On Monday, June 10, Churchill was shaken by two blows at once: Italy entered the war against Britain and France, and France’s military situation kept worsening. His anger spilled through Downing Street, where Jock Colville observed him snapping at staff and sending harsh messages, while Inspector Thompson again absorbed much of Churchill’s temper. Even so, those around Churchill recognized that these storms usually passed quickly, and Lord Beaverbrook saw in Churchill’s gestures afterward a sign that his underlying loyalty remained unchanged.

The day’s unnatural darkness deepened the sense of dread. Diarists such as Alexander Cadogan and Olivia Cockett recorded the black skies and tense public mood, while Churchill stayed fixed on France. Although Paris seemed likely to fall and French resistance looked close to collapse, Churchill still believed that his presence might stiffen French resolve.

On Tuesday, June 11, Churchill went to Briare at Prime Minister Reynaud’s request. The conference only confirmed how desperate France’s condition had become. Churchill promised that Britain would continue fighting no matter what, even alone, but the French were not revived by his appeal. The trip became memorable for another reason as well: Churchill, enraged that his bath had not been prepared, burst through doors in a red kimono demanding it. More importantly, the French collapse convinced Churchill not to send more RAF fighters to France, because he believed Britain had to preserve them for the coming attack on its own soil.

At the same time, Jock Colville faced more private worries. He hoped his brother Philip, still in France, would be evacuated safely through Cherbourg, and the arrival of some luggage in London gave him a little hope. With both brothers in uniform and so many contemporaries already serving, Colville decided he should join the war himself, preferably through the Royal Navy, but Eric Seal could not secure his release because the Foreign Office was holding on to its young men.

On Wednesday, June 12, anxiety widened beyond Britain’s internal circle. U.S. ambassador Joseph Kennedy sent Washington a bleak cable describing Britain as badly unprepared and surviving mainly on courage, while warning that desperation over American entry into the war could tempt reckless efforts to create an incident. That same morning, Churchill’s scientific adviser Frederick Lindemann met with Air Ministry intelligence scientist Reginald V. Jones to discuss German radar, but the conversation shifted to an alarming possibility: a new German technological development that, if real, could significantly strengthen Germany in the air war.