phoning the Polish ambassador Lipski to spur Warsaw into ac-
tion. Later still they heard the Foreign Office warning that it
would be near impossible to get a Pole to Berlin in time. Göring
asked Dahlerus to carry the “generous” new German terms in
person to Chamberlain, and underlined the salient points in
red. “With ,, troops not to mention the Soviet divi-
sions confronting Poland,” he warned, “anything may hap-
pen.”
Leaving Carinhall that morning, August , , Göring
still hoped that he had eliminated the British. He told Emmy, “I
think we’ve pulled it off.” Under his admiring gaze Hitler dic-
tated a final “offer to Poland,” which would, they agreed, surely
sunder the enemy alliance. Couched in sixteen points, the new
offer was a document of suffocating reasonableness; it banked on
Poland’s stubbornness and pride.
At midday Dahlerus phoned from Downing Street in
London.
“The Führer is drafting his proposals now,” Göring as-
sured him.
At one-fifteen Dahlerus phoned again. Lord Halifax, the
foreign secretary, wanted Göring to realize that Hitler’s propos-
als must not be a Diktat. Göring chuckled broadly. “They are a
basis for discussion. They are fabulous. It is, however, essential
that a Pole come here and get them.”
Later the Swede phoned on Chamberlain’s behalf to in-
quire why a Pole must come to Berlin. Göring explained flatly
that the Reich Chancellor, Herr Hitler, had his residence there.
Halifax found this attitude less reassuring, and later that after-
noon the FA overheard his London officials warning Henderson
by phone about the Nazis’ diplomatic tactics. “They really can’t
expect to pull it off again,” said the disembodied voice from
London, “by summoning people, handing over documents, and