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Today, September 15, is "Battle of Britain Day" in the United
Kingdom, the day on which they recall what Churchill called "their
finest hour". Sixty-nine years ago, the blue skies over London were
marked by thin white contrails marking the path of hundreds of fighter and
bomber aircraft, contesting for air superiority over the British capital.
September 15 did not mark the largest air battle in the extended campaign
called "The Battle of Britain"; neither was it the bloodiest
(historian Alfred Price aptly described August 18th "The Hardest
Day" in his eponymous book, on which the Germans lost 69 aircraft and
the British a staggering 68), nor was it the last (German daylight raids
continued well into November, including a belated appearance by the
hopelessly outclassed Italian air force). But September 15 did mark the
irrevocable "tipping point", the day on which the German high
command admitted to itself that air superiority could not be achieved in
1940, and therefore the planned German invasion of Britain, Operation
Sealion, would not happen that year. In fact, it would not happen at all, because
shortly afterwards Adolph Hitler turned his mind towards his nemesis, the
Soviet Union. And so, in a very real way, today does mark this first British
victory, which, if it did not ensure victory, did ensure that defeat was not
imminent.
Today a rapidly dwindling handful of men octogenarians, Churchill's
"Few" become ever fewer, and as they pass, we are losing touch with
that desperate but somehow romantic summer of 1940. Look at their pictures
from back then, and they seem so incredibly young, incredibly eager, the
finest flower of Britain--until you seen the fatigue and tension in their
eyes. More than half of the pilots who flew for Fighter Command in the Battle
of Britain didn't survive the war; many who did were permanently scarred by
horrible burns and other injuries. There is a tendency to think of the Few as
being exclusively British (perhaps bolstered by some Canadians and a handful
of "prematurely anti-fascist" Americans. In reality, RAF Fighter
Command was a rather cosmopolitan bunch with representatives from all corners
of the British Empire--Australia, South Africa, Rhodesia, India,
Palestine--but also consisting of refugees from the air forces of
Nazi-conquered Europe, particularly the Poles and Czechs.
Though few in number, these men without a country contributed mightily to
the defeat of Hitler's Luftwaffe. Many had fled from their native lands and
offered their services to France, only to find that country falling to
Hitler's panzer divisions before they even got a chance to fight. Fleeing
again to Britain, they signed on with the RAF, which at first was reluctant
to employ them, fearing that language and doctrinal differences would lead to
chaos in the air. As the Battle advanced, though, British pilot losses began
to exceed the ability of Training Command to supply replacements. Novice
pilots with barely nine hours in the cockpit of a Spitfire or Hurricane were
easy meat for German fighter pilots who had cut a swath across Europe for
almost a year.
Finally, Air Marshal Sir Hugh Dowding, the Commander-in-Chief of Fighter
Command, agreed to make the exiles into an operational squadron (under
British commanders, of course). Soon, these highly experienced fighters, many
of whom had become aces over Poland in September 1939, were making their mark
in the air. In fact, the first Polish squadron, Number 303 (later known as
the Kosciuszko Squadron, after the great 18th century Polish patriot who also
fought in the American Revolution) quickly became the highest-scoring RAF
squadron in the battle, accounting for 126 kills--more than twice the number
of the next highest scoring squadron, and 7 percent of all German losses in
the Battle. Nine of the squadron's thirty-four pilots became aces during the
Battle, and one, Josef Fratisek, a Czech who proudly called himself a Pole,
became the second ranking ace of the entire Battle with 17 confirmed kills
(he also claimed to have downed eleven German fighters while flying for
France, but these were not confirmed). Sadly, his plane disappeared without a
trace over the English Channel in October 1940.
Soon, a second Polish squadron, No. 302 (Poznan) was stood up, and on
September 15, these two squadrons and their 70-odd pilots provided 20 percent
of the total RAF force that intercepted the Luftwaffe attacks that day,
downing some sixteen aircraft, or 26 percent of the sixty German aircraft
lost that day. In return, the Poles lost two planes shot down (one pilot
killed) and six damaged (one pilot wounded). It was a remarkable performance.
The Poles' success continued to the end of the Battle of Britain and
throughout the remainder of the war. In the air, they were noted for their
fierce concentration and almost pathological hatred of the enemy who had
overrun and destroyed their country. While other British pilots tended to
open fire from as much as 250 yards, the Poles closed to point-blank range,
practically colliding with the enemy to ensure getting a kill. Over the
course of the war, many of them paid with their lives for their all-out
approach to air combat.
After the war, it is very sad to relate, these heroes who contributed so
much to victory in the Battle of Britain were rapidly discarded by the
country for whom they had fought so well. They went overnight from being the
darlings of English society to being unwanted interlopers who ought to go
home--something the Soviet occupation of Poland made impossible. Only a
handful were allowed to remain in the RAF. Most had to take menial jobs, or
had to emigrate to Canada, Australia or South Africa. A number did in fact
return to Poland, where all were harassed by the Communists, many imprisoned,
and a substantial number executed for "espionage". Not until the
fall of communism in 1989 were they able to take their rightful place in
Polish society, their exploits (long suppressed by the Communist government)
finally discussed in the open. By 1991, the aging remnant of the Kosciuszko
and Poznan veterans who had stayed in Britain were finally able to visit
their native land, bringing with them the banner of the Polish Air Force with
which they had paraded in 1940, a banner marked with the Virgin Mary and
bearing the motto, "Love Requires Sacrifice".
The most remarkable thing about these men--and their brothers in RAF
Bomber Command, and those who fought with the Free Polish Army under General
Anders in Italy--was their fidelity to the cause for which they were
fighting, which did not waver, even after it became apparent that the Allies
had sold out the Polish cause, putting that sad country under the control of
the Soviet Union. Knowing they could not go home again, they continued to
fight, as he ancient Polish battle cry puts it "for your freedom and
ours".
In 1997, Poland became a full member of the North Atlantic Treaty
Organization, and shortly thereafter, President Clinton traveled to Warsaw to
commemorate this notable event, the fulfillment of many Polish aspirations.
Standing in the Castle Square of the Old City (Stare Miastro) of
Warsaw, he announced, "Together, we will work to secure the future of an
undivided Europe--for your freedom and ours".
The U.S. commitment to the freedom of an independent Poland was
reciprocated by that country in the aftermath of the attacks of September 11.
No country, with the exception of Great Britain, has been a more steadfast
partner in our war against terrorism and Islamic extremism. Poles fought
alongside Americans in Iraq, and continue to fight alongside us in
Afghanistan, where they have won praise from our troops and commanders for
their zeal and professionalism. Indeed, with the exception of Britain, the
Poles are the only NATO force in Afghanistan whose government has not placed
restrictive "caveats" upon them regarding the types of operations
in which they can participate. Where we go, they go--it is that simple. Elsewhere,
Polish government officials have worked with the United States, sometimes in
the face of domestic political opposition, to provide bases and other
facilities for U.S. forces in Poland (much more conveniently located for
reaching potential hot spots than our old bases in Germany). And, of course,
they risked quite a bit in supporting President Bush's efforts to build a
ballistic missile defense system against Iran using interceptor missiles in
Poland. In return, the Poles want nothing more than to be considered as a
true ally and partner of the United States, on whom they depend for
protection against the threat of a resurgent Russia.
Under the Obama administration, the mutual love affair between Poland and
America seems to have cooled considerably. Not only is the administration
reconsidering the construction of the missile defense system on which the
Polish government expended so much political capital, but it seems intent on
deliberately snubbing one of our most reliable allies. For instance,
September 1 marked the 70th anniversary of the outbreak of World War II, a
war which began with the invasion of Poland. Some 20 percent of all Poles
would die in that war, proportionally more than the losses of the Soviet
Union, Germany and (of course) the United States. For Poles, the anniversary
was a very solemn occasion, to be marked with a state ceremony. Three months
earlier, invitations had been sent out to all the NATO and EU heads of state,
as well as to the White House. Almost all were in attendance on that day--British
Prime Minister Gordon Brown, German Chancellor Angela Merkel, French
President Nicholas Sarkozy. Representing the United States? Not the
president. Not the vice president. Not even the Secretary of State. Just
National Security Advisor General James Jones. Draw your own conclusions.
At a more substantive level, the Obama administration seems determined to
sever the close ties that have emerged between the United States and all the
former Soviet satellite states of Eastern Europe--Poland, Romania, Bulgaria,
Hungary, Slovakia, Ukraine and the Baltic States--in order to
"reset" its relations with Russia, a country that consistently
works against U.S. interests around the world, supports governments
antithetical to the United States (Cuba, Bolivia, Venezuela, Iran and Syria),
violates human rights on a massive scale, uses its control of European oil
and natural gas supplies as an economic weapon, invades and partially annexes
the territory of a neighboring state, and which seems intent upon subjugating
all of its neighbors in a simulacrum of (if not the Soviet Union) the old
Tsarist empire.
At the same time, we seem incapable of absorbing the fact that Russia is a
power in decline, whose military forces are a hollow shell, whose economy
teeters on the knife-edge of dissolution, and whose population is in the
midst of a demographic death spiral. Obama and his foreign policy advisers
seem trapped in a time warp when it is always 1980, and the Soviet Union
stands at the pinnacle of its power. Thus, the administration offers
deference, if not obeisance to a declining authoritarian adversary, while
slighting vital emerging democracies who not only like the United States, but
are willing to help it do the heavy lifting on the geopolitical stage.
Will the United States do to Poland in this decade what the Allies did to
it in the 1940s? One wonders. Even before President Obama took office, there
were signs that officials in Washington--particularly in the State
Department--were suffering from what one U.S. diplomat in Warsaw described to
me as "Poland Fatigue". The Poles, it was felt, were getting too
big for their britches, and should just shut up and be good Janissaries. And
the Poles, for their part, felt taken for granted. Poles generally, and the
Polish government in particular, have an "Atlanticist" orientation.
They want to be in a close strategic and economic relationship with the
United States. Many distrust the European Union, and especially its ability
to guarantee Polish security. As a result, they will take quite a bit of
perceived abuse. But we may be reaching the limits of their toleration on
this point. If the United States does not take positive steps to mend its
fences with Warsaw, it may soon find a much colder shoulder when it goes
looking for support in the UN, the EU, or on the battlefield.
Polish pilots killed in World War II are buried in 139 cemeteries across
the United Kingdom. The largest number--some 346--are buried in
Newark-upon-Trent, under a large stone cross bearing the Polish words Za
Wolnosc: For Freedom. They died for that. We owe it to them to live for
it, too
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