Come Friday I met Vice Air Marshal Smyth and General Sullivan at Farmington Hall in the morning and gave them a quick tour. They both liked what they saw. I felt like I wasn’t in too much trouble when the General told me he now understood why I had grabbed the place.
“I knew you had money Rick, but not this much.”
Vice Air Smyth chuckled, “MI 5 checked him out for a security clearance when he became a Queen's Messenger. Her Majesty may decree but the wheels must turn. He is worth more than many small countries.”
“Maybe I should hit you up for a loan, Rick.”
“You could but the interest rates would be terrible, and I have a collection department.”
I meant it as a joke. The Vice Air didn’t take it that way.
“I heard your family was friends with Mr. Lucky, but I didn’t realize you are in business with him.”
Opens mouth. Insert foot, I was having some week.
“We aren’t; I was thinking of his Uncle Popeye.”
“Righto, he is much worse.”
The General was looking back and forth at us wondering what was really being said.
The Vice Air said, “Rick has an uncle by marriage that scares the Mafia.”
Not much the wiser, the General let it pass. We wound up our tour and agreed on the governing terms on the new trust being formed. I told them about using prominent military graduates of Oxford as names for the Hall and the Estates.
I suggested Rowden-Hasting Hall and Rogers Estates. I had to explain about the First Marquis of Hastings, which had a more historical flavor for the Hall and both agreed that Bernard Rogers was a good man to name the Estates after.
The General told me, “Rick, the other day I wondered if you were really the Cowboy I first heard of, but now I see you have not brought us problems, you have brought solutions that are worthy of those Group Captain boards on your shoulders.”
Vice Air Marshal Smyth agreed, “You need a lot of seasoning, son, but I think you are headed in the right direction.”
“Thank you, Sirs.”
Thank you, Mum, and Dad.
At one o’clock the dining hall had filled up. My superiors and I took the center stage which was equipped with a sound system. I introduced both of the General Officers and left it to them. They explained that it was realized that military students at Oxford and other major universities faced many difficulties and that I had been given the task of identifying them.
The major one was the expense and quality of housing. Once I had reported it back, action had quickly been taken to rectify the problem. They went on to tell that the now renamed Rowden-Hasting Hall would have rooms for single students at less than their housing allowance and the Rogers Estates would have the same deal for married students.
We had to allow fifteen minutes for the excited buzz to calm down. All were told to give thirty days' notice on current lodging. The first lot of trustees were named, selected by the Generals from my cadre pool. When the trust was made official there would be the drawings for a position.
In the meantime, the current officers were to see that all residences were furnished and ready for occupation at the end of thirty days.
After that, the students were allowed to walk through the facility to see what was available. Married students and their spouse’s headed to the door to go and check out the houses. The Generals and I sat having a cup of coffee.
General Sullivan brought up a new subject.
“Rick, would you object if we, the armed forces bought you out on this project? We would return all the money you have put into this and take over the guarantee of the loans. It would look better for us if we did this, and if there was a default on this building we would be stuck with it and not you.”
“I don’t see any problems with it, I wasn’t interested in buying these properties as such, and you are right, I would have no idea what to do with them if I got them back.”
“Fine, who should our people contact?”
I gave them Jim Williamson’s phone number. I took the opportunity right then to go to the porter's lodge that had the only working phone and called him. He wasn’t in, but the office took my message for him that told him he would be getting a call and why.
When I got back to the table the Air Vice Marshal had left. I didn’t give it a thought.
“Rick, there is another issue which I have to address and this one makes me feel lower than whale shit.”
“What is that, General?”
“I came here with a problem, that of military students discontent, but you identified the cause, and then solved it. In doing so you gained the rank of Group Captain. My superiors do not feel it is appropriate for us to deal with a seventeen-year-old as a full Colonel. We have informed the RAF that we no longer need you to be seconded to the USAF.”
Talk about a kick in the head. Thank you very much, and don’t let the door hit you on the way out.
“I see, I really do, but at the same time it is a real put down.”
“I understand, Rick, and wish it could have worked out differently.”
“Do you have any idea what the RAF is going to do?”
“Not officially.”
That told me all I needed to know. About that time the students came back from their tour of the facility. They were happy and upbeat.
