been used to better advantage at Bir-Hakeim and El Gazela—added to the squadron’s sense of injustice.
On January 6, 1942, Egypt broke diplomatic relations with France, against, said Godfroy, the opposition of King Farouk who was constrained to accept the decision by the British or be replaced on the throne. To this use of pressure Godfroy attributes much of the later anti-British sentiment shown in Egyptian government circles— Farouk’s revenge!
Towards the end of March Admiral Cunningham informed his colleague of his assignment to duties in Washington, and on May 19 he was replaced by Admiral Sir Henry Harwood, victor over the Graf Spee and an old and respected acquaintance and gallant sailor.
Without discussion a modified agreement was concluded by which the French obtained even more favorable terms than those accorded by the original contract: i.e., (1) common measures to be taken for the security of Force X in the event of Axis threat to Egypt; (2) rotation of personnel, provided Godfroy continued to be in command; (3) resumption of forwarding of official correspondence by diplomatic pouch (Swiss); and, finally, (4) the clause “immobilization of fleet to cease when war is terminated” modified to “when war in Europe is terminated.” And again neither government was consulted, the agreement continued to be a personal one!
But Rommel’s menace grew. In response to an inquiry from Harwood as to what Force X would do should Alexandria be abandoned, Godfroy replied: (1) remain in port if refused permission to depart, or (2) rejoin a French port if the British were no longer there to prevent him. He would be prepared to sail for Tunis the moment the British evacuated. If the Axis should attempt to seize the ships, the squadron would be defended, or scuttled if necessary.
On June 26 one of the now rare Admiralty directives arrived. Godfroy was ordered to “attempt to rally a French port, but NOT, repeat NOT, a British one—in no event will you follow the British in their retreat” —and, in reconfirmation of former instructions—“in no event must our ships fall intact into the possession of others. . . .” The Admiralty’s position had never varied.
On July 2 when only Force X remained at Alexandria, Godfroy was informed by Vichy that the Axis Armistice Commission had reaffirmed the immunity of French naval vessels and had renounced all claims to the squadron—a somewhat gratuitous gift in view of future military developments! Should the squadron follow the British, however, the conditions of the Armistice would be considered as ruptured.
And then unexpectedly, abruptly, Rommel’s advance was checked, halted. The British held. The tide was full, soon it would ebb, and the pawn that was Force X began to lose its importance as a stake in the game. However, diplomatic moves were behind phase with the rhythm of military events, for in the middle of July, Under Secretary of State Sumner Welles said, “… if they [the French] do not obey British orders to pass through the Canal, the British have the right to sink them—.”
The Egyptian press began an acrimonious, contentious campaign against the squadron, and in Great Britain it was so widely believed that the French Navy would “collaborate” that the First Lord of the Admiralty was obliged to explain the situation to Parliament, “… Force X,” he said, “would neither follow the British nor fall into enemy hands. . . .”
But suppose Godfroy had agreed to go through the Canal? Rupture of the Armistice would undeniably have ensued. With the Free Zone of France occupied its Mediterranean shores would have been in Axis possession, French North Africa would have been brought hundreds of miles nearer and possibly taken over. The Allied landings in November would have been made much more hazardous, if not impossible. On such apparently unrelated contingencies, victory or defeat may well have hung!
It is not an exaggeration to say that the naval battle of Casablanca was a major factor in determining Godfroy’s attitude during the next several months. Force X was informed of the North African landings at 0345, November 8. Its reactions were characteristic—they were on a par with those resulting from the British attack at Mers-el- Kebir, and the impression was confirmed when French losses were known. Once again the Navy had paid the price of its loyalty, and it felt that the interests of France had been subordinated to the political aims of the United States and Great Britain! Nor were relations improved by Harwood’s statement that he had taken measures which would mean the destruction of Force X should it make a hostile move.
Once more Godfroy paced the bridge of Duquesne; he decided to defend himself— even to attack, should Vichy declare war. The canker of Mers-el-Kebir had eaten deep. When on November 11 the French Admiralty asked concerning the situation of Force X, he replied, . . the squadron remains convinced of the necessity to obey only the legitimate authority”—meaning Vichy.
It might have been thought that the German occupation of the Free Zone, followed by the scuttling of the French Fleet at Toulon on November 27, would have convinced Godfroy and his staff that the Axis had broken the Armistice. Such indeed was the first reaction, and plans were prepared for the squadron to rally to Algiers as an independent autonomous French unit, for Mers-el-Kebir made incorporation with the British impossible, and the North African landings, which brought about the total occupation of France, precluded in their minds any common operations with the Americans. Finally, convinced that should he sail for Algiers his command would fall under control of a faction—i.e., de Gaulle or Giraud, neither of whom represented a legally constituted government—Dakar was chosen. But there was no hurry, and this decision seemed justified by Pétain’s broadcast of November 28 disavowing Darlan and Giraud, Nogues and de Gaulle—a strange lumping together of mutual enemies—and demanding the loyal obedience of all French citizens abroad.
Early in December Darlan began his really serious attempts to gain control of Force X. Cleverly he insinuated that one could remain both loyal to Marshal Pétain and fight the Axis. He sent officer after officer, friends of Godfroy, to press him. But Darlan was not liked—he was trusted even less—in the Alexandria squadron, and his suggestions were not followed. Force X waited on orders from Vichy to re-enter a fight abandoned thirty months ago!
Admiral Cunningham also intervened, urging immediate departure for Algiers. It was out of the question; Dakar could be the only possible destination—there the legally constituted French State continued—and Godfroy asked Vichy to authorize him to discuss such a move with the British. The reply came brutally negative, . . in the event of difficulties, sink your ships. . . .”
President Roosevelt sent the American Naval Attaché at Cairo to urge Godfroy to sail to the United States for repairs and rearmament. His answer was, that when a definite decision as to destination was made, it would not be the United States!
All efforts to change Godfroy’s determination having failed, it was the turn of British civil authorities, who would show less understanding but more realism in their approach; who would not hesitate to cut off supplies and money. At Harwood’s request, Godfroy agreed to meet Mr. Casey, British Minister of State, in Egypt, ignoring the fact that with his acceptance he would transfer further discussions from the plane of a mutually professional understanding to a level where naval ethics gave way to political considerations. Casey’s purpose was to annul the “Admiral’s Agreement,” the bête noire of the Colonial Office, and to make all relations with the squadron an official government matter. To Godfroy’s refusal to accept the abrogation of the agreement, the British answer was a threat to halt all further aid, and on February 10, 1943, Casey said that pressure of public opinion and of Parliament was so strong that Force X must be prepared to live exclusively on its own resources.
Three days later the Minister handed Godfrey a note from Mr. Churchill, reading in part:
… It is with regret that I inform you that His Majesty’s Government can no longer continue to pay, from taxes collected in the United Kingdom, 5,000 pounds sterling each week in payment of the wages and salaries of your fleet to permit it to remain totally inactive while the peoples of so many countries are fighting for the world.. . .
The Prime Minister also threatened Godfrey with criminal proceedings before Egyptian courts should he scuttle his ships.
To a person unfamiliar with the code of honor of the Navy, the “ultimatum” may seem reasonable; why continue to support a fleet that contributed exactly zero to the Allied war effort? The error of Mr. Churchill, in spite of his self-designation as a “former naval person,” lay in his failure to understand the naval mentality. Force X belonged to the legal government of France, which alone could dispose of it. Threat was worse than futile; it merely hardened resistance.
Mr. Casey confirmed the abrogation of the agreement and ended all payments of money as of February 13. Force X, like an overripe plum, would now fall into Allied possession. The denouement was otherwise! The community of interests of brother sailors was too strong for even a Churchill. He had said “not a penny”; Harwood furnished food and supplies and charged their costs to those of his own fleet!
Under British pressure the Egyptian Government confirmed to Godfrey that he would be subject to Egyptian criminal law should he sink his ships. Everybody seems to’ have given himself and his government a great deal of very unnecessary trouble over a squadron that had only a potential fighting value and which would take no active part in the war until the defeat of the Axis was no longer doubtful.
It was early in March that Harold Macmillan, British Minister of State, first met Godfrey. Many people bear witness to Macmillan’s great ability, his comprehension. Evidently, he is not overrated, for from the day of his arrival relations between Force X and the British lost their hostile character, pressure on Godfrey ceased, and there were no more threats. In this easier atmosphere plans for the Force’s departure to a French port free from Allied occupation,—“where the American flag did not fly from the public buildings and the British flag from the semaphores”—could be considered. Algiers was thus quite out of the question; it was Dakar or nothing!
Assured by Giraud that his broadcast of March 3 repudiating all Vichy laws and decrees did not mean that he had submitted to the pressure of a political party, a faction, an individual—or, reading between the lines, the United States—and that no one would suffer because of having been loyal to the Pétain Government, Godfrey made the decision on May 17 to sail for Dakar. The narrow line separating words from acts had disappeared; history calls it crossing the Rubicon. The fleet was going home!
But the Navy does not free itself easily from its oath of loyalty, and Vichy was informed of the proposed move. The answer came: “. . . the Government can have only one attitude. I order you to sink your ships. It is a painful decision but the only one in accordance with the interests of France… .” It was signed: “Pierre Laval”!
Too late. Godfrey would not change his intention although he would attempt to explain why he would not obey the order: “… I am convinced that sinking is not justified by the necessity of preventing ships falling into foreign hands, and that it cannot be reconciled with French naval tradition nor French opinion, which would not pardon such an act in existing circumstances…” There was no reply.
On June 27 Force X sailed—its destroyers for Algiers, its cruisers, and the ancient but still robust Lorraine for Dakar, where it arrived August 18, to become the subject of political controversy. In September, the squadron which at the time of its formation was a symbol of Anglo-French unity, later becoming a source of serious dispute, even grave danger, was dissolved by order from Algiers. A short time afterwards its commander was arbitrarily retired for “reasons of discipline.”
1. The reaction of the Allies to the possibility of Italy’s entry into the war is incredibly inconceivable! In April, 1940, the author made a trip along the east coast of Africa as far north as Mombasa. At Beira, Portuguese East Africa, he was amazed to see Italian ships in port loading copper from Northern Rhodesia destined for “Italian consumption.” He asked the British consul if he did not think “Germany might get its share,” and was told that the Allies carefully controlled the ultimate destination so as to be sure it would not fall into enemy hands!
*Editor’s Note: Four battleships and various smaller units of the French Fleet were at the Mediterranean base of Oran after the Fall of France. A British force, comprising the battle cruiser Hood, two battleships, and the carrier, Ark Royal, served an ultimatum and, when the French ships appeared to be getting ready to come out of the harbor, started shelling over Mers-el-Kebir promontory. The Strasbourg escaped with some cruisers and destroyers to Toulon. The Bretagne’s magazines exploded and she capsized. The Dunkerque and Provence Were heavily hit but wrere later repaired and got to Toulon. This attack caused the severance of diplomatic relations between the Vichy government and Great Britain.)
来看看出生丘吉尔（
米尔斯凯比尔…看b站上转的某期dry dock说最有希望和平解决的办法是首先排除双方“backseat driving”（丘吉尔给萨默维尔下令、让苏尔跟法国海军部沟通混乱），然后让剑鱼带着大喇叭去港口上方用法语广播，显然就是参照历史上亚历山大港的做法
另外很有意思（但是其实也很合理）的一件事，X舰队旗舰（或者至少是司令部所在）是重巡杜肯而不是战列舰洛林
一战老登还是太没排面了
而当杜肯被英国人（估计是厌战）用15寸指着的时候（原文写14寸，还没查到当时英军编制但是不应该有14寸，厌战作为ABC旗舰倒是肯定在），戈弗雷期望炮弹过穿让他有机会在被彻底击沉前发射鱼雷
那结果是啥