The modern mind recoils at the very idea – what if Nazi Germany had invaded and occupied Great Britain? This (fortunately) counterfactual scenario has intrigued many people for decades, as when British thriller author Len Deighton made it the subject of his 1978 novel SS-GB. And Deighton, who owns a residence on the island of Guernsey, may have drawn part of his inspiration for SS-GB from knowing that Guernsey, Jersey, Salk, Alderney, and the rest of the United Kingdom’s Channel Islands suffered five years of German occupation during the Second World War. The all-too-real story of what happened when 198 square kilometres of British territory, and 60,000 British subjects, fell under Nazi rule is told in a painful and powerful manner by Madeleine Bunting in her 1995 book The Model Occupation: The Channel Islands Under German Rule, 1940-1945.
Bunting, who has written for decades for The Guardian as both reporter and columnist, brings to the writing of The Model Occupation her journalistic training in seeking out stories that have not previously been told – indeed, stories that some might not want to hear being told. Her book occasioned considerable controversy when it was published 50 years after Liberation; I carried the book with me on a visit to the Isle of Jersey, and found it to be an informative and troubling companion throughout my time there.
It may be helpful, for some readers who may not know the U.K.’s Channel Islands (or who might tend to confuse them with a comparably beautiful set of Channel Islands off the California coast), to talk a bit about what makes these British possessions so unique. Located just off the coast of northwestern France, the Channel Islands were part of the Duchy of Normandy from the 10th century on. Through all of the wars that England and France fought over the centuries, the Channel Islands remained an English or British possession, whilst never actually being incorporated into the Kingdom of England or any of its successor kingdoms, including the U.K.
To this day, the British monarch officially rules the Channel Islands as Duke of Normandy, just as William the Conqueror once did. Jersey and Guernsey are both “bailiwicks,” administered by bailiffs; each has its own pound currency. In short, these lovely little islands hold a unique and curious place within British democracy.
Before the outbreak of the Second World War, the Channel Islands were a pleasant and isolated place where British holiday-makers could seek out some seaside relaxation amidst mild weather (milder than London or Glasgow, anyway). But when war began, and France fell to the Nazis with unexpected speed, the position of the Channel Islands as British possessions rapidly became untenable. Some evacuation efforts were undertaken, and a number of islanders were taken to the British mainland; but the messaging about evacuation was muddled and inconsistent, and tens of thousands of British subjects were still on the islands when a Luftwaffe warplane landed at Jersey’s airport on 1 July 1940, and the German occupation of the Channel Islands began.
It was meant to be a “model occupation” (hence the title of Bunting’s book). The islands had not been fortified, and they had been surrendered peacefully; the British administrators retained their governmental authority, with their decisions subject to approval by the occupying German military command. Moreover, Hitler thought that a “mild” occupation of this bit of British territory might have considerable propaganda value. Accordingly, Channel Islanders did not face the kind of brutal day-to-day oppression that was the norm across the rest of Nazi-occupied Europe. And for the occupying Germans, the warm weather, the seaside ambience, the lack of military conflict, and the presence of attractive young women (some of whom entered into love affairs with the German soldiers) made this occupation duty seem almost pleasant – at first.
And yet, as Bunting makes clear, the “model occupation” was an occupation nonetheless, and an occupation under Nazi tyranny at that. The bailiffs of the islands had instructions from London to take over civil administration, coordinating whenever possible with German military authorities, whilst ensuring that their actions remained within the limits set forth by the Hague Conventions. Unfortunately, the bailiffs’ coordination began to seem, to a number of islanders, more like “cooperation,” and it included some measures at which the modern reader feels dismay or even horror.
More specifically, when islanders on Guernsey painted “V”-for-British-victory graffiti on road signs across the island, the bailiff of Guernsey offered a £25 reward for information leading to the graffitists’ capture. When two German soldiers were killed in a British raid on the islands, and the Germans demanded in retaliation that island authorities furnish a list of 200 British-born islanders who could be deported to internment camps in Germany, the bailiffs did so, and those deportations were duly carried out.
And, worst of all, in 1941 the Germans’ nazification efforts went beyond Nazi propaganda films in island cinemas, and mandatory German lessons in island schools, to include forced registration of all Jewish residents of the Channel Islands, followed by a series of increasingly severe anti-Jewish laws. Island authorities cooperated here, too, although they could have refused to do so on the basis of the Hague Conventions. As Bunting aptly puts it, “This aspect of the Channel Islands’ Nazification programme was to have tragic consequences, and is one of the most haunting stories of the Occupation” (p. 105).
Therese Steiner, Auguste Spitz, and Marianne Grunfeld were all deported from Guernsey in January of 1942. All three of these women died at Auschwitz.
Another horrifying aspect of the history of the occupation is the fate of the enslaved labourers brought from Russia, Ukraine, Poland, and other parts of Eastern Europe to construct fortifications for the defence of the islands. Hitler was determined to hold on to the islands, in spite of their lack of strategic and tactical value, and therefore millions of deutschmarks were spent on fortifications, and hundreds of workers died from overwork, starvation, and mistreatment. As part of Bunting’s herculean labours in putting this book together, she travelled all the way to Russia to interview some of those workers who were fortunate enough to survive.
Bunting’s impressions of the old German fortifications as a part of modern Channel Islands life match with my own impressions from when I was on Jersey:
The concrete bunkers are now overgrown with brambles, and the anti-tank barriers serve as seawalls. It is hard to imagine the suffering their construction entailed now, especially on a sunny summer’s day, when families picnic on their concrete bulk and the beaches are dotted with the brightly coloured towels of holidaymakers. Even the dank, dark tunnels of Guernsey, Jersey, and Alderney, used for fuel and ammunition depots and underground hospitals, have almost lost their power to disturb. Having survived the depredations of generations of inquisitive children and memorabilia hunters, several have been converted into highly successful museums, bustling with coachloads of tourists snapping up souvenirs and scones. A few scraps of graffiti, such as a star of David, or initials scraped into the setting concrete, hint at the hundreds of men who lost their lives building these vast monuments to Hitler’s grandiose ambitions. (p. 154)
Resistance efforts against the occupation were limited at best, and often seem to have been the province of teenagers expressing youthful defiance. Visit the Jersey War Tunnels museum, and you will see a quote from an islander to the effect of, “What were we supposed to do – go up into the hills, and carry on a resistance from there, like in France? There were no hills to go up into.”
The difficulties of occupation in the Channel Islands got worse after the D-Day invasion of 6 June 1944 began the liberation of Western Europe. As strategically and tactically irrelevant to the Allies as they had been to the Axis, the islands were simply bypassed by the Allied forces as they hit the beaches of Normandy and moved inland across France. The food rationing that had always been an odious feature of occupation life became worse as supplies from France were cut off, and starvation began to seem like a very real prospect for occupied islanders and occupying Germans alike.
Of the Germans still holding the islands, Winston Churchill had famously said, “Let ’em starve!” Channel Islanders might have wondered if Churchill’s words applied to them as well.
When liberation finally occurred on 9 May 1945, it was a joyous occasion across the islands. As time passed, however, questions of accountability for what had been done during the occupation mounted. Would Nazi officials who had tortured and murdered the enslaved labourers from Eastern Europe face justice, as leading Nazis did at Nuremberg? Would those who had collaborated with the German occupiers – from black marketeers to farmers who had reaped rich profits from voluntarily selling their produce to the Germans – face consequences for their actions?
A haunting chapter titled “Justice Done?” suggests that, in many cases, the answer was no. A variety of factors – ambiguity over jurisdiction; questions of whether trials should be run by, and should occur in, Great Britain or the Soviet Union; deepening distrust between the U.K. and the U.S.S.R. as the Cold War grew chillier – meant that a number of Nazi officials, against whom there existed a very strong case for war-crimes trials, escaped justice.
On the Channel Islands, meanwhile, there was embarrassment among many, including both island officials and ordinary islanders, regarding the behaviour of some islanders during the occupation. And British subjects on the British mainland didn’t want to think too hard about British territory being occupied for five years, and being permitted to remain occupied, with an SS camp operating on British soil. Great Britain’s Home Secretary visited the islands six days after liberation and spoke to the islanders. “Forgive and forget, he offered; it was an arrangement which suited both sides” (p. 303).
Visit the Jersey War Tunnels today, and you will find it to be a well-appointed and well-arranged museum. A visitor is given a replica of a real-life Jersey identity card of the kind that the Germans forced all islanders to carry, and is invited to follow the life and learn the fate of that Jersey resident. Exhibits call the visitor’s attention to the suffering of the enslaved labourers who constructed the tunnels (Bunting, who is quite critical of the historical amnesia she sees at work in many parts of the islands, praises this feature of the Jersey museum). There is a strong focus on the moral ambiguities of the occupation; for instance, if a smiling German soldier offers your child an ice cream cone, what do you do?
The docents at the museum are friendly and courteous – and are delighted to meet an American visitor with ties to the U.S. state of New Jersey that is named for their Jersey, the original Jersey. Yet if you mention that you have been reading Bunting’s book, the response is a guarded “Oh. Alright.” And The Model Occupation is noticeably absent from the museum’s well-stocked book and souvenir shop – another reminder of how painful and difficult this history is.
I do take issue with Bunting’s belief that the situation of the Channel Islands reflects what likely would have happened if the Germans had invaded and conquered the British mainland. The Channel Islands, as any resident of or visitor to the islands can tell you, are very small, and the ratio of German occupiers to island residents was sometimes as high as 1:2. The United Kingdom, in 1940, had a population of about 47 million people. Would the Germans have been able to deploy 23.5 million soldiers to occupy and garrison the entire U.K.? Does anyone really think that Scotland, or Northern Ireland, wouldn’t have been apt to give Jerry more than a bit of trouble?
Nonetheless, I appreciate Madeleine Bunting’s courage in writing The Model Occupation – a book that spares nothing in setting forth the reasons why the psychological wounds from the German occupation of the Channel Islands remain at least partially unhealed.