It was late enough that I invited the General to dinner. That went very well. Grand Mum and the Queen Mum were in high spirits from their afternoon outing. I think a lot of spirits may have been involved.
When the Queen Mum asked General Sullivan why he was at Oxford he shared the whole scenario. He had an appointment tomorrow and hoped to place me as the liaison with armed forces students.
The British Crown has always been a staunch supporter of her armed forces. I found out how staunch when I heard old words used in new ways that were not polite. Once she wound down she told us she would be giving her daughter her marching orders in the morning.
Okay…Wing Commander Jackson, it is. This shouldn’t be that big of a deal, should it?
Chapter 18
I was surprised in the morning when I found the General not only up but ready to join me on my daily run. He kept pace with me the whole way. I hadn’t run with anyone else since Dick Wyman in Hollywood and it was nice.
We both had enough endurance that we could talk a little as we run. The General explained that what he had in mind was that I was to be a communication conduit. I was not expected to correct problems on my own. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t have the authority to do so.
The idea was that students with problems would come to me. From there I would be either the Chaplain, listening to their complaints then tell them to bear with it, or bring it to the attention of the proper authority. That being the Oxford Bursar’s office or the appropriate Military. The Military could be any branch of the British or American armed forces that had students there.
That seemed simple enough. Since there were thought to be only about twenty students from all sources it shouldn’t be a burden. I thought I heard this tune before.
After cleaning up and breakfast I flew us to London for a meeting at Whitehall. This was coming together very quickly. Apparently, someone at the Palace had sent a rocket up. From a conversation I partially overheard at breakfast I think the Queen Mum had wound up the Queen and things were going to happen. Whoever said that the Crown was only a figurehead had never seen it in action.
The armed forces had the word Royal in their title for a reason. So instead of meeting with the Oxford Bursar this morning, we were headed to London to meet with the Mandarins of Whitehall.
The General was very enthused about the project. I think he had dreams of glory. This project could be the beginning of something big for him. He talked about how they should have a program like this at every major university in the world. Naturally, he would be the one in charge. I suspect visions of another star were in his dreams like sugar plums.
That thought was mean of me, the General saw a real problem and was trying to solve it.
We were both in our dress uniforms when we were escorted into the meeting room at Whitehall. I thought I had seen gold braid before. Never anything like this. From the wariness of the introductions, one could tell the Brass felt like they had been blindsided.
Mr. Norman had joined us and introduced me as Senior Queen’s Messenger Sir Richard Jackson, KG, OBE, LOH. I thought that was laying it on thick but it certainly got their attention.
The Air Vice-Marshal Lord So and so, not his real name but I forgot it as soon as I heard it, which could prove to be a problem later, asked me to describe the program that I wanted.
Did I want this? I had been roped into this by the Air Force General, Sir Norman, and a slightly tipsy Queen Mum.
In for a penny in for a pound. I did the manly thing and dumped it all into General Sullivan’s lap. He gave a very clear concise overview of the proposed program. When he stated that he thought there might be as many as twenty students involved you could see the looks around the room.
“General Sullivan you don’t appear to understand all the ramifications of this. There are Commonwealth Armed Forces students attending. The closest estimate we have today is a little over one hundred with some of them having dependents along.”
“That is many more than I thought. When this started we were only looking at American officers.”
“Understood, this is getting away from all of us. Sir Richard, what are your plans?”
What! When had this become my problem? I thought hard for a second, I could either whine or step up.
“I need to find out exactly how many people will be involved, survey the most urgent problems then make recommendations to my British and American contacts when they are appointed.”
Find out what you are facing first, any Boy Scout Senior Patrol Leader knows to do that.
“My question is, Sir, what resources will I be provided with?”
“Budgeted money, on and off-site cadre, infrastructure at Oxford.”
This started some hemming and hawing.
The Vice Air Marshal told me that the British would provide initial funding of ten thousand pounds, the General not to be outdone volunteered fifteen thousand from his budget.
Sir Norman spoke up, “One last point, Sir Richard will need a rank which will give him the necessary seniority to command respect and obedience in his position.”
“I thought a Senior Queens Messenger is brevetted to an RAF Wing Commander.”
“Normally that would be so, but there are two Lieutenant Colonels attending, one from Hong Kong and a
