“Makes one wonder if we are not betteroff, Commander, having politicians running the country rather than a Kaiserlike they have.”
That was going rather far. The Commanderagreed that King George, God bless him, was not a ruler in the sense that theKaiser was; that was not the British way. Even so, some of the politicians wererather dubious sorts… There was Asquith, who was a gentleman, and Lloyd George,who was not. More than that need not be said! Add to that, there were theIrish, who were a damned nuisance in the House of Commons, and this new LabourParty, which was an embarrassment though unlikely ever to be significant.
“Damned fellow wore a flat cap into theHouse, Adams!”
Christopher agreed that was very bad. Ifthe man could not afford proper morning dress, then at least he could find afrockcoat and silk hat and pretend to be a gentleman. He understood thisMcDonald fellow had actually worn a lounge suit as well!
That was simply disgraceful – next thing, hewould be open-necked!
They considered that possibility, decidedit was too much – no respectable man could descend to that level of depravity.
“He has to win an election, after all, oldchap. Can you imagine conceivably voting for a man without a collar and tie?What would we do if we saw an officer in that state?”
Christopher had no doubt they would escorthim below, place him in the hands of the Doctor who would hold him safe untilthey could send the poor fellow ashore to a secure asylum.
It made them uncomfortable even toconsider such a descent from decency.
“Saw it on the merchant cruiser, FannyBrown, you know, Commander. The first lieutenant, reservist, of course, offduty and sunbathing, of all things! On the deck with his shirt wide open totake a tan!”
They were almost amused, it was so outlandish.
“He is a Canadian, mark you. Merchantservice this twenty years. Had some hopes to be given his own ship. Can you imaginewhat sort of captain that would be?”
They could not, sympathised with Christopherfor the hardships he had suffered.
Black Prince steamed into Queensferry, beneaththe great bridge and into the hands of the dockyard. Everything valuable waslocked away, the officers clearing their cabins and the stewards taking ashoreall alcohol from the wardroom. The yard hands were renowned for their lightfingers, would steal anything that was left unguarded.
Christopher took all of his navigatingequipment, down to the last pencil, and placed it in the safe in the Commander’soffices.
“Past experience, sir. I was on Iron Dukewhen she was fitting out, as a sub. I saw what happened there. Couldn’t stopthe thefts, no matter what we tried or how many we caught and placed underarrest. Gunmetal, bronze and brass fittings and valves disappeared damned nearas fast as they were put in place. At one stage we had pickets on the engine rooms,searching every dockyard matey as they left the ship. They seemed outraged thatwe stopped them – ‘perks’ they said it was. Tradition, they had always done it,believe it or not! Led to a strike once when we put six of them in front of themagistrates and saw them sent to gaol.”
The Commander shook his head whileagreeing that he had seen the same, more than once.
“Should have the yards under militarydiscipline, Adams. While we employ civilians, no telling what they will get upto.”
It was obviously so.
“Won’t be like this in Germany, I willwager!”
Christopher did not know. Considering thePrussian reputation for discipline, he had to admit it was unlikely.
Two days and he was off on leave, takingthe night sleeper south, enjoying peacetime standards of luxury – the LNER didnot believe in austerity for its passengers. There was much to be said for a leisurelydinner followed by a nightcap of best single malt Scotch before retiring to acomfortable bunk. Breakfast running through the Home Counties and then leavingthe train with a whole day ahead of one – ideal for a businessman and comfortablefor an officer with the money to afford it. Christopher took pains not to noticelesser mortals emerging from the carriages where they had dozed upright intheir seats.
There were still taxis available for therelatively few who emerged from the sleepers; the rest of the passengers used ‘busesor the Underground.
It was a delight to return to the world ofprivilege that he feared had been lost forever.
The butler welcomed him and nodded to alimping footman to collect his luggage – not much, a mere pair of suitcases ashe must visit his tailor as a matter of urgency.
“My father at home, Buckley?”
“In his study, sir. You are to go to him.”
Not so easy, readying himself for the firstmeeting. He squared his shoulders and glanced at his uniform to see all wasproper before pacing down the hallway and knocking before entering.
“Christopher! Good to see you home, boy!You are thinner than you were, I think.”
“The Red Sea, sir. It pares away every ounceof excess flesh.”
“Never been that way, myself. It has a badname. It saved yours, however – well done. You should have had more than a Mention,as you know. Not to worry! What’s past is past and your brother Jeremy is awareof his foolishness! Won’t see him while you’re here – he has been working inthe Party and has been sent off to America as a junior minister to discuss trade.After that, he’s bound for Canada with his delegation, talking about wheat, Igather. Good for him! I am still somewhat upset with him for destroying yournaval career! He should have known better, damned fool!”
“A mistake, sir, made with noill-intention.”
“Good of you to say so, Christopher. Ihave been thinking about your future, I would add. Can’t be in the services. Couldbe in motor vehicles. Cars. Going to be thousands of them on the roads afterthe war, bound to be. Not a deal of money in making them, I suspect, but afortune in looking after them. Seems to me that we will need a garage in everytown, more than one for some places, selling oil and petrol, and offeringrepair and maintenance. A countrywide network all selling our own fuel byarrangement with the big oil companies. I would
