
Churchill’s 83rd birthday at Chartwell (L–R) grandson Winston Churchill, WSC, son Randolph, Montgomery, Clementine, 30 November 1957
Henry Weeds is Collections and House Officer at Chartwell.
The Terrace Lawn at Chartwell grants exceptional views of the Kent countryside and the South Downs. The serene lakes glitter in the late evening sunset. It was here that Winston Churchill frequently gazed after the close of the Second World War. Often at his side during these years was his wartime colleague, Field Marshal Sir Bernard Montgomery, or Viscount Montgomery of Alamein, as he became. With respect to his acquaintance with the former prime minister, “Monty” stated that it was after the war at Chartwell that “our true friendship began.”1
Churchill, outwardly gregarious and affectionate could not, at least at first glance, appear more different from Montgomery. And yet it was Montgomery who never abandoned Churchill and who “unfailingly cheered [him] up.”2 As evidence, Montgomery recorded forty-eight visits in the Chartwell guest book, far higher than most. Notably, Montgomery could not resist a bit of cheeky self-aggrandisement, signing himself off as “Montgomery of Alamein.” The Battle of El Alamein defined Montgomery’s character and, arguably, signalled the war’s turning point, certainly in the North African theatre.
But what was it that brought these two characters together? Churchill first saw Montgomery in action in 1940, when the general commanded the Army’s Third Division in Brighton. Both men shared similar convictions on repelling an invasion by sea, and both favoured defence through in-depth tactics supported by counter-attacks from armoured divisions. Churchill was so impressed with Montgomery’s approach that he awarded him full marks, except on the matter of Montgomery’s rigid morning routine.
At fifty-three, Montgomery had already seen significant military action during the First World War, receiving a sniper bullet through his right lung at Ypres. Working his way up the ranks, he was then involved at Arras and Passchendaele before finishing the war as Chief of Staff of the 47th Division. The interwar years saw him at various postings from Cairo to India, but perhaps his most significant moment came when he married Elizabeth Carver in 1927. Despite Montgomery’s somewhat abrasive outer shell, he loved his wife dearly. Her untimely death due to an infected insect bite left a void in his life that he struggled to fill.
Montgomery continued to hone his craft. During the Second World War, Churchill, recognising the need to shake things up in North Africa, was persuaded by General Alan Brooke to appoint Montgomery commander of the 8th Army in Egypt. Writing to Clementine, Churchill said of Montgomery, “we have a highly competent daring and energetic soldier, well-acquainted with desert warfare.” Slightly tongue in cheek but capturing Montgomery to a tee, Churchill added: “If he is disagreeable to those about him, he is also disagreeable to the enemy. I am confident that the new arrangement will work well.”3
Churchill’s faith was rewarded. Within three months Montgomery had rejuvenated a demoralised 8th Army and bested Rommel at El Alamein. Churchill admired Montgomery’s (or “my Monty’s”) dynamism, foresight, and absolute unbending will to see his objectives through to the end, though without needlessly throwing away lives. John Colville notes that, in comparison to his colleague Harold Alexander, Montgomery was “a complete contrast in manner, method and personality.”4 And Montgomery appreciated the Prime Minister’s presence, with Churchill being one of only two people permitted to smoke in the general’s presence (Emmanuel Shinwell being the other).
For all his genius and success, Montgomery did suffer from a tendency towards egotism and self-advertising that made him unbearable for some to be around. At its worst, this habit could have seriously harmed Anglo-American relations and cost lives. During the Battle of the Bulge, Montgomery found himself better placed to fend off a serious counterattack than Generals Eisenhower and Bradley. In his own characteristic style, Montgomery held a press conference in terms that were so “jingoistic and self-satisfied” that Churchill himself stepped in to placate the understandably furious American generals. The Prime Minister congratulated General Bradley via telegram on a victory that “in other circumstances, [might] have been hard to identify.”5
Though notoriously Americanophobic, Montgomery’s style also made others within the British General Staff bristle. Admiral “ABC” Cunningham fumed at Montgomery’s dismissal of the Navy during the Italian liberation campaign. The disaster at Market Garden has been somewhat unfairly pinned on Montgomery, but his encounters with Eisenhower prior to the operation may have affected the final outcome.
With all that said, Montgomery was widely recognised as a military genius, and his ability to achieve victory ranks him as one of Britain’s greatest field commanders. Russian Marshal Zhukov, though only meeting Montgomery for the first time when the war was largely over, noted in his memoirs:
At the ceremony of signing the decoration I met Field-Marshal Montgomery for the first time. During the war I had closely followed the actions of British troops under his command…. British troops under Montgomery’s command had smashed the German corps under General Rommel at El Alamein. During the Normandy landing Montgomery had ably commanded the Allied forces and their advance to the banks of the Seine. Montgomery was above medium height, very agile, soldierly, trim and created an impression of a lively and intelligent man.6
And despite their mutual dislike, even Eisenhower conceded:
General Montgomery is a very able, dynamic type of army commander…. I have great confidence in him as a combat commander. He is intelligent, a good talker, and has a flair for showmanship…he has been most loyal—personally and officially—and has shown no disposition whatsoever to overstep the bounds imposed by allied unity of command.7
It was Churchill’s ability to recognise the impact of mould breaking commanders such as Montgomery that gave the Allies the upper hand. Churchill placed a great deal of faith in men like Montgomery, and they delivered. Speaking once of General Hobart, Churchill said, “you cannot expect to have the genius type with a conventional copy-book style.”8 This statement could quite easily have applied to Montgomery as well.
When the war ended Montgomery became Chief of the Imperial General Staff. Working to modernise and reform the depleted and ageing British Army, he remained staunchly apolitical and won the praise of Labour Prime Minister Clement Attlee. Montgomery moved on to become Chairman of the Western Union’s Commanders in-Chief committee. When this organisation was absorbed into NATO in 1951, Montgomery became the Deputy Supreme Allied Commander for Europe until his retirement in 1958. During his returns to Britain from the continent, he routinely stopped by Chartwell, though not always invited! Nonetheless, he was always a welcome presence.
Beneath his toughened outer shell, Montgomery was a deeply affectionate and benevolent presence in the Churchill family. Outside of the military he had a “heart of true honesty and a yearning for sympathy that had been too long denied.”9 On his trips to Chartwell, Monty came suitably equipped with plum brandy brought from Marshal Tito. During the war he had sometimes watched films with Churchill, and it seems this tradition continued at Chartwell, with Monty occasionally operating the projector in the dining room when it was in use as a cinema! In addition to the brandy, Montgomery supposedly gave to Churchill the budgerigar named Toby.
The days spent at Chartwell appear to have been happy ones for the Churchills and Montgomery. In a letter to Clementine in 1955, Winston wrote of Monty’s good humour and ability to amuse those around him. In these letters, Montgomery inquires after Clementine, for whom he had a great deal of respect. Clementine, it appears, was the only individual who could subdue his sometimes brash and outspoken behaviour and remained very fond of him. They frequently played croquet together on the lawn at Chartwell. On one occasion, however, Montgomery expressed his view that all politicians were dishonest. Clementine did not take kindly to this and responded “with flashing eyes,” indicating that, if that was his view, he could leave at once. Clementine then offered to have his bags packed! Montgomery, realising he was beaten, profusely apologised and stayed.10
For both Churchill and Montgomery in retirement, the legacy of the war loomed large. At Chartwell they would reminisce, and Montgomery routinely invited Churchill to the Alamein dinner at the Royal Albert Hall. In his 25 October 1946 speech commemorating the event, Montgomery said that Churchill’s wartime speeches were “just what the nation wanted. They interpreted the ‘Spirit of Britain’ which was there all the time, though possibly dormant for a lack of comprehension of the situation.”11
Unsurprisingly, when the two men met at Chartwell, military matters frequently came up. Churchill’s granddaughter Edwina Sandys recalls one Christmas “where discussion with a grandchild about the nesting habits of the black swans was as important as an argument with Field Marshal Montgomery about the effect of weather on the battle of Waterloo.” Montgomery always found time for the children and treated them with kindness. Edwina said, “Monty was a frequent visitor and, although known for being a stern and formidable soldier, was very kind and even interested in talking to a young, shy, teenager like me.”12
At Chartwell, in addition to his numerous signatures in the visitor book, Montgomery still has a presence. In Lady Churchill’s Sitting Room is an image of the Field Marshal in the robes of a Knight of the Order of the Garter.
1. Colin F. Baxter, Field Marshal Bernard Law Montgomery: A Selected Bibliography (Westport, CT: Greenwood, 1999), p. 128.
2. Norman Rose, Churchill: The Unruly Giant (New York: Free Press, 1995), p. 343.
3. Mary Soames, ed., Winston and Clementine: The Personal Letters of the Churchills (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1999), p. 467.
4. John Colville, The Fringes of Power (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1986), p. 154.
5. Ibid., p. 155.
6. Georgi Zhukov, The Memoirs of Marshal Zhukov (London: Jonathan Cape, 1971).
7. Robert H. Ferrell, ed., The Eisenhower Diaries (New York: Norton, 1982), 11 June 1943.
8. Colville, p. 154.
9. Ibid., p. 158.
10. Baxter, p. 128.
11. CHUR 2/312/7, Churchill Archives Centre, Cambridge.
12. In conversation with the author, June 2022.
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