The Airshipmen: A Novel Based on a True Story. A Tale of Love, Betrayal & Political Intrigue.

by David Dennington

Lou saw the look of thankfulness on John’s face. “But you were alive!”

  Lou nodded, ashamed.

  “Then I heard bugles sounding, claxtons going off and cheering.”

  “What was the commotion?”

  “It was the cease fire signal. The war was over. I walked back to camp.

  “You must’ve been happy.”

  “It was the saddest day of my life,” Lou said.

  Lou noticed a slight change in John over the coming weeks. He was a little brighter and his hands shook less. John had taken to Lou. He could never take the place of his son, but having Lou around seemed to help ease the pain. For Lou, he had someone to talk to. He confided in John about his own demons from the war and the R38 debacle.

  A couple of weeks later, John asked Lou to take a ride with him in his car.

  “I’ve got something to show you,” he said.

  They drove in silence to the village of Peacehaven, about seven miles away. Stopping outside an old but very beautiful stone cottage, they climbed out and John opened the squeaky wooden gate. The sign beside the front door, its paint peeling, read: Candlestick Cottage.

  “I wanted you to see the cottage we bought for our son before he went off to war.” John reverently opened the front door and they entered the musty-smelling living room. Lou glanced around. The room was cosy with black beamed ceilings and a quaint, stone fireplace. “He loved this place. He only came here once. In his letters he promised he’d come back and live here,” John said bitterly. “I thought if we bought it, somehow he’d return. He would survive—he’d have to survive! …All I did was put a jinx on him.”

  “Your son would’ve been happy here,” Lou said.

  “We want you and Charlotte to live here. You can have it for

  whatever rent you are paying now.”

  Lou hesitated, not sure what to say.

  “Hell, you can live here for nothing,” John said, his voice faltering, his eyes filling with tears.

  Lou put his hand on John’s shoulder. “John, we couldn’t possibly. This place is too important to you and Mary.”

  “Yes, that’s the point. Lou, I want you to talk to your wife. In fact, I’d like to speak to her myself. We’ll bring Charlotte over here tomorrow and see what she thinks.”

  Charlotte fell in love with the cottage immediately. She particularly liked the box room next to the bedroom—perfect for a baby’s crib. Perhaps it was a sign! But she had reservations.

  “We’d be taking advantage of these lovely people,” she whispered.

  John would have none of it.

  “I have to tell you honestly. Mary and I’d be thrilled if you lived here—it’d give us peace of mind,” he said. “And it needs to be lived in … it needs life!”

  Charlotte relented on the understanding they’d pay a fair rent. Lou and Charlotte moved into Candlestick Cottage a week later, where they settled into a dreamy contentment and as newlyweds, they were blissfully happy. It was a dream come true. John and Lou got to work repainting the place and fixing things. They sanded and refinished the wood floors. Lou touched up the peeling sign at the door. Charlotte worked hard with Mary to make it comfortable with colorful curtains and soft chairs bought from Friedman’s Second Hand Furniture & Removals in Hull.

  Charlotte’s parents had their piano delivered (‘on loan’) to the cottage by the same company for Charlotte. Delighted, she rushed out and picked up the sheet music for Irving Berlin’s “What’ll I Do?” It was all the rage. She practiced playing and singing the mournful song every day until she was perfect. Money was short, but that didn’t spoil their happiness. Charlotte made the twenty-minute ride to the hospital in Hull each morning on a little green bus and Lou continued at the garage.

  A few weeks later, Charlotte took Lou with her to the music shop in Hull to buy a couple more songs. Lou noticed a second-hand guitar in the window and asked to see it. It was a Martin guitar, more than twenty years old, made in Nazareth, Pennsylvania. The back and sides were of Brazilian rosewood, the front, white spruce. Lou really knew a thing or two about guitars and was taken with the inlaid ivory rosette, bridge pins and knobs. He adjusted the gut strings and tuned it. Suddenly, the shop was filled with beautiful, melodious sound. Charlotte was amazed.

  This was a talent she never realized he possessed—he’d never mentioned it. Lou asked the shopkeeper the price. It was five pounds. Lou knew it was well worth it, but reluctantly handed it back. Charlotte resolved that somehow that guitar would be his. The next day, she put down half-a-crown to hold it. Over the next two months she worked extra shifts and paid down more. In the end, the shopkeeper told her to take it home and continue making weekly payments. Charlotte gleefully hid it under the bed in its black, coffin-like case until Lou’s birthday that June, when she presented it to him wrapped in brown paper. He was thrilled. Charlotte was delighted when he sung country songs—cowboy music! Sometimes, he accompanied her when she played the piano, and he began writing his own songs.

  That spring, Charlotte started a vegetable garden, which she tended at weekends. She proved to have a green thumb. Soon, colorful flowers and vines were blooming around the cottage in beds, rockeries, trellises, and hanging baskets. John often came by, cheered by the new life in this little home. His demeanor improved and he and his wife began to think of them as more than friends. Lou was content, especially now the court of inquiry was behind him. He missed his family in Virginia, but at least they exchanged letters every week.

  Life moved along pleasantly until April of 1924. One bright Saturday morning, Charlotte, in headscarf, long apron and rubber boots was preparing a patch in the garden to plant carrots and potatoes, while Fluffy sat on the stone wall, watching.

  “Mrs. Remington?” a man’s voice called over the front gate.

  Charlotte stood up, shielding her eyes from the sun. He wore British Airshipmen’s blues, resembling a naval uniform.

  “Oh hello, Major …er,” Charlotte said.

  “Scott,” he said. “I wasn’t sure if that was you in the wellies.”

  “Ah, yes, Major Scott. How are you?” she asked, puzzled.

  “I was in Hull on official business and thought I’d drop by. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “No, but how did you find us?”

  “You stop the first person you meet and ask for ‘the American.’”

  Charlotte laughed. “I suppose that’s true.”

  Scott peered over her shoulder. “Is he about?”

  “He’s at work—should be home in half an hour.”

  “All right, I can come back, if that’s all right?”

  “Why don’t you come in and wait. I’ll make you a cup of tea, if you like.”

  “Wonderful! I could murder a nice cuppa.”

  Charlotte led Scott through the planked front door into the living room with Fluffy following. A coal fire glowed in the fireplace. She was pleased when Scott glanced around appreciating their work: painted black beams, a colorful rug over highly polished wood flooring, throw-covers and the dozens of cushions of all colors and sizes strewn haphazardly about.

  “My, what a lovely room,” Scott exclaimed. “Hey, I recognize that cat!”

  “That’s Fluffy. I had a fight with the boat captain. He wanted to keep her.”

  “Ah yes, the famous Fluffy!”

  Scott’s eyes fell on the bottle of sherry on the sideboard and then on Charlotte—perhaps lingering a little too long. She could overlook that. He’d done a lot for all of them that day—she’d never forget that. His face was red and she caught a whiff of alcohol. She remembered him taking a swig from his flask before rushing off to the boat.

  Must’ve had a heavy session in Hull last night!

  Charlotte gestured toward one of the soft armchairs.

  “Make yourself comfortable, Major.”

  Before disappearing into the kitchen, Charlotte picked up her knitting and bent over the couch and put it in a basket out of sight. She sensed him watching her.

&
nbsp; She soon reappeared with a tea tray, which she placed on the low table in front of the couch. Scott looked up pleased. “Good. We can chat before Lou comes in. How is he—in himself, I mean?”

  “He’s much better,” Charlotte said as she poured the tea. “He’s getting over the accident pretty well.”

  “Is he happy?”

  “Yes, very happy.”

  “Working?”

  “He works in a garage.”

  “Oh, yes I remember. He told me at the inquiry.”

  Charlotte got up to poke the fire and add a few shovels of coal from a brass scuttle. They sat and chatted for half an hour. Scott was interested to know about all aspects of their lives, including Charlotte’s folks in Ackworth and their own plans to start a family. In the end, he came to the point.

  “I have a proposal for Lou and in some ways it’s good I talk to you first, because if you’re not in favor, it wouldn’t work. ‘Behind every good man …’—you know the old saying. He’d be able to put his valuable knowledge and experience to good use,” Scott said.

  Suspicion showed in Charlotte’s face. “What sort of proposal?”

  “I expect you’ve heard. The British Airship Industry is about to be revitalized and Lou could play an important role.”

  Charlotte and Lou had, in fact, heard things on their new wireless and read glowing reports in the Daily Mirror. They’d listened to a speech given by the new Minister of State for Air, a rather pompous-sounding Lord something-or-other with a voice like a gravel pit.

  Charlotte screwed up her face and shook her head. “Oh, I don’t know.”

  “You want him to be happy, don’t you?”

  Charlotte sipped her tea and thought for a moment, staring out the window into the garden.

  Damn! Why did he have to show up here?

  “Yes, of course I do—but those contraptions are too dangerous.”

  “They won’t be,” Scott said.

  “Another one went down in America. Killed 34 men. All of them burned to death. That was in Virginia—Lou’s home state.”

  “You’re talking about the Roma. That thing was just an Italian sausage balloon—stone-age technology. That can’t happen again.”

  “I’d be too worried.”

  “No need to worry. Government is drawing up massive new safety regulations.”

  “I don’t like them.”

  “Airships will be as safe as houses. Huge new industry—thing of the future.”

  Charlotte shook her head, unconvinced.

  “The pay will be substantial for officers in the fleet—a good living indeed!”

  “I’ll talk to my husband,” Charlotte said.

  “Yes, yes, of course. He’d be working only down the road from here at Howden. You wouldn’t need to move—not for three or four years anyway. I think you’d both be very happy.”

  They heard the front door opening and Lou walked in, looking surprised. “Major Scott! What brings you here, sir? I wondered whose car it was outside.”

  Lou kissed Charlotte and Scott jumped up to shake hands.

  “I had business in Hull, Lieutenant. Just thought I’d drop by.”

  They sat down around the low table. Charlotte poured tea for Lou.

  “More tea, Major?”

  Scott hesitated and glanced at the sherry bottle. “I tell you what. A glass of your sherry would be nice.”

  “Of course.” Lou went to the sideboard, poured out a glass and handed it to Scott.

  Scott raised the glass. “Here’s to both of you.” He took a polite sip and leaned forward in his chair, stroking Fluffy purring at his feet.

  “Were you happy in the Navy, Lou?”

  “I loved the Navy, sir.”

  “How would you like to be back in?”

  Lou glanced at Charlotte. “I don’t understand how that could be possible, sir.”

  “I was telling your wife, things are opening back up at Howden. I don’t suppose you want to work in a country garage for the rest of your life?”

  Lou hesitated. “Er, well I suppose not.”

  “If you want back in, it can be arranged. In fact, it’s already arranged. If you’re both interested—just say the word,” Scott said, swallowing the rest of his sherry.

  Charlotte shot Scott a look of surprise. He hadn’t told her that earlier.

  “I can’t believe this,” Lou said.

  “The Minister has spoken with the Secretary of the Navy in Washington. You’d be seconded by the Air Ministry to work on the New British Airship Program.”

  “Where?”

  “You’d be based here in Howden as part of the Royal Airship Works team, which is totally responsible for the ship Vickers Aircraft Company will construct. You’d monitor the construction and report to us at the R.A.W. I know you did the same job when you were based in Cardington—I remember you very well.

  “Sounds interesting,” Lou said, refilling Scott’s glass.

  “You’d be here full time until this ship is completed. Then you’d move to Cardington—a beautiful little village, by the way,” Scott added, giving Charlotte a reassuring glance.

  “Wouldn’t all this be unusual, me being in the U.S. Navy and …”

  “Not as unusual as you might think. Allies often second members of the each other’s military for training and assistance. Commander Zachary Lansdowne was trained here and worked with us. He flew with me as American observer when I made the first return flight to the United States. He was awarded the Navy Cross and I received the Royal Air Force Cross. …” Then he added wryly, “Others got knighted for less.”

  “I served under Commander Landsdowne for a short time,” Lou said.

  “Yes, so I understand. He’s just taken over command of the Shenandoah,” Scott said.

  “We know someone else on that ship—one of Lou’s crewmen,” Charlotte said, without enthusiasm.

  “These are exciting times. It’s up to you,” Scott said.

  Lou sat stunned at this opportunity out of the blue. “I don’t know

  what to say, sir.”

  “Don’t say anything yet. You and Charlotte need to talk things over and think about your future and your new family.” Charlotte saw Scott’s eyes go in the direction of her knitting basket behind the couch and he nodded. She dropped her eyes—he’d noticed her hide her knitting. “Bedford will become one of the biggest travel centers in Britain, with regularly scheduled flights to the United States, Canada, India, Australia and New Zealand—it’ll be known as ‘Airship City.’”

  “Sounds like they’ve got big plans,” Lou said.

  “Your first job would be to manage the re-commissioning of Howden Air Station, including repairs to the shed. That’ll take a couple of years and should be interesting,” Scott said.

  Lou pondered that. He’d been sorry to see that place fall into ruin.

  “Sounds great, sir.”

  “Howden used to be the biggest airship base in the country. Oh, and another thing. You’d be working with one of the finest airship engineers in the country—fella by the name of Wallis, Barnes Wallis.”

  While he stroked Fluffy, Scott talked generally about the airship industry and Lou’s future prospects. Finally, he stood up and took out his wallet.

  “Here’s my card. Give me a call next week. If you decide against it, that’s fine. I’ll totally understand. You’re under no obligation. I must be going—and thanks for the sherry—and the tea.”

  Scott shook hands with them and they watched him drive off in his little, black Ford. They closed the door after he’d gone and Charlotte cleared away the tea things in silence. The prospects were exciting—though much less for her.

  “I guess there’s not much to think about, is there?” Lou said.

  Charlotte couldn’t stop him. It’d make him happy and might be therapeutic. There’d be benefits, too: a better standard of living, a house of their own, they could seriously think of starting a family—maybe even get a little dog named Snowy!

/>   “It’s too good to turn down,” Lou said

  Charlotte reluctantly agreed, forcing herself to put negative emotions aside. It’d be years before any of these airships would be ready to fly. She could always talk him out of it later.

  On Monday morning Lou had the unpleasant task of breaking the news to John Bull.

  “John, something has come up, completely out of the blue,” Lou told him. There was disappointment in John’s eyes.

  “What is it, Lou?”

  One of the Air Ministry guys came by the cottage Saturday …”

  “And offered you a job?”

  “Yes.”

  “Airships?” John tried to hide his dread.

  “Yeah. They’re gonna be building one at the Howden shed.”

  “That would be so handy for you, son.”

  “Long term it looks good and they’ve already squared things with the U.S. Navy. They’re talking about me becoming a ship’s officer—maybe even a captain, one day.”

  “My goodness! They must really want you.”

  “They asked me to manage fixing up the air station—that’ll take a couple of years.”

  “I’m really excited for you, Lou. Sounds like a wonderful opportunity.”

  “Yes, but I’d hate to leave. I love working here with you, John.”

  “Lou, you must do what you must. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Mary and I want the best for you. You can’t stay here all your life, can you?”

  “I don’t know, John … Charlotte and I have been very happy.”

  “No harm in trying things out. We’ll still be close by. You’re like a son to us.”

  Tears formed in John’s eyes, making Lou feel wretched.

  “And if things don’t work out there’ll always be a job here if you need one—and perhaps a lot more …” John said, taking Lou’s hand between his own.

  “The cottage …” Lou began.

  “The cottage is yours as long as you want, my son, you know that.”

  Lou went home to Charlotte, his mind in turmoil.

  The following week, Lou called Scott with their decision. He’d take the job. Scott told him to ‘sit tight.’ Two weeks later, Lou received a letter from Scott saying the offer had been approved; Lou would be hearing from the U.S. Navy and he’d be seconded by the Air Ministry, as discussed. A week later, Lou received a wire from the Navy confirming he’d been reinstated and would receive the rate of pay for a U.S. lieutenant based overseas, with travel and housing allowances. He was to take orders from Maj. Scott and Wing Cmdr. Colmore at the Royal Airship Works at Cardington under the control of the Air Ministry. He would observe British military ranks.