by Ian Lindsey
“I already, informally, work with some of the Baker Street contacts, though would gladly make it a more formal arrangement.” Timothy spoke up to avoid any confusion.
“He offered me yesterday as well, though I’m sure Maggie’s kind words will surely help.” Jack finished to round out the conversation.
“Excellent, and thank you, all. I think your assessment of the situation warrants action now, as you’ve persuaded Sir Dowding. We must destroy the rehearsal today, and then fight in the skies to the last pilot so Goring can’t claim that we are softened up. Of that, I put the utmost faith in the RAF. We shall persevere, as we always have.” The King said resolutely. “The Atlantic wall concerns me. Once we survive this, at some point we will have to get back to the continent. That may require America.”
“Yes, sir. We agree.” Payton said quickly, nearly not minding his manners.
“We’ll report back as such to our contacts at home.” Dylan added. “I’m sure Lt. Colonel Bradley’s interest will be piqued.”
“Excellent, that was the answer I had hoped to hear. My sincere thanks for that.” His Majesty responded before turning to the ladies. “Simone, Clara, Anne how are things at the hospital? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“That is very kind of you, your Majesty. As you can imagine we are dreadfully short of nurses, so anything you can do to lift morale and boost recruitment would be very kindly appreciated.” Simone answered.
“Yes, of course, morale for both the patients and staff would greatly lift if you are able to visit.” Clara said boldly, to which both Simone and Maggie looked somewhat horrified.
“Of course, that is a splendid idea. I’ll have my secretary arrange it.” His Majesty answered without ever batting an eye.
“Thank you, your Majesty, that will mean a lot to our patients and staff.” Anne said “And it will mean a lot to their families. Everyone has a piece in this, all over the empire.”
“Indeed, and well put Miss Fields. And now, I have a task that shall please me to no end.” The King continued “I have something in particular for the other three fine gentlemen on their return from galavanting around France.” The King continued, with a sly smile. “We usually do these at an official ceremony, but with the approval of Sir Dowding after his effusive praise, I have something for the three of you.”
King Edward VI walked back over to his desk and opened a small drawer. He returned to place three small black velvet boxes on the table between the seated audience.
“If you would please, gentlemen, stand.” The King ordered. Timothy, Payton, and Dylan all stood in unison. He reached for one of the boxes and opened it so only the standing could see inside. “Do you know what this is?” He asked them. Looking inside the box the three saw a crimson ribbon holding a burnished bronze cross with a lion and crown laid across the top. Beneath, an inscription read “For Valour.”
“Yes, your Majesty. It’s the Victoria cross.” Payton answered quietly.
The seated audience gasped slightly, it was the highest honor awarded by the British for valor in the face of the enemy.
“Sir Dowding agrees with me that your incredible intuition in gaining the aforementioned intelligence, your fight to get it home safely, and your urgency in bringing it to light so quickly has given us a chance to give Hitler a real bloody nose and regain our footing. Along you’re your work at Dunkirk, and your story of brushing aside the incredible odds to return home and rejoin the fight are the very definition of valor in my book, so it is with great honor that I invest the two of you with the order of Victoria’s Cross. Thank you, from everyone in the realm for what you have done and what you will do, and may God Bless you as you go forward.”
“But I'm Irish….” Was all Timothy could mumble “And not even in the military.” He finished.
“We did consider that, so your award is slightly different. I’ve created a new equivalent award that can go to any civilian, for valor, The George Cross. Without you putting yourself at great risk they would not have brought home what they did.” The King answered in an almost insisting way. He reached in to the third case and produced a silver cross hanging from a dark blue ribbon
“Thank you.” All three said after that sternly as King George placed the medals over their heads and shook the hand of each. There was not much else they could say.
When his Majesty finished, the three women nearly leapt from the couch and cradled their loves with pride, and joyfully kissed each according to their hearts.
“The medal is nice, but I’m just happy you are home.” Anne said tenderly to Payton low enough that no one else could hear.
“You know, this does not mean I have to call you sir.” Clara pointed out to Dylan.
“Timothy, you rogue.” Simone merely stammered out as she threw hundreds of years of etiquette aside and kissed the Irishman in front of the King, who nodded approvingly.
Payton held on to Anne at his side, and thumbed at the medal almost as if he didn’t believe it was real.
“I rather doubt they will trade that for one of you baseball rings. World Series, they call it correct?” The King asked. “I think you are stuck with the VC, no world championship ring.” His majesty teased the twins, clearly remembering his baseballs lessons with more than a little fondness.
“I don’t think the Dodgers will make the series this year anyway.” Payton grinned back at the monarch. “I think we’ll be okay settling for this.”
***
After returning to Simone’s house, Payton took his turn writing a dispatch to Lt. Colonel Bradley, knowing full well that they were remiss in writing over the last several weeks.
To: Lt. Colonel Bradley
From: former Lt. Payton Anders.
RE: Flight Commissions, Training, and Follow on Actions
The purpose of this note is to inform the General of relevant notes from our continuing mission in Europe. Upon last communication we made contact with an associate of Air Marshall Sir Hugh Dowding. He provided an introduction letter for us to take to the Air Marshall, who immediately commissioned us in to the RAF. We undertook several weeks of training before transferring to our assigned squadron group.
Luftwaffe tactics appear focused on RAF bases, attempting to limit the effectiveness of the air defenses before an invasion. After several missions, we made independent forced landings on the French coast at Normandy, from which we escaped several days later.
Relevant observations:
Pilot training is critical. Machines can be replaced, pilots cannot. We urge in the strongest terms possible to begin covert pilot training ASAP.
British Spitfires and German Messerschmitt are generally an even match. Lesser planes will not survive against these foes.
French resistance will be a powerful ally.
We have obtained maps/directives describing the “Atlantic Wall” as well as the German invasion plans for Great Britain during our time in France. English operatives will share with USA government/military officials ASAP.
When the US enters the war (we believe that is when, not if) invasion of the French coastline will be a daunting task. Recommend considering Normandy landing instead of Pas De Calais. Landing sites will have less open ground to cover, beaches are passable, though with high cliffs that will require neutralizing hardened emplacements, and Normandy will be less well defended than the more obvious Pas De Calais. Carentan and Cherbourg will make suitable harbors before pursuing a deep water harbor at Le Havre.
We will return shortly to our squadron. Continuing updates to follow.
***
“What happens now?” Anne asked quietly as the sun began to set quietly outside the windows of Simone’s drawing room. She sat nervously on Payton’s lap, while Clara and Dylan sat opposite them on a small sofa framing the large, marble encased fireplace. Jack and Maggie had gone out for dinner, while Simone and Timothy had gone out for a walk. The entirety of the ride back from Buckingham Palace had consisted of Jack and Timothy discussing their
future collaboration at Baker Street.
“I was thinking of asking Simone if we could stay here forever.” Payton responded flippantly.
“You know what I mean.” Anne responded with a hint of irritation.
“I do, I just don’t want to think about it.” Payton responded, apology in his tone.
“I believe we have until midnight until we have to return to Biggin Hill, and you report back to the hospital in the morning. From there, one foot in front of the other.” Dylan said blandly.
“Yes, we must continue fighting. England can’t fall, Hitler has take so much he must be stopped. Kristalnacht, Poland, the Sudetenland, Paris. Who know’s where he’ll go next.” Payton said, feeling the burning passion rise again in his chest. Dylan agreed, and didn’t have to say it.
“But what about us?” Clara said. “That evil man can’t be let to keep us apart.”
“He won’t.” Both boys promised both girls.
“We’ll win.” Payton said forcefully. “We’ll do our part, and we’ll win. The sooner we can get the US in to this war the sooner we can get back to you. And I promise you, Anne Fields, that I will come back to you. Every time.” Payton promised with equal passion.
“I know, when you can control it you will come back. But you don’t control it. Every time I think of you in France I start sobbing.” Anne answered. “And I don’t sob.”
“Neither do I.” Clara added.
“We control what we can, and we come back. Each day. I won’t live without you.” Dylan said, holding Clara’s hand tightly. “We will find a way.”
“Then we’ll keep the time we have. Come on Dylan, just you and me for a moment.” Clara answered while faking a smile. She stood and they left the drawing room, arm in arm, with no real plan.
Anne rested her head on Payton’s shoulder, curled herself up as closely as she could to him, and said “This is all I want, right now.”
And that was how they stayed, in to the night until each returned to their part in the fight.
About the Author
This is Ian Lindsey’s first novel. He lives and works outside of Portland, Oregon with his family. Ian’s fascination with WWII era aircraft started when he was in high school and blossomed as he studied aeronautical engineering at California Polytechnic State University, San Luis Obispo where he earned his BS in General Engineering. Given the chance, he recommends the Boeing Flight Museum outside of Seattle, WA and the Evergreen Aviation Museum outside of McMinnville, OR. Also, Ian does have a twin brother named Collin, and he does in fact root for the Dodgers.