“It may be a blessing in disguise.” ­- Winston Churchill’s wife, Clementine, commenting on his election defeat in 1945, right after winning World War II.

“If so, it is well disguised.”  -Churchill’s response.

My candidate for “Man of the 20^th Century” died this week (Jan. 24) in 1965, having deservedly earned the thanks of a grateful nation and world, and having earned the first state funeral for a British politician since William Gladstone in 1898.

He died at age 90, and it may well be that he lived so long because of his election defeat in 1945, when he was replaced as prime minister by Labour Party leader Clement Attlee.  In other words, Clementine Churchill was probably right.  His defeat was a blessing in disguise.

For one thing, it spared Churchill the personal anguish of presiding over the end of the British Empire, which, being an imperialist to the core, Churchill would have hated.  Indeed, one of the reasons Churchill was defeated in 1945, despite having led his country to victory over Nazi Germany, was his reputation as an imperialist, an aristocrat, and a hopeless romantic who still envisioned a return to the Victorian age.  The only “return” the British people wanted was a return to normalcy, and Atlee and Labour seemed better suited to that goal.

Being out of power also gave him greater freedom to speak candidly about what he thought was the greatest future threat to the peace and freedom of the world, namely the Soviet Union’s increasingly ruthless grip on Eastern Europe.  Had he been prime minister, diplomatic and political considerations would have constrained him — the Soviets had been wartime allies, after all.  Instead, more than any other statesman, Churchill opened up the world’s eyes to the Soviet menace.

Being out of power also prevented Churchill, who turned 71 in 1945, from working himself to death.  The post-war problems Great Britain faced were enormous.  The country was literally bankrupt, while the general public, having sacrificed mightily during the war, expected the new government to initiate massive, and massively expensive, spending on social programs and services.

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This week (Jan. 9) in 1917, as World War I raged in Europe, one of the chief belligerents in that war, Germany, made a fateful miscalculation that would ensure it lost the war.  Germany decided to renew its U-boat (submarine) attacks against U.S. shipping.

This reversed a decision made at the start of the war by Germany and its main enemy, Great Britain.  At that time, both countries decided to refrain from attacking neutral shipping, even shipping intended for the enemy, because they feared such attacks would alienate the neutrals, especially the United States.

But things were different in 1917.  After three years of bloody stalemate in the trenches on the Western front, Germany and Britain were both looking for a new strategy to win the war.  The Germans re‑discovered the U‑boat, which they thought could destroy 600 thousand tons of neutral shipping a month and knock Great Britain — an island that depended on imports to survive — out of the war in six months.

The Germans also re-evaluated their fear of U.S. reprisals, wondering why they were denying themselves a war-winner — the U-boat — in deference to a country that was an ocean away and had no army, air force or navy to speak of.

It was a good question.  In 1917, the U.S. military was pathetic for the simple reason that it was unnecessary.  Protected by oceans to the east and west, one friendly nation to the north and a weak one to the south, America didn’t need a large armed force.  And given its pervasive isolationism — President Woodrow Wilson had specifically campaigned on the promise to keep America out of World War I — America didn’t want a large armed force.

But in deciding to renew their U-boat attacks, and almost certainly force the U.S. to enter the war, the Germans made two mistakes.  First, they were unaware of the extent of America’s industrial potential, and thus totally underestimated the country’s ability to gear up for war.

Second, the Germans hadn’t counted on the U.S. greenback dollar. This was significant because, unbeknownst to Germany, in 1917 Britain was near bankruptcy.  Indeed, it is arguable (although by no means certain) that the Germans would not have needed U-boats to stop neutral shipping from reaching Britain because Britain’s creditors, by refusing to lend any more money, would have done the job more effectively!

Instead, upon entering the war in retaliation for Germany’s resumed U-boat attacks, the U.S. lent Britain and its main ally France billions of dollars, allowing them to continue the war.  This, plus the combination of American soldiers and military equipment that began pouring into European ports in 1917, spelled the beginning of the end for the German Kaiser and his crew.

This week (Oct. 12) in 1945, Private First Class Desmond Doss received the Congressional Medal of Honor for bravery under fire during the invasion of the Japanese island of Okinawa.   That made Doss the first conscientious objector in American history to receive the nation’s highest military award.

A devout Seventh Day Adventist, Doss would not carry a weapon because his religion taught that killing was wrong, yet when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor in 1941, Doss attempted to enlist, finally being classified as a conscientious objector so he could serve in any capacity that did not involve firing a weapon.

He became a medic in the 77^th Infantry Division, where he was subjected to constant ridicule and taunting by his fellow soldiers.   At night when he read his ever-present Bible his bunkmates swore at him and threw objects at him.  An officer even tried to have him discharged as unfit for military service, but Doss resisted, insisting that he could serve his country; he just couldn’t kill for it.

His chance to serve came in 1944 in the Far East, first on Guam and the Philippines, where Doss repeatedly braved enemy gunfire to rescue and treat his fellow soldiers.   Then, on Okinawa in 1945, after Doss’s Company B had finally captured a 400-foot cliff called the Maeda escarpment, the Japanese launched a massive counterattack, wounding many G.I.s and sending all but one of the others scurrying back down the cliff.

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