Jan Christiaan Smuts becomes Premier of South Africa, and promises to support the British Empire in the war, despite the opposition of fellow Afrikaners.
The United States announces its strict neutrality in the war.
In Poland, Nazi brutality continues. Brennkommandos (arson squads) destroy the main synagogue and its associated school, immediately upon occupying Ozorkow. Dozens of Jews caught on the street are shot to death.
The war in Poland continues unabated. Two wars rage on simultaneously, one of German and Polish troops slugging it out in the swiftly-moving front lines, the other a savage war of annihilation behind the lines, waged by German SS troops against defenseless civilians. Entering Piotrkow on September 5, the Germans set fire to dozens of Jewish homes, then shoot dead those Jews who manage to run from the burning buildings. Entering a building which has escaped the flames, soldiers take out six Jews and order them to run; five are shot down, the sixth, Reb Bunem Lebel, dies later of his wounds.
Hitler, on the move with his tactical HQ, pays a surprise visit to Guderian’s 19th Panzer Corps, near Plevno on the Tuchel-Schwetz road. Hitler is stunned to see a wrecked Polish artillery regiment, and asks, “Our dive-bombers did that?” Guderian replies “No, our panzers!” Guderian records, “He was plainly astonished.” He is even more pleased that the panzer corps has only lost 150 dead and 700 wounded. During the Great War, Hitler’s regiments lost thousands in a single day, while gaining no ground at all.
The main fighting that day is on the prepared Polish defense line on the rivers Warta and Widawka. The Lodz Army of four infantry divisions and a cavalry brigade faces seven German divisions, strengthened by the SS Leibstandarte Adolf Hitler Regiment, whose blond troops are handpicked and fanatically loyal to Hitler. The Poles are proud, brave, and determined, but cannot hold. Lodz Army reports to Warsaw, “The 10th Division has fallen to pieces…we are leaving the Warta-Widawka line which could not be held…the situation is grave.” The Polish commander-in-chief faces grim facts, and orders a general withdrawal of all armies to the Vistula line.
The Germans, of course, figure the Poles will do just that, and give orders for a general encirclement of the Polish Army east of the Vistula. Army Group North is ordered to attack with its 3rd Army and Guderian’s panzer corps on the Warsaw-Siedlce line, while Army Group South attacks with its 14th Army across the San and in the direction of Lublin, with 22nd Panzer Corps covering the extreme flank. Heavy fighting continues as the Germans advance.
The air war continues over Poland with determination on both sides. The Polish Bomber Brigade slams the 1st and 4th Panzer Divisions, forcing the tankers to call for help. But it is the high point of the campaign for the Polish air force – they are taking irreplaceable losses, and losing airfields, men, and supplies to the advancing Nazi forces.
Miroslaw Feric, back with his squadron, diaries, “The lovely Polish autumn (is) coming. Damn and blast its loveliness.” From the air, he and his comrades survey a devastated landscape, and they are almost powerless to stop its further devastation. The Warsaw Pursuit Brigade has destroyed no less than 34 German aircraft and damaged 29, with the Kosciuszko Squadron accounting for eight kills on its own. But the Brigade has lost 36 of its own planes, two-thirds of its strength, which cannot be easily replaced. And several are abandoned due to a lack of spare parts.
By evening, the Germans are moving ahead quickly. Gen. Franz Halder notes in his dairy, “Enemy as good as beaten.” But as the Germans advance, the Polish civilians, furious at being invaded, begin a six-year resistance movement. Poland may have many anti-Semites, but no Quislings.
Near daybreak, U-47’s first watch officer, Engelbert Endrass, age 28, spots a darkened ship zigzagging ahead of him. Gunther Prien sounds the alarm and sends his crew to action stations (general quarters in US parlance). He closes the range and fires a shot from his 88mm gun. The ship puts on steam and starts radioing the U-Boat alarm, SSS, its position, and name, Bosnia. Prien puts four more rounds from his deck gun into the ship, and three hit. The crew abandons ship in panic, capsizing a lifeboat, survivors floundering in the water.
Prien cruises among the survivors, hauling them out of the water and rights the capsized lifeboat. A Norwegian ship toddles up to see the fuss, and it collects the survivors. After the Norwegian is gone, Prien fires a torpedo into Bosnia, and Germany has collected her second kill of the war, and the first freighter, and therefore, first legitimate target.
The same day, Herbert Schultze, age 30, another former merchant marine officer, is patrolling Area H in U-48, a sister to U-47. Schultze runs across a big freighter headed for the British Isles, but a shot from the U-boat’s deck gun fails to stop her. The ship steams off, her radio blasting out the code for submarine attack, “SSS.” Schultze orders his deck gun to fire on the ship’s bridge. The ship stops and all the crew – except the radio operator – take to the lifeboats. After the crew is pulled off, Schultze closes on the ship, and takes off the determined radioman. Then he fires a single torpedo into the ship, and sinks the 4,853-ton Royal Sceptre and its cargo of grain.
Approaching the lifeboats, Schultze asks if there are any wounded. None. He hands the radio operator over to a lifeboat, salutes his courage, and tells the survivors to stand by – there’s smoke on the horizon. It’s another British freighter, the 5,332-ton SS Browning, and Schultze orders her to stop – with a shot across the bow – to pick up Royal Sceptre’s crew.
The leery British ignore Schultze. Angrily waving his arms, Schultze finally gets his point over. SS Browning picks up the crew, and sails off to Brazil.
Other U-boats are busy, too. Heinrich Liebe’s U-38 patrols off of Lisbon, looking for prey. Liebe is the son of an Army officer and joined the Reichsmarine at age 18. U-38 spots a freighter, and Liebe inspects her papers. It’s the French Pluvoise. Hitler has not yet allowed attacks on French shipping. Liebe lets her go, but her captain broadcasts a submarine alarm, which is heard in Berlin. Liebe is rebuked, and the rules are tightened: “Merchantmen identified as being French are not to be stopped. Incidents with France are to be avoided at all costs.”
New Zealand Prime Minister Savage broadcasts to his nation, telling New Zealanders that “With gratitude to the past, and with confidence in the future, we range ourselves without fear besides Britain. Where she goes we go. Where she stands, we stand.” New Zealanders listen to the broadcast, and many, like Jack Hinton, in Greymouth, decide to enlist.
Savage announces in his speech that enlistment offices will open at 9 a.m. on Tuesday, September 12.
In Australia Prime Minister Menzies cables London to tell the British that the Australians can’t send an expeditionary force overseas until the Japanese position is made clear. Australia might reinforce Singapore or the Middle East, but is hesitant about going further, or releasing Australian ships from home waters.
In Italy, Ciano writes that “neutrality is beginning to bear fruit. Stock market quotations soar, the first orders to buy Italian goods come from France, ships resume their sailings at double the normal rates and are jam-packed. The Duce is somewhat pleased by all this, but not enough as yet. He must be told that we need a long period of prosperous neutrality in order to go to war later, as he desires, but not for another year. General Carboni paints a very dark picture of the conditions of our military preparedness, our meager resources, disorganized command, demoralization among the masses. Perhaps he exaggerates, but there is some truth in it.”
On the Western front, there is no fighting. German radio broadcasts to the French, “We won’t shoot if you don’t.” The Germans tell Bill Shirer he can do radio recordings from the front, but American networks won’t permit the broadcast of recordings. “A pity,” writes Shirer, “because it is the only way radio can really cover the war from the front. I think we’re throwing away a tremendous opportunity, though God knows I have no burning desire to die a hero’s death at the front.”
