Our meeting turned out much longer than I thought. The Messenger Service had come up with new documentation and new uniforms. Previously the only uniform was the tie with Greyhounds. Now they went all out with shirts, sweaters, blazers, with grey slacks. The whole ensemble looked pretty good.
Since my tailor had my sizes they had ordered several complete sets for me. They were at the Palace and I had to try everything on. They had done a bang-up job and there were no problems. Even the collars on the blazers set well. I hated it when they bunched up in the back.
We were given new identification cards and our Diplomatic Passports were updated with additional pages bound into the spine.
Mr. Norman and I had lunch in one of the many dining rooms in the Palace. It was a private room set off the main dining room. Well, the main dining room for those that had daily business at the Palace.
As we entered the US Air Force group was just being seated. Eyes were on us as we went to the private room.
After a long and leisurely lunch, we returned to Mr. Norman’s office. He had a note on his desk. After he read it he asked me where I was going next. When I told him I was flying back to Oxford to stay at The Meadows he asked a question.
“We have a liaison general from the US Air Force that needs to go that way today. Could you take him and an aide with you?”
I was gobsmacked, talk about fate, or whatever.
“Certainly.”
What was I going to do, say, “No?”
“If you want to head out to Heathrow and get the Messenger Service aircraft ready I will have him delivered to the private terminal.”
“Do I have time for a quick stop at my hotel?”
“I would think so.”
After that, I headed back to the Palace exit. To continue the wild set of coincidences I came across Queen Elizabeth at an intersection in one of the main halls. She and several of her Ladies in Waiting arrived at the intersection at the same time I did.
“Sir Richard, I didn’t know you were back in England. Did you run away from your circus?”
“Actually that is exactly what I did, it turned out to be more than I bargained for, so I came back to hide here until school starts.”
“Did your Mum come with you?”
“No, but she told me to give you her regards if I saw you. Oh, and Dad wanted me to remind Prince Philip that Philip owes him ten quid from the Kentucky Derby.”
“I will speak to the Chancellor of Exchequer to see if England has the funds.”
“Yes, I know Ike is worried about the balance of payments. He made the same bet with Dad.”
“Where are you going from here?”
“To the Meadows.”
“My Mum is there with your Grand Mum, tell her she has to return to London someday. She can’t keep avoiding her duties forever.”
“Will your Majesty give me that in writing? Otherwise, she might have me beheaded.”
“Write something like that to my Mum? I don’t think so!”
We both had a good laugh and she asked me for a longer visit the next time. I held my position in a half bow as she and her group turned and left. I was not about to turn my back on her.
When the Queen had moved on I turned to continue on. There stood the General and his group of Officers. I nodded my head and passed by them. A Palace driver took me back to my hotel where I changed clothes. The devil was making me do it as I donned my RAF reserve uniform with its various bits and bobs.
From there the driver, who had kindly waited drove me to the airport where I got the Greyhound aircraft pre-flighted and taxied over to the private terminal to await the General.
This was going to be very interesting.
Chapter 17
After checking the fuel and doing the rest of the preflight I taxied over to the private terminal. I don’t know why it was called the private terminal, it was open to everyone and used by the general aviation crowd. When there is a true private terminal with extremely limited use what do they call that?
At Heathrow, there is even a military terminal run by the RAF, but I had been instructed to meet the General here. Probably because it was easier to drop him off here without going through any security.
Going inside I spotted the General waiting with one aide, a captain. I approached them in a military-style, stopped at attention, and saluted.
“Flight Officer Jackson reporting.”
I kept my eyes straight but was aware of the General’s look of surprise. To give him due credit he recovered quickly. Upon standing he eyed my insignia closely.
“I recognize the Legion of Honor and the CBE, but what is the first one?”
“Order of the Garter, Sir!”
“And the greyhound above your flight wings.”
“I am a Queen’s Messenger, seconded to the RAF, Sir!”
I was proud of those crisp Sirs.
“You seem to be on intimate terms with Her Majesty.”
“She is my godmother. Our families are quite close.”
“I gathered that the Queen Mum is staying with your Grand Mum.”
“Yes Sir! Part of my mission is to get the Queen Mum home before she and Grand Mum drink all the Sherry and decide to go pubbing.”
Now, why did I just make that all up, it sounded good anyway?
“And the Ike I heard referred to?”
“My Godfather, President Eisenhower.”
“I gather your family is also on intimate terms with him.”
“Yes, Sir, well it is dicey about him and Dad. They had a disagreement over a girl
