Flames over France Read Online Free Page A

the border last January and the Belgians got hold of the papers. The Belgian High Command wanted the French Army to move up right away, but the move was forbidden by their king. Am I correct?”
    Max nodded. “Quite correct. The French will move up now, of course, and so will the British Expeditionary Force, but it will very probably be too late. Plan D, I fear, is doomed before it can be implemented.”
    Plan D, known also as the Dyle Plan, had its origin in an earlier scheme called the Escaut Plan. Proposed in September 1939 by General Georges, commanding the French North-Eastern Army Zone, it envisaged an advance into Belgium by two armies, one French and one British, to face a German threat and form a defensive line along the Escaut river from the French frontier at Conde as far as Ghent. The plan depended on securing the Belgian Government’s approval, and much of it hinged on the ability of the Belgian Army to extend the line and hold it from Ghent to Antwerp. In November 1939, however, Allied intelligence indicated that a German attack would also involve Holland, and since the Escaut Plan did not cover Dutch territory, it was abandoned in favour of a new scheme, Plan D. This envisaged an Allied main line of resistance anchored on the Dyle, which lay further to the east in Belgium and from which a rapid advance could be made into Holland.
    In its finalised form, Plan D made provision for the Allied armies to occupy a continuous defensive line from the Dutch border to Mezières, in northern France. In the extreme north, the defence of Holland would rest with eight Dutch divisions; immediately to the south came the French Seventh Army, holding a line between Turnhout and Breda; then the Belgian Army, from Louvain to Antwerp; on the Belgians’ right flank the ten divisions of the British Expeditionary Force, lying between Wavre and Louvain and effecting a junction with the French First Army, in position between the BEF and Namur; and finally, between Namur and Mezières on the southern flank of the line, came the French Ninth Army.
    “That’s the plan,” Max explained. “It’s a good one, and there is nothing wrong with the fighting troops, although we all know that they lack adequate air support. The main area of concern is not here, in the north, but here, on the Meuse.”
    His finger moved over the map and traced a rough circle around Sedan.
    “The trouble,” he continued, “is that the French don’t believe the Germans can force a passage through the Ardennes. This sector, therefore, is quite thinly defended by the French Second Army, which has sixteen poorly-equipped and poorly-trained divisions, half of them second class. Their job is to hold a ninety-five-mile stretch of front, and to make matters worse the Maginot fortifications are only half completed here. But ask yourself this: if the Germans don’t intend to launch a major attack here, why are they making every effort to shoot down our reconnaissance aircraft?”
    “I’d heard that they have been suffering pretty severe losses,” Armstrong. “I didn’t know that it was particularly bad in that area, though.”
    “It is,” Max remarked grimly. “For some reason the French have been sending their aircraft into enemy territory unescorted, and their reconnaissance squadrons have suffered dreadful losses. That is why they have asked for our help. Our Spitfires are the only reconnaissance aircraft fast enough to make a thorough survey of the area with any hope of survival. Let’s go back into my office.”
    Back in his seat, Max unlocked a desk drawer and withdrew a red folder, which he handed to Armstrong. “Your operational orders,” he said. “We have had them for some time; in fact, they were put in place not long after the German invasion plans fell into our hands, and the Joint Air HQ realised that our help would probably be needed. As you will see, they are straightforward enough.”
    Armstrong flicked through the flimsy pages inside