The Blitzkreig of Lord Beaverbrook

The Prime Minister Should Take a Leaf out of Beaverbrook’s Book Back in the Summer of 1940

Back in November 1939, Winston Churchill, then at the Admiralty, suggested to Neville Chamberlain, the British Prime Minister, that he bring Max Aitken, Lord Beaverbrook, into the government.  ‘When I talk to him,’ Churchill wrote, ‘I have a feeling of knowledge, force, experience, which I do not find - at my age - with most I meet.  We need this kind of thing.’  Chamberlain did not heed this advice, but after he was ousted on 10 May 1940, just as the Germans invaded France and the Low Countries, and Churchill took over, and decided that he very much did need this kind of thing.  The new Prime Minister lunched and dined with Beaverbrook on 10 May, lunched alone together the following day; and on 12 May, Beaverbrook spent the afternoon with Churchill and stayed for dinner.  That day, Beaverbrook agreed to become the first ever Minister for Aircraft Production.

A Canandian, he had made his first million before he was thirty, then come to Britain, played a key role in th development of Rolls-Royce, briefly became a minister during the First World War, then, in the 1920s, created a media empire that included the Evening Standard and Daily Express.  He was sharp as a tack, a hugely successful businessman, had extensive contacts both sides of the Atlantic and was, quite simply, one of the most powerful men in the country.

As an island nation, Britain had a large navy - the world’s largest in 1940 - and a burgeoning air force.  Britain was also the only country in the world with a co-ordinated early warning and air defence system.  As it quickly became clear that France was being rolled over by the Germans, it became increasingly apparent that Britain would be next and that its air defences would be crucial in the battle to come.  Yet production of modern fighter planes, designed to defend Britain’s air space, had begun later than that of Germany and while there was no longer much of a qualitative difference, there was a quantitative one.  The air defence system was a massive tick for Britain’s chances, and, with a nod to future bombing of the country by the Luftwaffe, shadow factories had also already been set up before May 1940.  These were production plants established around the country so that production was not dependent on one major plant.

Lord Beaverbrook, left, with Churchill

The challenge for Beaverbrook, however, in May 1940, was how to dramatically speed up aircraft production in very quick order.  The Ministry for Aircraft Production formally came into being on 17 May 1940, two days after the French Prime Minister, Paul Reynaud, had already admitted France had ‘lost the battle.’  Yet as Churchill had hoped, Beaverbrook had, within a few days, established a ministry like no other.  For one thing, he didn’t like committees.  In his office, he had two notices.  One said, ‘Committees take the punch out of war,’ while the second read, ‘Organization is the enemy of improvisaiton.’  The buck stopped with him; he liked to be informed and then he made his decision.  Scientists, businessmen, industrialists - men he respected ad trusted - were all brought in.  There was little hierarchy, and Beaverbrook used his closeness to Churchill and his force of personality to cut through tedious red tape.  Nor did he much like memos and letters for conducting business; the telephone was quicker.  Nothing was to get in the way of speeding up aircraft production.

Even after just a fortnight in the job, Beaverbrook’s new ministry had made startling improvements.  In the first week he took over, aroun 130 new aircraft of all types had been built. By the third week of May, that had risen to 200 and by the last week of May, 280.  In June 446 fighter aircraft had been built while in July that figure was 496.  The same month, the German aircraft industry produced 240 fighters, less than half.  It was the most favourable ratio for the Luftwaffe of any remaining month that year.  Beaverbrook also halted development of other aircraft and insisted that for the time being, only five aircraft types would be built: three bombers and two fighters, the Spitfire and Hurricane.  Simplifying the production process was key to increasing numbers.  New models could come later, once the immediate crisis had passed.

Red tape was dispensed with and so too were niceties. If there was a bottleneck anywhere, a senior member of the MAP would be sent to the relevant factory and whatever the problem - such as mismanagement, lack of workers, shortage of parts - it would be assessed and resolved with extreme haste and the bottleneck cleared.  Those considered to be dead wood were sacked, new teams brought in, an no slackness tolerated.  Workers were expected to toil seven days a week with a disregard for all labour regulations.  That was how Beaverbrook worked himself and he expected everyone else to do the same.  It was a wonder what could be achieved when everyone involved was focussed entirely on the main task in hand.

He also completely overhauled the Civilian Repair Organization, which dealt with damaged aircraft, once again streamlining the process, ironing out bottlenecks and dispensing with many of the rules and regulations that consumed so much time.  By the beginning of July 1940, the production of new aircraft had risen by 62%, new engines by 33%, repaired aircraft by a staggering 186% and repaired engines by 159%.  It was an astonishing turn around.  At no point during the Battle of Britain, did frontline squadrons want for aircraft.  I remember asking many former pilots whether they had ever been short of Spitfires or Hurricanes during that summer.  To a man, they all admitted they had not.  ‘Where they came from, no-one knew,’ Tom Neil told me, a Hurricane pilot in 249 Squadron, ‘but every morning, there they were as though they had been delivered by angels.’  By the end of October, by which time the RAF had emphatically won the air battle, RAF Fighter Command had more fighter planes in its inventory than when the battle had begun back in early July.  The Luftwaffe, meanwhile, had less than 200, a drop of more than 550.  Britain would fight on, while Hitler would be forced to turn far earlier than he’d planned to the Soviet Union - which was invaded with catastrophic consequences for Nazi Germany, in June 1941.  Churchill had claimed that Hitler must defeat Britain or lose the war.  How right he’d been.

Tom Neil beside his Hurricane

I’ve been thinking much about this and Beaverbrook’s refusal to tolerate any kind of faffing in his drive for greater production, because while it’s terrific that the Prime Minister has woken up and smelled the coffee about the urgent need for rearmament, the UK is especially constrained by rules, regs and gargantuan amounts of red-tape that stifle initiative and, most of all, speed of action.  Many of us will recall that Brexit promised to do away with red tape and cumbersome bureaucrats in Brussels but this country has become more mired in paperwork, box-ticking and alarming levels of risk aversion than was ever apparent during the far-off days of EU membership.

Just before Christmas, I had lunch with a Tory peer and former minister who told me that he’d been truly shocked by the level of inaction and wasteage during his time in government.  He reckoned he could save the government £200 billion in a week given half the chance.  When he elaborated, this didn’t seem half so fanciful as it had first sounded; rather, it seemed entirely possible, even though entirely improbable.  Just last week I heard the story of a fellow whose job is selling cable of various kinds, lengths and sizes.  He does this from home, buying it all on eBay and then selling it on at a profit. So, he would sell onto the private sector with a 25% mark-up but at 50% to the public sector, such as the NHS.  It’s stories like this that make one realise how much room for manoeuvre there really might be.

Nor does rapid rearming have to mean economic catastrophe.  In 1939, the US Army was the nineteenth largest in the world; in June 1940, President Roosevelt announced to Congress that $50 million was needed there and then and that his ambition was for the US to build 50,000 aircraft a year.  This was a previously unheard of sum and an equally unheard of number of aircraft.  Yet, the United States, still reeling from the worst financial depression in its history, was producing 83,000 aircraft in 1943, as well as raising armies and navies so that some 16 million were in uniform by 1945.  And they were getting rich in the process.  Currently, Poland is one of the fastest growing economies in Europe with a defence spend fast approaching 5% of GDP.  Even Britain in 1950, its global reach shattered and broke from the war, was able to spend 10% of GDP on defence; Atlee’s Labour government even proposed raising that to 14%.  Into the 1950s, a quarter of a million worked in the British aircraft industry.

Curiously, the current government seems to have no vision whatsoever for adopting the Keynesian model of increased defence spending to boost economic growth.  Rather, it worries we cannot afford to increase defence spending.  I’m not sure about that either.  While there are clearly levels of appalling poverty in this country, there remains a great deal of wealth.  Wander around central London and the bars, pubs and restaurants appear busy enough.  Nearly 2 million new cars were brought into the UK market in 2024 at a rise of 2.6% on the previous year, at an average cost of around £28,000.  That’s £53.2 billion, which, curiously is the same as the current UK defence budget.  In 2024, the total value of British holiday retail sales, meanwhile, was £97 billion.  If we can collectively afford to spend £150 billion of our own money on cars and holidays we can also afford to spend more on defence; it’s just a matter of choice.  Hang on to the current car a bit longer; skip Ibitha this year, and Rachel Reeves’ £20 billion black hole looks like pretty small beer.

But it really doesn’t need to be an economic black hole.  The government needs to show leadership and vision. It needs to cut red tape, abandon chronic risk aversion and fear of litigation, and use this existential threat we now face to level up in traditional areas of manufacturing.  The skills are still there.  We are home to many brilliant minds.  The workers are still here too.  The government could use this rearmament drive to provide jobs, purpose, drive and energy. And a body of working people with new skills and know-how.  Just as they are doing in Poland.  Just as they did in the USA in 1940-1945.  A far stronger UK armed forces will create a greater long-term chance of keeping peace, something that was understood right up until the false dawn brought about by the collapse of the Soviet Union back in December 1991.    

Again, it’s about choice.  What do we value more?  Endless risk assessments, four-day weeks, bloated bureaucracy and pointless paperwork that no-one ever looks at ever again, or the kind of energy and streamlined industry that can elevate our country in multiple different ways?  Fanciful?  From where I’m writing this at the moment, yes.  But this approach - this mindset - worked in the summer of 1940 with war-changing results.  It’s time - urgently - to take a leaf out of Lord Beaverbrook’s book.